Getting Lei'd (12 page)

We are all laughing as we climb back aboard Kai’s boat. “What? It’s true!” Baggy declares, not seeing why the Brady Bunch reference makes her statement seem so much less ominous.

“Only you,” Ruthie tells her lovingly, shaking her head as she chucks the rock back into the sea.

Later that evening, depression over our imminent departure starts to set in. I have been somewhat successful at refusing to think about leaving this lovely island or the fantastic man I met here, but all too quickly our stay is coming to an end. The time has flown by, and now suddenly it’s time to start packing. I feel like hurling myself onto the floor like a two-year-old and kicking my feet because I don’t want to leave.

The fact that I was able to enjoy today and not spend the entire day thinking about having to leave is a huge improvement over my norm. I have always been this way. I would ruin Sunday by dreading school on Monday. I am always looking forward at what is coming around the bend rather than enjoying the here and now. I’m actually rather proud of myself for not letting the impending end to our trip dampen my spirits until now.

The dread had wanted to start creeping in earlier today on Kai’s boat, but I had managed to keep it at bay by repeatedly forcing myself not to think about it. I have no choice but to think about it now, though, because it’s time to start packing my belongings into my suitcase—much as I don’t want to.

Sitting in the dark by the pool, avoiding the chore of packing, I am slowly and methodically ripping the petals from the lovely flower that was previously tucked behind my ear. I don’t know why I’m doing it, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

“He loves you.” Kai has snuck up behind me and he whispers the words near my ear. The sweet and wonderful words send a tingly chill up and down my spine, even though I know it’s too soon for them to possibly be true.

He sits down with me, and I know that I need to tell him that I am leaving, but I just can’t seem to formulate the words. He has to know it is coming soon. Maybe he even knows our checkout is scheduled for tomorrow.

Our impending departure is all I can think about, but I just can’t find a way to utter the words. Eventually, I cop out by saying that I am tired and feigning a yawn before heading back to my room.

I’m such a ridiculous chicken
, I decide as I neatly tuck items into my suitcase. Baggy and Ruthie both opted to spend the night with their boyfriends—that juvenile word doesn’t seem accurate, but I’m not sure what else to call them. Those two don’t seem at all concerned about packing or getting ready to leave. They’ll probably both slide in here at the last minute tomorrow and start tossing their few belongings and purchases into my bag. They both spend every moment in the here and now. It likely hasn’t even crossed their minds that we’ll be leaving tomorrow. Tomorrow . . . sigh.

I sleep fitfully, but must eventually doze off because I’m startled awake when Baggy and Ruthie return to the room. There is a queasy ball in the pit of my stomach about having to tell Kai good-bye today. I don’t want to say the words or do the leaving.

Ruthie and Baggy are chatting amiably as if this isn’t the worst day ever. “You two are pretty chipper, considering we are leaving paradise today,” I grumble at them.

They both look at me with wide eyes, like this is complete news to them. “Come on, you didn’t think we were staying here forever? It’s time to head home.” They both give me blank stares. A thought pops into my head that makes my stomach drop even further. “You
did
book your return flights, right?” I don’t think I could handle heading home, leaving the two of them to live it up in paradise without me until one or the other of them has enough sense to come back.

“Of course we did,” Baggy informs me. “We booked the same return flight you are on.” I heave a sigh of relief. It might be selfish, but if I can’t stay, I don’t want them to, either.

“We will fly with you to Atlanta and pick up Gary’s car.” I squint my eyes because I’d be shocked if Gary hadn’t already tracked down his car and picked it up, but I don’t mention that. We will deal with getting them a flight or rental car when the time comes. “You can either take your scheduled flight from Atlanta or ride back with us,” Baggy says, sounding surprisingly practical. It’s not like her to be so levelheaded or to think these types of things through in advance.

“I don’t want to go home,” Ruthie pouts, actually sticking her lip out and stomping one foot. It looks like she might be the one who throws the toddler tantrum that I considered last night.

Baggy looks at her for a long moment. “Let’s just stay then,” she decides.

Quick as a wink, Baggy’s practical moment is gone. I take a deep breath, wondering why I am always stuck being the Debbie Downer voice of reason with these two. For once, it would be nice if I were the one throwing the fits and announcing that I’m staying on permanent vacation. Alas, it’s not meant to be, I decide, before jumping in to state the obvious.

“We can’t do that,” I tell them matter-of-factly. “It’s time for us to get back to the real world.” Two blank stares gaze back at me, so I forge on. “Besides, they probably have our room rented out,” I try.

“Maybe, but we could always stay with our men.” Baggy waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

I don’t allow myself to think about how awesome it would be to stay at Kai’s beach house. The nonstop temptation to make love would probably kill us both. I turn to Ruthie. “We need to get back to work.”

“I’ll give Jesse a call at the bar,” she says flippantly. “I’m sure he won’t mind if I take a few more days off. One of the other girls will be glad to pick up my shifts.” I doubt if either of those last two statements are true, but I’m also quite certain that Ruthie really wouldn’t mind if she lost her job at the Thirsty Dog Saloon. She’d find something else.  She always lands on her feet. I, on the other hand, have a job at an accounting firm where people will be very upset if I don’t return on schedule. Unlike Ruthie, I care about inconveniencing others, and I try my best not to ever do it.

I can’t believe we are even discussing staying. I have responsibilities and people who count on me, and I’m a grown-up—unlike these two, who apparently think they can stay on vacation forever. “It’s kind of expensive here,” I point out, but even as I say the words, I know it’s a moot point because money is never a consideration for Baggy.

I’m not sure where her never-ending supply of hundred-dollar bills comes from, but she never seems to give a thought to the idea that they might one day run out.
Maybe she prints them in her basement
, I think crabbily before chastising myself. Baggy is wild and crazy and unpredictable, but she is also honest and loyal and faithful. She would never do something blatantly wrong like that—she’s more of a “gray area” wrongdoer.

“Pish-posh.” Baggy waves off the money issue like I had anticipated she would. “I’ll pay for everything. Don’t you worry about it, sweets.” She pats my cheek. “I’ll go down and see if our room is available for a bit longer.” I can’t help but wonder what she considers to be a “bit.” I briefly consider calling my office and telling them I have some tropical-sounding illness, but I just don’t have it in me. The idea of telling them the truth—that I’m having a wonderful time and want to stay here longer—is not a viable option.

I shake my head. I can’t believe these two have me trying to work out scenarios of how to stay here. “No,” I say vehemently. “I can’t stay here. It’s time to get back to the real world.”

Ruthie looks concerned as her eyes swoop between the two of us. “I’ll just go check how long the room is available,” Baggy announces before sailing out the door.

Ruthie beelines for the bathroom, presumably to get away from me angrily stuffing items into my suitcase. I’m not sure why I
always
have to be the responsible one with these two. You’d think for once—like maybe on
my
honeymoon—I’d get to be the carefree, spontaneous one.

I guess it just isn’t meant to be. Apparently I don’t have it in me. I shouldn’t blame Baggy and Ruthie because I didn’t inherit whatever loosey-goosey gene that allows them to not think about consequences or mundane things like jobs and bills. I wish I could do it, but I just can’t. If the temptation of spending more time with Kai in Hawaii can’t beat the sensibility out of me, I guess nothing ever will.

I try placing my paintings flat on top of my belongings in the suitcase, but I must not have packed as orderly as I did on the way here because the bag won’t zip around them. Reluctantly, I decide to roll them up and place a soft ponytail holder around them. I’ll carry them on board the plane by hand. It’s not an ideal solution for my canvases, but it will have to do. At the last minute, I decide to leave one of them out of the scroll.

Once I’m packed, I flop down on the bed, already tired and frustrated. I look around the room and realize it won’t take Baggy and Ruthie long to throw the meager belongings they have purchased here into a bag. Perhaps Baggy will come back with news that the resort is booked. Then it will be much easier to convince them to come home. The idea of leaving them here while I have to leave really irks me. It will be hard enough with the two of them in tow to leave Kai.

As if on cue, Baggy rushes through the door. “Oh good, I caught you,” she says to me. “We get to stay!” She exclaims these words as if they are the answer to all of our problems. I guess she had expected me to jump for joy because when I don’t, she continues, “Honey, there’s no reason to be blue. I booked the room for a bit longer, so we don’t have to leave today.”

I just stand there looking at her. Ruthie emerges from the bathroom, evidently having decided, after hearing Baggy’s voice, that it is once again safe. It is so tempting to stay, but I know it will just make it that much harder when we do have to leave. “Didn’t you hear me?” Baggy seems perplexed about my lack of enthusiasm. “Unpack your things. We are staying.”

“I’m not,” I say flatly. “I have a job and responsibilities to get back to. It was nice of my office to allow me to go ahead and take the time off for the honeymoon, even though there wasn’t a wedding, but they need me to come back.” I’m not completely sure if I’m trying to convince her or myself when I continue, “I’ll already have piles of work to catch up on when I get back. If I stay longer, that will only get worse.”

“Do as you wish,” Baggy tells me, as if I would wish to leave this paradise and the man of my dreams.

Realizing that I will never be able to explain it so the two of them will understand, I heave my suitcase off the bed. “I’ll see you whenever you decide to come home.” I hug them both, managing to hold back the tears despite the giant ball of fire in my throat.

“I wish you’d stay with us,” Baggy tries one more time and Ruthie nods her agreement.

I just shake my head for fear that the tears will start flowing if I attempt to speak. With that, I scurry out of the room, almost flipping my suitcase from its rollers in my haste. Once I have it righted, I leave without looking back.

Peeking around the corner, I am relieved that Kai is not yet tending bar. I’m certain that I won’t have the strength to leave if I see him again. I leave the present on the counter for him, along with a quickly scrawled note, which reads,
To help you remember our time together. Always, Roxy.

Using my cell phone, I look up and call an island taxi service. I know that I am being a coward, but I don’t think I can face Kai, and I know I can’t bear to tell him good-bye. It is all I can do to leave without seeing him one last time, but my sanity requires it. I walk around the outside of the open-air lobby and find a bench out front to wait for my cab. I’m sure that someone from the front desk would contact Kai about my leaving if I walked through there.

I really don’t think I can handle seeing him. Besides, it’s better to make a clean break. He’ll probably have moved on to a hot new tourist before the dinner show and forgotten about me, but I know that I will never forget him.

At this point, the tears start flowing, and by the time my cab arrives, it’s all I can do to blubber out that I’m going to the airport. The driver gives me the sad, slightly frightened look that men reserve for crying women—as if he’s trying to determine if he should comfort me or keep his distance because I’m loony.

He puts my bag in the back, but when he tries to take my rolled-up canvases, I snap, “No!” a little more harshly than I intend to. He bugs his eyes out at me, but doesn’t say anything. I climb into the back of the minivan and the rest of our ride is in silence, except for my occasional snuffling.

In a daze, I check my bag and board my flight. I must look like a crazy person because the flight attendants don’t even ask me to stow the paintings I am clutching in both hands. I spend the entire, ridiculously long flight and the shorter one that follows it silently freaking out, afraid that I have just made the biggest mistake of my life.

By the time I give the local taxi driver my home address, I have resigned myself to my decision. I did the right thing. I can’t just stay on permanent vacation. No one can. Eventually, even Ruthie and Baggy will have to come home.

If I had stayed, I’d have just become more and more attached to Kai, and I can’t have him. He’s amazing, gorgeous, sweet, intelligent, funny, kind, generous, honorable, and all of the things that any woman would want in a man. Why would I have thought that an average woman like me should be with such a catch? He deserves someone as wonderful as he is, and I’m sure he’ll find her. I definitely don’t want to be hanging around when that happens.
I made the right choice
, I tell myself for at least the 14,700th time since leaving.
Surely, one of these times I’ll start to believe it, right
?

In the cab, I look at my cell phone, which I haven’t turned back on after my flight. I am afraid that there will be a message from Kai, and I can’t handle hearing his voice right now. I don’t have the strength to resist him and stand by my plan. I want nothing more than to run back into his arms, even though I am almost certain that isn’t the right answer for either of us.