TWENTY-SIX

 

Chasing Down the Love of Your Life, Booze Cruise Style

 

Libby

 

As soon as the word ‘off’ leaves my mouth, Rosy locks me in a big bosomy hug while the shuttle pulls away, leaving me in a cloud of diesel and Shalimar. She releases me, then looks at Emma and nods. “She’s the one.”

Emma gives me a slightly skeptical look.

Rosy puts a hand on her hip. “Have you seen your brother with her? He’s like that cute dog who can’t keep his tongue in his mouth?”

“What dog?” Emma asks.

“You know the one. Will showed us on his phone.” Rosy tilts her head to the side and sticks her tongue out, then walks around wagging her bum. When she stops, she looks back and forth from Emma to me. “No? Neither of you knows that one?”

“Afraid not,” I say at the same time Emma says, “No clue.”

Emma then turns to me and narrows her eyes. “Say the first word that comes to mind, no hesitating. How do you feel about Harrison?”

“Completely terrified.”

“That was not the answer I was looking for,” Emma says, giving me a ‘you blew it’ look.

Rosy swats Emma on the arm. “It was a fine answer.”

Emma turns to Rosy. “First of all, it was two words. I asked for the first word—”

“But the first word was ‘completely.’ Not ‘a little’ or ‘kinda,’” Rosy says.

“Yes, but the second was ‘terrified.’ That hardly means she’s in love with him.”

“You only think that because you’ve never been in love before,” Rosy counters. She waves Fidel over. “Fidel, when you first fell for Winnie, was it terrifying?”

“Completely,” he says with a firm nod.

All three of them turn and stare at me while I shift uncomfortably in my flip-flops, not having the first clue what to say.

Rosy nods, then says, “She loves him.”

Turning to Rosy with one hand on her hip, Emma says, “How can you say that? She hasn’t even given one tiny hint that she loves him.”

“Because she didn’t get on the damn shuttle. If she didn’t love him, she’d be halfway to the airport by now,” Rosy retorts.

“How do you know? Maybe she just needs to get that awful report back. Maybe she wants a few more days to work on her tan. Maybe she…has a fear of buses,” Emma says, throwing her arms in the air.

“Or maybe she’s in love with your brother!” Rosy yells, attracting the attention of pretty much anyone wearing a Paradise Bay uniform.

My entire body heats up with embarrassment as I glance around the area and see all the curious onlookers. “Could I just say—” I start, but apparently I’m no longer part of the conversation.

“Why are you pushing this so hard?” Emma asks Rosy.

The crowd closes in, and now I’m basically surrounded by about twenty people who absolutely must know about my intimate feelings for their boss.

“Could we just maybe go back into your office?” I say out of the side of my mouth, but both women ignore me.

“Why are you trying to get in the way of love?” Rosy answers.

“Because I’d like to be sure she’s good enough for my brother before I help her find him, thank you very—”

“Oh, screw it,” I snap, cutting Emma off. “I’m just going to lay it all out on the line. What you need to know about me is that I’m probably the most responsible, predictable woman on the planet. I was voted ‘least likely to do anything risky’ in my graduating class, which was really quite mean but also very accurate.

“Up until three weeks ago, I had my entire life — like, literally every single day of my future — planned down to the hour, and I was actually really happy knowing where it was all heading because it seemed so safe and perfect, you know?”

Looking at their confused expressions, I can see these people are not fellow planners.

“Okay, maybe not. But the point is, now I feel like some totally insane person who just quit my job and sent my fiancé packing for a guy I just met, which will either be the single greatest thing I’ve ever done or the hallmark of when I ruined my entire life for what could very well be a rebound but most definitely doesn’t feel like one because I’ve never felt as beautiful or alive or bursting with excitement and joy as I do when I’m with him.” I pause and take a deep breath. “And it’s not just that. It’s that I’d do anything for him. You know? Like, anything,” I say, giving Fidel a knowing look.

Understanding crosses his face, and apparently I’m not as subtle as I hoped because Emma says, “Eww! T.M.I.”

“Sorry about that. I’ve had ZERO sleep. I just don’t know how this could be a rebound, because I took three Cosmo online quizzes asking ‘Is he the one?’, and they all came back in the affirmative. Well, one of them was about whether he was worth it, not if we were meant to be, but that one came back with a yes, too.”

Emma looks at me. “So…you’re a little crazy, then, yes? I did not pick that up when I met you a couple of days ago.”

“Only since I met your brother. Prior to that, I was ridiculously sane.”

“He’ll do that to you,” Emma says, nodding her head. “You poor, poor girl. You sure you want a life of this?”

“I think so,” I say.

“Yes! There are going to be some adorable little ginger babies in my future!” Rosy exclaims. “Now, Emma, where is he?”

“No idea.”

“Okay, that’s not a problem,” Rosy says. “I’ve had two decades of tracking that boy down. The first thing to do is figure out if he took one of the trucks or a boat.”

She flags down a passing golf cart and commandeers it, telling the porter and guests sitting on it we have emergency resort business.

They get out, looking bewildered, while the three of us pile in, and Rosy puts the pedal to the metal. Turns out she drives like Vin Diesel on speed. It’s a terrifying trip from the lobby over to the garage, then the pier, both for me and anyone who happens to be walking around the resort. I white-knuckle it while she alternates between honking and yelling, “Emergency! Out of the way, people!”

Swimsuit-clad people hop off the path into the bush, holding on to their hats and pool floaties as we zip by.

I’m in the back seat, gripping the handles on the armrest and pressing my feet into the floor as hard as possible, trying to keep myself from flying out, while Emma, who’s in the front passenger seat, turns and starts talking to me as though we’re chatting over a leisurely lunch.

“So, Libby, do you like kids?” she asks.

“Umm, generally yes, but I suppose it depends on the child.” I wince because we almost take out an elderly man with a walker. And when I say we almost take him out, I mean my arm brushed against him while we zoomed past.

“Good answer,” Emma says. “Harrison wants kids. He pretends he doesn’t, but he totally does.”

We come to a sudden stop at the pier, and after we all jump out, I follow Rosy and Emma as they run to the boathouse. Emma grabs a clipboard off the wall, then says, “He’s got Rogue Fun!”

I give her a quizzical look.

“Small speedboat used for scuba diving excursions,” she answers. “Super fast.”

Taking a deep breath, I say, “I think I know where he went.”

 

***

 

To bring you up to speed, Harrison’s not answering the Rogue Fun radio, which doesn’t help us at all. Rosy stayed back to call her nephew (a cop) to ask him to trace Harrison’s mobile phone (even though I’m pretty sure they don’t do that for cases of ‘I hurt the man I think I might love and need to find him to apologize and see if we can have a future together before I leave the country forever.’ But hey, it’s worth a shot, right?)

Emma and I barely made it on this afternoon’s booze cruise as it was departing the pier — like, literally the catamaran was pulling away and Emma jumped (she’s a total badass, by the way). I may or may not have tried to jump as well, which resulted in me slipping, just barely managing to grab hold of the boat’s ledge with my fingertips and slamming my body against the side. This may or may not have left me dangling there with the bottom half of my body in the sea while I waited to be pulled aboard (because let’s be honest, my upper body strength is enough to lift a wine bottle in each hand, not enough to lift an entire adult-sized human onto a boat, even if that human is me). But don’t feel bad for missing the live version. Several of the guests were filming on their phones, so I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to Google it by now. Look up “Ginger Getting on Boat Fail.”

Anyway, we just finished rushing up the ladder (I sloshed/slipped my way up while Emma boosted my bottom, which was awkward but also oddly comforting because she’s super on board with her brother ending up with me now). Unfortunately, because the catamaran was the only resort watercraft that wasn’t already out, it’s going to be a sllllooowww ride to the unnamed secret island. Luckily, Emma knew which one I meant when I started to explain it to her, because there’s no freaking way I’d be able to guide us there.

“Does this thing go any faster?” I ask Justin, who's at the wheel of the catamaran.

He adopts a Scottish accent and says, “I’m givin’ her all she’s got, Captain.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Emma says, rolling her eyes at Justin. “You go serve drinks, I’ll drive.”

Justin does as she suggested while Emma gets behind the wheel and pushes the throttle fully down, then turns to me. “This will give us about an extra 2 km per hour.”

“So at this rate, we should get there sometime around…”

“Christmas, yes,” she says. “But it’ll give me time to tell you about my brother. First, he's as stubborn as he is generous, so if you can get past the mule-like qualities, you’ll see he’s actually really terrific. But do not tell him I said that, because I’ll deny it to the grave.”

“Noted.”

“He also hates The Beatles, so if you're some major fan and you need to listen to them every day, this probably won't work out,” she says gravely.

“He already told me, and while I can’t fathom it, I can accept it,” I return with as much gravity as possible.

“Wow. If he told you that, he must really like you.”

Rosy’s voice comes over the CB radio. “Big Momma to Baby Bear. Come in Baby Bear. Over.”

Emma rolls her eyes, then picks up the radio receiver and microphone and says, “Do we have to use the code names? I really hate the code names.”

There’s a long pause and some crackling.

Emma sighs. “Baby Bear here.” After another long pause, Emma says, “Over.”

Rosy’s voice comes back on. “Hey, Baby Bear, I’m afraid it’s a no-go with the boys in blue. Over.”

“So, you’re saying Tyson couldn’t help trace Harrison’s mobile phone?”

Static.

Emma clicks the button. “Over.”

“I forgot they took the kids to Disneyland. How’s the search going on your end? Over.”

“Slow. Next time Harrison wants to disappear, I’m hiding the Rogue Fun keys. He can take the catamaran. Over.”

 

***

 

The tiny lush island comes into view an hour and a half and one stop for lobster-fishing later (which Emma did, by the way. See? Badass). My head is pounding from the heat and the steady thrum of the music from the lower deck. It’s a full-on party down there, and to be honest, I cannot wait to get off. I can hardly hear myself think. What I do know is I’m all sweaty and my heart is racing. I’m terrified and excited and feel pukey all at the same time, which is not my normal state.

Finally, we make our way around the island to the beach where Harrison docked the boat when he brought me here. I hold my breath, hoping against hope he’ll be here. If he's not, I don't have a plan B in mind. I don’t even have a plan A, actually. Just search and hope, but it somehow feels oddly okay. No nosebleeds yet, so that must be a good sign.

“He's here!” Emma says, pointing as the Rogue Fun comes into view.

A wave of relief washes over me, which is then quickly replaced by a gripping fear. “This suddenly seems like a horrible idea,” I say to Emma. “What if he meant what he said? What if he really doesn't care about me? What if he's here with some other woman?”

“Oh God, I never thought of that,” Emma says, biting her lip. Then she shrugs. “Well, you know what? There’s only one way to find out.”

She docks the party boat, and we climb down to the main deck. While Justin puts the dock out, I search the beach for any sign of Harrison, but he’s not here.

Emma must come to the same conclusion because she says, “Damn. You’re going to have to go up the mountain.” Putting her hands on my shoulders, she says, “Go get him, Libby.”

“Wait, you’re not coming with me?”

Shaking her head, she says, “No way. Can you imagine how awkward it would be if he actually is in love with you and I’m there all, ’Hey guys, don’t mind me while you’re making out’?”

“Good point,” I say, realizing this means I have to go searching for him in the jungle alone. I swallow hard. “Okay. So I’ll just go look. It might take me a while to find him and then come back to let you know.”

“Oh, we can’t stay.”

“What?”

“Yeah, we can’t keep all these people on the boat that long. We’re for sure going to run out of booze, which is when the wheels start coming off.”

“Really? You’d think it would be while people are drinking…”

“Yeah, you would, but no. Weird, right?”

“Very,” I say.

“Are you stalling because you’re scared?” Emma asks.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” I blow out a breath and give her a confident smile. “Okay, I better get going. I’ll just go up the mountain alone and find him, without anyone else to help in case of a snake or iguana attack. But if I do make it alive and it turns out he’s with someone else or he doesn’t love me back, I’m sure he’ll give me a ride back to the resort. It’ll be a little awkward, but nothing fatal.”

“Iguanas rarely attack. Just don’t challenge one for his food. And don’t worry about snakes. There aren’t any, I promise.”

“But the other stuff…” I say, swallowing hard.

Emma gives me two thumbs up. “Good luck to you.”

“Thanks.”

I take off my flip-flops (which I suddenly realize are not exactly hiking shoes), lift up my sundress (also not very practical for an early evening jaunt through an uninhabited island), and wade through the water to the shore. Standing on the beach, I watch for a minute while the party boat sets off, taking with it my last chance to change my mind.

Okay, Libby. Time to wing it.