Wet Part 3 (34 page)

“I’m not leaving until you open. I need to see you, make sure you’re all right.”

“I’ll save you the trouble. I’m not. Please, just go away.”

“No.”

Rhees finally opened the door, threw her arms around Claire, and they both cried.

“I’m pathetic,” Rhees blubbered. “I’m such a baby! I can’t stop crying. I’ve lost him, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. I’m so scared and miserable. I’ll never grow up.”

Claire closed the door and sat her down on the couch. She kneeled in front of her, and put her hands on Rhees’ knees.

“You’re not a baby.”

“Yes, I am. I—”

“No, Sweet. You’re perfectly normal,” Claire assured. “It’s normal to be miserable, even scared, but it’s only been a day—”

“Two. He left the night before last,” Rhees corrected Claire.

“Still too soon to give up, but even if you’re right, life will go on.”

“I don’t know how?” Rhees sobbed. “I’m scared. I have no one. I have nothing.”

Claire shushed her.

“You have me, and you have Dobbs. You still have the shop, and all our friends on the island. Most of all, you have yourself. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Rhees shook her head and sniffed, ready to start crying again.

“I’m serious. I could never make it through all you’ve gone through, but look at you.”

“You do realize I was institutionalized, just a few weeks ago, right?” Rhees asked, scowling as she said it.

Claire snorted.

“That was just a little break, a holiday.” Claire got up and sat on the couch next to Rhees. “The doctor would have let you out in twenty-four hours if it weren’t for Paul. He threw a tantrum at the hospital, ranted on and on about how they’d better not amputate your leg, insisting they bring in an American doctor. He told them he’d pay for it, that he didn’t care if it cost a million dollars. He hit someone.

“After Paul made it so clear he could afford it, they kept you, to give him time to cool off, not because you needed to be there. Based on what the doctor said, it might have done more good if they’d sent you to the luxury hotel, and kept Paul there for observation, instead.” Claire chuckled.

“How do you know all that?”

“Paul was a wreck.” Claire sobered. “He called me. I had to talk him off the ledge, several times a day until they finally released you.”

“I thought he was angry with me,” Rhees whispered. “That he was just taking his anger out on them. I thought he was ashamed of me for what I’d done.”

“You didn’t do anything, Rhees. You were a baby, a victim.”

“I know that, now, at least, I’m working on it. I’ve been dreaming about the kids we’ve had in the Kid’s Club—Asher was five,” Rhees’ voice dropped to just above a whisper. “I dreamed someone was trying to . . .
hurt
him. He’s so little, and sweet, and helpless . . . and . . .
I
was only five.”

Claire nodded, but cast her eyes down.

“In my dream, I shot the man trying to hurt him.” Rhees looked at Claire, their eyes met, and Rhees knew Claire understood where that had come from. “I find myself taking control in my dreams, more and more.”

“I think that’s good, don’t you? See? That’s exactly what I mean,” Claire said, throwing her hands up in the air. “You’re not a baby. Being kind, and tenderhearted, and unfamiliar about certain . . .
things
, doesn’t make you a baby.”

Rhees wanted to believe her, but she didn’t feel very grown up at the moment.

“No other woman has been able to wrangle Paul the way you do.”

“I’ve never wrangled him.” Rhees hated the way that word sounded and scowled again, but Claire arched a brow.

“That boy is whipped—”

“That boy is gone!”

“He’ll be back.”

“You don’t know that—you don’t know him the way I do.”

“Okay. With or without him, we are going to go on, do you hear? You will run the shop, and Dobbs and I will be right there, by your side.”

“You know I have no claim to the shop. It’s his, and in this country, I have no right to try and claim it.”

“You’re in charge,” Claire assured. “Until he comes back, or until someone else shows up with the deed to evict us, it’s yours to run.”

Claire’s suggestion shocked Rhees out of her fit of wallowing, self-pitying, stupefaction. The idea that Paul would sell the shop out from under them all, sounded preposterous, he would never do that.

He
had
taken care of her. He’d left, like he said he would, the other night on the deck—it had been such a small clue—but he’d implied that he would leave, and she’d be left with the shop. She wanted to cry again at the confirmation that he had left for good, but she refused. It really was time to grow up.

“But we’re kind of snookered,” Claire continued.

“We need computers and a phone.” Rhees’ brain started working again. She could do this.

“Dobbs and I’ll use our savings.”

“No,” Rhees said. “I won’t let you dip into your savings. You’re saving for your own shop.”

“But if we don’t get up and running again—”

“I know,” Rhees said. “I have money in my bank account.”

She closed her eyes, remembering the morning in the hotel room. The day the courier delivered a package, the credit card with her name on it. She thought wherever Paul had run off to, he might be so giddy about reuniting with Ginger, he’d forget to pay the bill, or maybe he’d be angry with Rhees for using it, now that he no longer wanted her in his life. He might cancel it, and all she’d have left was the remnants of the ten thousand he’d put into her account, nine thousand, six hundred and seventy dollars. It was probably enough to buy what they needed, but she made a decision right then.

“And a credit card—we’ll use the credit card—until we can’t.”

“It’s going to take a bit,” Claire said, worried. “Is your limit high enough to cover that much?”

Rhees grinned in spite of how her world had fallen apart. She smirked, thinking about how Paul had actually apologized for the limit restriction.

“Do you think a hundred grand will cover it?” It stabbed her heart to be making fun of Paul’s concern, the concern he’d once had for her, but she didn’t let Claire see her pain—the pain she’d have to hide with a fake smile, for the rest of her life, starting now.

“I think it will,” Claire said dryly, her face blank, in shock, but then she nodded, thoughtfully. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Rhees tried to laugh, but almost sobbed instead before she caught herself. Apparently, she wasn’t hiding her pain as well as she’d hoped because Claire gave her a sympathetic hug. Rhees dissolved into Claire’s embrace. “He’s gone!”

“Codswallop,” Claire said. “You can’t be sure after a day—two days.”

“I do. I know. I can’t tell you how I know, but I do.”

“I thought you were done keeping secrets,” Claire whispered, running her hand up and down Rhees’ back. “You don’t have to keep it in. You’ll feel better if you let it out, and let me and your friends help you through it.”

“I can’t betray his confidence.”

Claire let out a frustrated groan, but just held her friend.

“He’ll be back,” she finally said. “He can’t breathe without you.”

“No,” Rhees wailed. “He went back to Ginger.”

“Ginger?” Claire sounded doubtful. “Bollocks.”

“Yes. He got an email from her, and the next thing I know, he’s breaking things, trashing the office, saying
good riddance
to everything here.”
Including me.
She let out another sob. “All Ginger had to say was that she missed him, and he couldn’t get out of here fast enough . . . to get to her.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“You knew her. She was beautiful, right? He loved her. He claimed he’d never loved anyone, but it’s just because he didn’t want to admit that the only woman he loved, broke his heart.”

“No. I don’t think so—what makes you think that?” Claire studied Rhees, waiting for an answer that Rhees couldn’t get out, she was crying too hard. “I would never describe Ginger as beautiful, crazy maybe, but not beautiful.”

Claire thought about it for a minute, trying to remember her. It had been years.

“Ginger wasn’t what most would call beautiful. She was skinny, too skinny. She had bright, red hair, and freckles. It was like freckles in reverse, think of the negative of a photo. Ginger could play Pippi Longstocking in a movie, not only in looks, but in her quirkiness too. She was funny, if you got her sense of humor—I did mention she was crazy, right?”

“But he loved her.”

“I never noticed any love vibes between them. The four of them, Paul, Ginger, Mitch and Shanni all showed up together. Mitch and Shanni were obviously together, but Ginger was Mitch’s cousin. I always thought that was the only reason Paul and Ginger . . .
hung out
.” Claire cursed at herself. She always spoke her mind, never pulled punches, but now she wanted to be careful. She didn’t want to give Rhees any more reason to hurt.

“Everyone knew they were shagging—” Claire cursed at herself again, but decided to just tell the truth, “—but they were also shagging others.”

“One day, Shelly asked Ginger how serious the two of them were. Ginger laughed so loud—everyone heard it when Ginger told Shelly he could sleep with whoever he wanted, but Shelly would have to be keen with taking her turn in a long line. That’s about when the Coitus Club was called to order, but back then, Ginger was the president.”

Rhees looked confused, and Claire realized her memories of Ginger weren’t doing Rhees any good.

“Rhees, I don’t think he loved her. I don’t think Paul’s ever been in love with anyone—until you.”

“Why’d she leave?” Rhees looked down at her hands.

“I’m not sure, exactly. Boredom? I think she said something about the island being too small and boring, that booze was child’s play.” Claire had understood what Ginger meant by that, that the availability of drugs on the island was limited compared to the other places Ginger had lived, but she realized Rhees probably didn’t understand. She felt a sense of relief when Rhees didn’t ask her to clarify.

Claire had lived in Thailand. She felt grateful she wouldn’t have to try to explain that culture to her innocent friend, or confess that she’d once been stupid enough to take part in it. She’d also dodged planting any suggestion in Rhees’ mind that Paul probably had too. She’d hate to be the one to break it to Rhees, if he hadn’t already.

“Ginger was always talking about going back to Asia, trying to convince Paul to go with her, but once he bought the shop, she got angry. She grew meaner and more unpleasant to be around than ever. The next thing I knew, she was on a plane out of here. I wasn’t a bit sad about it—I don’t think anyone was—including Paul.”

Rhees looked skeptical of her opinion. Claire knew her friend was convinced that Paul had run off to be with Ginger. She didn’t believe it herself, but she didn’t know how to convince Rhees.

“You’ve got him blinkered.”

“What?”

“He only sees you.” Claire laughed. “In the four years I’ve known him, he’s never shown more than a roger interest in anyone, until you came along.”

Rhees looked confused again.

“Randy, horny, a desire to have his wicked way with—that’s all he ever wanted from any girl—until you. He loves you, Rhees.”

“But he’s gone!” Rhees blurted out the obvious, again. “Without so much as a good-bye, it’s been nice knowin’ ya.”

“You can’t know that. It’s too soon to know.”

“I told you. I do know.” Rhees hung her head and thought about Paul’s story. He left Florida, his friends, his home, his family. She had to let Claire know why she was so sure, without divulging too much. She would never betray him, no matter that he’d broken her heart, and left her for good. “This isn’t the first time he’s run away and never looked back.”

The next few seconds were awkward.

“Okay, so, we need to get up and running again,” Rhees finally said, squaring her shoulders and summoning all the courage she could manage. “Where do we start?”

“Well, I asked around.” Claire perked up, too. “Apparently, Gio knows a lot about computers. He said he’d help us get set up.”

“That’s good.” Rhees thought it through. “Okay. Tomorrow, first thing, Gio and I will fly to the capital, get what we need, and be back on the three o’clock plane. Do you think that’s enough time—or should we leave tonight—spend the night at a hotel.”

“You’re going to fly?” Claire asked, surprised. “That’ll cost.”

“I don’t dare take the ferry alone.” She wouldn’t be alone, she’d have Gio, but she meant, without Paul. She didn’t believe anyone could protect her like Paul. “The ferry means a long bus ride—I’m never taking another bus again—not in this stinking country. A taxi is bad enough. We’ll need a city big enough to find everything in one place. I’d rather not be running around to a million stores. I want in, and out, fast. The additional cost of flying is worth it to me, and we avoid all the smaller crime hubs we’d otherwise have to drive through.” Rhees paused. “Maybe we should take Dobbs.”

Claire nodded, but didn’t look sure she wanted him to go.

“His size will help scare off any punk muggers,” Rhees clarified her reasoning.

Claire nodded again, still acting unsure, and Rhees rolled her eyes.

“You and Paul, both,” she groaned. “I can’t believe you two think I could possibly . . .”

“It’s not you,” Claire said sheepishly. She looked away, ashamed. “You know he’s older, right?”

Rhees laughed, shaking her head instead of answering, because Dobbs’ age, the fact was that he was not only older than Claire, but because he was older than most of the diving community on the island.

“I was about your age when we met.” Claire glanced at her, waiting for a reaction. Rhees didn’t give her one, waiting for more explanation.

“He’s fourteen years older than me . . .”

Claire kept adding pieces of evidence, her reasons for doubting, as though Rhees was supposed to understand. All Rhees knew for sure was that Dobbs loved Claire.

“Rhees, he was married when we met.”

Rhees finally did catch on, and her mouth dropped open in shock. Claire jumped in quickly to defend herself.

“They were separated. She told him she didn’t love him anymore, that she’d found someone else. He waited until the divorce was final to . . .
do
anything with me, but he’d been fighting to save his marriage, refused to sign the papers, until he met me.”

“See? He loves you.”

“I know.” Claire looked down. “I did anyway. That is until Paul made me doubt, the night Dobbs punched him. I’ve never seen Dobbs get violent, ever! Paul insinuated—it got me thinking. Dobbs’ interest in . . .
me
. . . has been a little . . . less. I can’t help but wonder—I was your age when we met, but I’m not your age anymore.”

“So you think he’s looking to trade you in for a newer model.” Rhees sighed, finally grasping the fear her friend felt. “I’m sorry I didn’t understand. It’s just that, Dobbs isn’t like that, and you know it.”