Troubles in Paradise (Paradise #3)(25)

Colton and Bright run up ahead, leaving Maia and Joanie to eat their dust.

“Hey, wait up!” Joanie says. “Cole!”

Her mother was right, Maia thinks. Love is messy and complicated. And, most of all, unfair.





Irene


Because she no longer has a vehicle of her own, Irene joins Huck on his errands after their fishing charter. This means going to a few places:

Starfish Market for (most) groceries. It’s BYOB—bring your own bag. Huck keeps a stash of reusable shopping bags behind the driver’s seat of his truck, which Irene finds charming. Russ rarely (if ever) shopped for groceries, and the idea of him remembering reusable shopping bags is laughable.

Papaya Café and Bookstore for a Vietnamese coffee and a browse through the stacks of used books. Huck is a particular fan of the coffee (he has turned Irene on to it as well) and of Michael Connelly. He’s patiently waiting for some tourist to turn in a copy of Dark Sacred Night. In the meantime, he buys a James Patterson novel, one of the Women’s Murder Club series, which he says aren’t half bad.





“I’ll take your word for it,” Irene says.

“Why don’t you pick out a book?” Huck says. “My treat.”

It’s kindnesses like this that make Irene emotional. She thinks back to New Year’s Day, her dinner at the Pullman Bar and Diner with Lydia followed by a trip to Prairie Lights, where Irene thought nothing of buying whatever books struck her fancy. Now it feels like an unreasonable luxury to spend ten or twelve dollars on a used book. Irene shops carefully. What will help her escape? She finds a well-loved copy of The Vacationers by Emma Straub for six bucks. She hands it to Huck. She wishes they were merely vacationers.

“Thank you,” she says.

Huck studies the cover. “Maybe I’ll read it when you’re done. Do you want a coffee too, AC?”

She has stopped trying to get him not to use the nickname. She likes it more than she cares to admit. “Please,” she says.

Pine Peace Market for beer, wine, and a fresh bottle of Flor de Ca?a. Best prices.

St. John Market for anything they didn’t have at Starfish. St. John Market is right across from the Westin resort and time-shares, so it’s heavily populated by fish-belly-pale tourists buying groceries. (It’s to be avoided at all costs on Saturdays, when families arrive for the week; Irene learned this the hard way.)





A few days earlier, Irene bumped into her own son at St. John Market. Baker was buying a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of white bread, for Floyd’s school lunches, Irene assumed. He had been too busy considering the ingredients on the peanut butter jar to register any surprise at seeing Irene. (Maybe he wasn’t surprised, Irene thought. It was a small island.)

“This isn’t organic,” he said. “And it has a lot of sugar.” He held up the bread. “This isn’t sprouted whole-grain spelt or whatever. If my school wives from Houston saw this, they’d stage an intervention.”

“They’ll never know,” Irene said, and she and Baker shared a smile for the first time in what felt like forever.

Irene and Huck had also bumped into Ayers Wilson at St. John Market. They were walking in while Ayers was untying Winnie from the railing outside.

“There’s my granddog!” Irene said, crouching down to rub Winnie’s silky butterscotch head. Winnie’s tail was going nuts. Winnie was happy to see Irene—but Ayers seemed to be another story.

“Hey,” Ayers said flatly. She didn’t look good. Her hair was unbrushed, her eyes puffy, her skin sallow. Cash had told Irene that Ayers had taken a leave of absence from the boat and also that her engagement had ended, leaving her free to care for Winnie.

“I owe you a huge thank-you for helping Cash out,” Irene said. “I’m not sure what would have happened otherwise.”

“It’s no big deal,” Ayers said. “I like having her around…good distraction and all that. It gets me outside a couple of times a day, anyway.”

“Are you okay, honey?” Huck asked. “If you don’t mind my saying so, you look like death on a stick.”

“Huck!” Irene said.

“It’s okay,” Ayers said. “I’m just…going through some stuff right now.” She frowned at Huck. “And I’ve been meaning…there’s something I need to talk to you about. Later. I’ll call you later.”

“Anytime,” Huck said.

Irene wanted to ask Ayers if she knew that Baker was staying at the Westin or if she knew Baker was moving to the island permanently if he could find a suitable rental, but she couldn’t get into everything that had happened while they were all there at the store, so Irene said, “We’re on the hunt for mangoes for Maia,” and Ayers led Winnie back to her little green truck.

Huck said, “Did she seem off to you?”

“Yes,” Irene said. “But you should never tell a woman she looks anything less than radiant.”

“Oops,” Huck said.

St. John Business Center. This is where Huck picks up his mail. There’s always a long line of people who need to scan or make copies or ship something back to the States. Last time, Irene went inside with Huck. Candice, the woman in charge, asked Huck if Irene was his new lady friend, and Huck said, “Irene is my business partner,” and Candice said, “Okay, if that’s what you want to call it.”