The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (The Devils #2)(31)
I set the suitcase on the bed and walk onto the balcony to take in Diamond Head. I hate that I won’t really be able to hold onto this trip. Memories are like artwork left in the rain. They blur and smudge until all that’s left is your weak interpretation of it, your best guess as to what it was. One day I’ll merely say I watched the sunset here, but I probably won’t remember the way Josh made me laugh. I won’t remember him saying Tell me something real, as if what I said and what I felt and what I thought actually mattered.
I’m going to miss this place, I think, taking it in for one last moment, and it won’t ever be the same without him.
“There you are,” says Beth when we arrive in the lobby. “We were worried last night.”
Six shrugs, unable to even pretend he cares about the inconvenience. “Sorry,” he says, sounding not at all sorry. “Time just got away from us.”
“Time got away from you,” Josh corrects. “She wasn’t the one who was supposed to text Mom.”
“Joel, we had reservations and this is a family trip,” his father begins. “We expect you to—”
Beth stops his lecture with a gentle hand to his forearm. “Jim, it’s fine. He made a mistake and he won’t do it again. Besides, we’ve probably overscheduled the kids. They deserve to have a few nights out without us old folks along.”
She’s covering for Six. She’s forgiving him quickly so that no one else can hold him accountable. All this time, I’ve felt like Six and I were in the same boat, the unloved black sheep of the family whose every misstep is magnified and whose every good deed still manages to be cast in a poor light.
But we aren’t the same at all. We are both black sheep, but Beth loves her son so much she won’t even let him suffer when he’s in the wrong. And my mother doesn’t love me enough to protect me, even when I’m in the right.
He grins at me now like we’ve gotten away with something. “Maybe I need a wife to keep me on the straight and narrow,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist. “What do you think, Mom? Should I keep her around?”
I stiffen. Never, not once, in all the time I’ve known him, has Six even hinted at marriage. I can’t imagine why he suddenly is now. You don’t decide you want to marry a woman you forgot about mere hours before. Josh stands frozen, staring at his brother as if he’s even more stunned and unhappy about what was just said than I am.
He opens the van door. Six tries to take the front and Josh snarls, “That’s her seat, she gets car sick,” and I start to wonder if I’ve made a grave error by remaining on this trip.
PART II
LANAI
“The tiniest of all the islands, and the loveliest as well.”
From Lanai: The Tiny Jewel
20
DREW
“It’s only eighteen miles at its widest point,” says Beth, reading to us aloud from her trusty guide book. “And it has no traffic lights. Can you imagine? No traffic lights.”
I flash a pained grin at our van driver, a local who probably doesn’t love hearing his home described as some kind of wasteland.
“And there’s no hospital,” she continues. “Oh my God. Forty-four percent of the population lives below the federal poverty line. Isn’t that a shame?”
“Mom,” I hear Josh intone, firm but gentle.
“I just think it’s a shame,” she argues. “Women who are thirty-six weeks pregnant can’t remain on the island. It’s primitive!”
I cringe and turn back toward her. “So what’s the plan while we’re here?” I ask desperately, before she says something even worse.
She glances up from her book with a smile, happy someone is finally on board with her agenda. “We’ll just relax this evening, and tomorrow we’ll golf—you’re sure you don’t want to come?”
Am I certain I don’t want to waste an entire day in Hawaii hitting a small ball while dressed like a fucking idiot? Quite.
“There’s also a sunrise hike,” she says. “The hotel provides a flashlight and map.”
I can’t help it—my eyes meet Josh’s. The sunrise is kind of our thing now. He raises his brow as if to say Obviously, we’re doing it.
“Mostly, we’re just here for a little rest and relaxation before the backpacking trip in Kauai,” Beth concludes.
I blink. I must have misheard her. There’s no way she just said backpacking trip. I doubt she’s ever stayed at less than a five-star hotel in her life, and camping is rarely a five-star experience, as far as I know.
“Um…backpacking?”
“Didn’t Joel tell you?” she asks. “I booked us on this amazing two-day hiking trip on the Kalalau Trail in Kauai. It’s supposed to be one of the most scenic hikes in the world.”
“Mom,” Josh says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know that it’s a good idea. A hike like that…it’s a lot.”
I see a silent exchange occur between his hard stare and her refusal to meet his eye. “We’ll see,” she says quietly.