She has a strong impulse to tiptoe over and knock on his window. Maybe even encourage him to come over. Maybe even…
She climbs back into bed. Space, she thinks.
Two nights later, Ayers is working at La Tapa. Her parents left that morning on the ten o’clock ferry; they’ll be gone for six to eight weeks. Ayers is relieved; happy, even. They’ll be back, but she doesn’t have to deal with them right now.
Tilda approaches Ayers at the back service station. “I assume you’ve heard?”
God alone knows what Tilda is going to drop on her. Heard you left Cash for some wealthy guy who doesn’t eat? Yes, Ayers has heard about that, in gory detail, from Cash. Ayers won’t lie—it has colored her opinion of Tilda. Tilda is entitled to see whomever she pleases but going away with a rich boy and leaving Cash in the dust seems crueler than your average breakup.
“Heard what?” Ayers asks.
“Mick quit the Beach Bar,” Tilda says. “He’s leaving island.”
“That must be a mistake,” Ayers says. “He told me at dinner last week that he signed a one-year lease at his new place, Pure Joy.”
“He’s trying to find someone to take over his lease.”
“Really,” Ayers says. “Where’s he going?”
“You should probably ask him that,” Tilda says.
Tilda is back to being very annoying, even more annoying than when she had a crush on Skip.
On her way home, Ayers calls Mick. “Word on the street is that you quit the Beach Bar? You’re leaving island?”
“Yes,” Mick says. “And yes.”
“Wow,” Ayers says, though she still doesn’t believe him. He’s been at the Beach Bar a Caribbean eternity—eleven years.
“I can’t live on this island and not be with you,” he says.
Ayers knew it. This is all a ploy to get her back. He planned this with Tilda; they’re in cahoots! “Well, I’m never coming back to you. I’m not in love with you anymore. So I guess you’d better go.”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Any chance you want to take over the lease on Pure Joy?”
“Damn straight I do,” she says. He may be bluffing but she’s dead serious. Pure Joy is a one-bedroom with incredible views across Great Cruz Bay over to St. Thomas, views that are best enjoyed sitting at the cute bar counter on the front porch. Ayers is sure her parents will help her with the rent.
“I thought you might move in with Banker and his kid. Play house, happy family, and all that.”
“No plans to,” Ayers says. “I definitely want your place.”
“Cool,” Mick says. “I want to leave as soon as I can. I’ve been offered a position as food and beverage director at Tucker’s Point in Bermuda.”
Ayers hoots. “Will you wear knee socks?”
“I think I might have to,” Mick says. “The resort is five-star, so the job has more responsibility. The only downside is the shorts-and-knee-socks look. My legs are so stubby.”
“So you’re doing this?”
“Yes,” he says.
Things move fast, so fast! The next day, Ayers meets Mick at the real estate office to sign paperwork for the lease. Mick is leaving this weekend; Ayers can move in as soon as he’s out.
“What are you doing with your place?” Mick asks.
“Cash is taking it,” Ayers says. This whole thing is almost too easy; Cash can move off his brother’s couch right into Ayers’s studio apartment across the street. He and Winnie will be reunited. Ayers isn’t sure how Baker feels about her leaving Fish Bay, but it’s not like she’s leaving for St. Thomas or even Coral Bay. She’ll be on Great Cruz Bay Road, halfway between the Happy Hibiscus and the Westin time-share office. And it’s only for a year.
It will be a big, scary year, but Ayers isn’t going to let that stop her. She loved the cottage when Mick showed it to her. Now it’s hers!
On Saturday when Mick is scheduled to leave, Ayers drives down to the car barge to say goodbye. She can’t quite figure out why she wants to do this. She supposes that part of it is to witness the milestone—the moment her boyfriend of nine years moves on. Part of it is to make sure he actually goes. And part of it is to kiss Gordon one last time.
The car barge is, as always, a whirl of activity with a snaking line of cars and Jeeps and pickups and huge Mack trucks waiting to board and a notoriously unflappable West Indian woman named Sheila overseeing who goes where. More than once, Ayers has witnessed Sheila letting her friends and sweethearts jump the line, which isn’t fair—but nobody ever questions Sheila.
Sheila is a cousin of Rosie’s on her father’s side and because of this, Sheila likes Ayers. “You getting on, doll?” she asks.
“Saying goodbye to someone,” Ayers says.
“And good riddance?” Sheila asks.
“Kind of, yeah,” Ayers says and Sheila chuckles.
Ayers almost doesn’t recognize Mick’s blue Jeep because it has the top on. Has she ever seen his Jeep with the top on? She doesn’t think so. She and Mick got caught in rain showers in that thing probably a hundred times. The seats held a damp smell and Mick eventually pulled up the rugs so that water emptied through the holes in the floorboards. Ayers parks her truck over by Sheila’s guardhouse. As she strides toward Mick’s Jeep, she hears Gordon barking. Automatically, she tears up. She promised herself she wouldn’t become emotional, but that dog was like her first child and she’s going to miss him.
They’re loading the boat; she has to hurry. She runs up behind the Jeep and goes to the driver’s side, where Gordon is hanging his head out the window.
“Who’s a good
