Groaning, I down my soda like the guy two seats up and one over is downing tiny bottles of rum. When I went to the bathroom last, I saw he had like seven on his tray. Guess first-class customers really do get away with whatever they want?
There’s a button that turns my seat into a bed, so as soon as the flight attendant collects my cup, I press it, and then curl up to take a nap.
When I arrive, there’s a limo waiting for me.The Cabots live in an almost disturbingly huge mansion, right on the edge of the beach. My room leads out onto a deck with stairs that go right down to the yard, and from there, it’s just a short walk to the sandy shore. Even though I grew up in Cruz Bay, and the beach has always been a short drive away, it’s no less impressive. I just have to keep reminding myself that this is the Atlantic Ocean, not the Pacific. It’s pretty surreal, to be honest.
The house itself is actually quite homey, considering, and I can see Kathleen’s fingerprints all over the place.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she says, giving me what’s probably the twentieth or thirtieth hug since I got here. I know how bad Kathleen feels about what her son did to me, and I appreciate her genuine want and need to try and make up for that. “And I’m so pleased you girls have become friends. Miranda needs someone around to keep her grounded.”
“Mom,” Miranda groans, rolling her blue eyes and giving me an I’m so sorry my mom is clingy look. “Can you please leave Marnye alone? She didn’t come all the way across the country to be molested by you.”
Kathleen sighs and crosses her arms over her chest, her sunny yellow dress billowing in the gentle breeze from outside. Creed pauses beside her and puts my bags on the floor, looking mildly annoyed at his mother. She refused to let the butler—holy crap, they have a butler—do it, and insisted Creed take all my luggage up to my room.
“You,” she says, leveling a dark and disappointed stare on her child. I can see the damage done to Creed and Kathleen’s relationship from here. It doesn’t make me happy, exactly, but I also don’t feel overly guilty. Creed did this to himself. His own actions brought him down this path. There’s nothing I can do to change it; he has to repair his relationship with his mom by himself. “Pack your things. You’re going to stay with a friend.”
“What?” Creed chokes out, blinking confused blue eyes in Kathleen’s direction. “Why?”
She gives him a look, you know the type: a very parental sort of look. Children recognize it by the fear it strikes in their hearts; parents recognize it by the smug feeling they get when they cast it. Kathleen smiles, but it’s not a pretty expression. Her curly red hair is tucked up in a severe bun, adding to the image of authority, and her eyes are just as icy and blue as her children’s.
“Why do you think, oh genius son of mine?” She nods her chin in my direction. “I want Marnye to have a home away from home, and a place she can come and relax in if she needs space.”
“Yeah, it’s called her bedroom,” Creed drawls lazily, but I can see his hands curling into fists by his sides. He thought he’d won against the other guys by having me stay here. Looks like he was wrong. I smile and he catches my expression with a raised brow before turning back to his mother. “We’ve made up, Mom. We’re friends now.”
Kathleen doesn’t look convinced. Then again, she doesn’t know about the hot tub—and I hope she never finds out.
“Get your stuff together. Billy is sending a car to pick you up in a half hour.”
“I’m staying with the Kaisers?” Creed drawls, narrowing his eyes, and I chuckle.
“Zayd is there all by himself, and Billy would feel more comfortable if he had company. He asked if you could stay, and since I was looking into sending you to the B&B anyway, I agreed. I’ll be sending Kyle to keep an eye on the place as well, so don’t think you won’t have supervision.”
Oh. Kyle, the bodyguard. I’d forgotten about him completely.
Creed makes a frustrated sound in his throat, and grits his teeth, but he says nothing, breezing past his mother and up the stairs.
She mumbles something about needing coffee, and disappears, leaving me alone with Miranda.
We’re both dressed in sundresses: mine is new, a gift from Kathleen, and it’s the color of the sea at sunset, a balayage color pattern that goes from deep blue at the bottom to sandy gold in the middle and then orange and navy at the top. Miranda is outfitted entirely in a pale blue that matches her eyes, complete with yellow daisies.
