The drop of sweat started at her hairline, gathered momentum and volume as it coursed down the center of her nose, and hung at the end for a moment before dropping two stories—
—onto the doctor's forehead.
"Is—this—the Sky View Inn?" Abby asked, wiping their mingled sweat off her face.
"It will be," called Raven, kicking her feet out and using her gloved hands to slide down the ladder. She turned, removing one glove and extending her hand. "Hi," she said, "I'm Raven."
"Abby, Dr. Griffin. I have a reservation?"
Raven smiled.
"But call me Abby." Between the heat and the breeze, the unexpected un-done-ness of the hotel and Raven's smile, her worn jeans and dirty white v-neck with rolled up sleeves, Abby found her mouth unusually dry. "Can I buy a bottle of water?"
"Nope, but I'll buy you one," said Raven, "Come inside."
"There's an inside?"
"Yeah, I started on the far corner. Follow me."
They crossed through the concrete skeleton of what once was—or once was intended to be—a two-story courtyard hotel—or apartment building, it wasn't complete enough to be clear. They stepped inside the finished part.
Inside, at the far corner, stood a tiny bell desk on one side of a partition and a tiny bar on the other. A ceiling fan vaguely stirred the potted palm fronds.
"This is temporary," Raven said, indicating the makeshift reception area. "But my unit is just there, and the unit above is the one on AirBnB. One bottle of water, ma'am. Nice and cold."
The bottle frosted, and as the doctor held it, sweat rolled down its side, as her own beaded and flowed. She downed the water, eyes closed, and opened them on Raven's smiling appraisal.
"Raven, what is this place?"
"I don't know you well enough yet," Raven teased, "Just sign in, and I'll show you to your room. Bags?"
"Hmmm, old school sign-in?" Abby shook her head. "Just the daypack. Not planning on formal dining," murmured Abby.
Raven took the daypack and led the way up the polished concrete stairs. She keyed open the door—also old school—and placed the daypack on the bed next to the towel sculpture.
"What is that?" said Abby.
"A turtle, obviously," Raven replied. It wasn't. It was a platypus, but Raven's handiness did not extend to towel sculptures. She'd like to get hold of whoever started the expectation of towel sculptures in the first place.
"Will you be joining me for dinner?"
"I'd love to," said Abby, "when, where, and what's on the menu?"
"Six, al fresco, includes a tour, tour meets in our beautiful courtyard, and… uh… barbecue pork tacos. And… tequila? All inclusive."
"Margaritas? Sure. Frozen or on the rocks?"
"You're kidding, right? Shaken, not whirred."
"It sounds perfect. I'll see you in the—courtyard—at six." Abby reached into her pocket.
Raven shook her head, saying, "All-inclusive," and backed out of the room, striking her arm on the doorjamb. She swallowed her expletive hard.
"Are you okay?" asked Abby from the other side of the door.
"Yep, yep, yes I am," said Raven, working her jaw and rubbing her elbow. Then, making certain that nobody could see her, she smacked the back of her hand against her forehead. She headed back to familiar territory, pulling herself up the ladder with her arms and one leg, to work on the upper front room for a bit until it was time to wash up and ready dinner.
Raven hated hanging wallboard with the kind of passion reserved for soulmates or arch-enemies. Ceilings even more so. So she'd taken a page from her ship's mechanic days and had fashioned narrow, lightweight, soundproof panels from salvaged aluminum and rigid foam that she could install with just a few screws. She installed a few in the ceiling of the second-floor unit she'd been working on when the doctor had arrived.
She wondered if it had been a good idea to let out rooms before the entire building was complete. The doctor was clearly accustomed to more comfortable surroundings, but she also seemed very willing to go along. Raven appreciated her flexibility.
When she had finished installing the remaining ceiling panels in room 210, Raven climbed down the ladder to the outdoor shower, stripped to her bikini, showered, and dressed for dinner—cutoffs and a tank top. She grilled the pork and packed the picnic basket just in time to meet Abby, who—
—wow.
But never mind that, Raven reminded herself. The doctor being her first BnB customer, Raven needed to be professional.
"Buenas tardes," Raven said, smiling, strictly business.
"Buenas tardes." Abby's grin lit up the courtyard like the sunset sky above.
"I thought you might like a little ocean view with your dinner on your first night. I call it the Sky View for a reason, but we have a small beach access easement with Luna's Ocean View across the road."
Abby's eyes crinkled, and she nodded. "Let me take something," she said, reaching out.
Raven shook her head. "All-inclusive, remember?"
"I'm a doctor. Helping is what I do."
"You're on vacation."
Abby stood with one arm extended and the other akimbo. She opened and closed her outstretched hand. Raven opened and closed her mouth, then shrugged and handed Abby the blanket.
"Let's go, then," she said. "Careful crossing, though, people drive like maniacs here—even though they're on island time."
Abby nodded. They crossed.
"That's it. That's the tour," said Raven.
Abby brought her empty hand to her mouth, but the lines by her eyes revealed her amusement.
Abby waited until they had spread the blanket out on the sand and laid out the food to ask, "Island time? Is that why the Sky View is expanding one room at a time?"
Raven laughed. "No," she said, serving Abby. "Barbacoa tacos, guacamole, y—margherita simple."
"Salud." Abby raised her glass.
"Salud," Raven toasted—and drained half the glass. What?
Abby noticed, but sipped a bit, then bit into one of her tacos. "Umph… this is delicious," she gasped between bites.
"Glad you like it, cuz I can grill but not a lot else," said Raven.
"You can build a hotel from scratch."
"Nah, I'm just doing the easy part."
Abby softly smiled.
They faced east, away from the setting sun, as the sky filled with orange and pink. The waves surged and receded, filling the silence as they ate. At last, Abby turned toward Raven and waited.
"We don't often get people traveling alone here," said Raven, after a few moments, not looking at her.
"I imagine not."
Surf intervened as a few pink clouds pointed at some far off vanishing point. Raven let the doctor sink into her thoughts.
Since high school Raven's crew had talked about wanting to buy a big place and live together. They had seen what was going on. There was no way in hell any of them would be able to afford a house—or even an apartment—anywhere they would want to live. And Raven—having bounced between distant relatives while her mom was drying out, or in jail, or on a bender—for her the dream had provided a focal point, for years.
And when she'd seen the hurricane-ravaged concrete skeleton of a building—again and again as her ship made stops in Cozumel—she promised herself she would find out what it would take to buy and fix that funky property.
What it took was a buttload of ships' contracts, eating shitty food, working shitty hours, and sleeping in shitty quarters—better hours, work, and quarters than the food service crew, but considerably worse than the entertainment crew, and infinitely worse than the headliners.
Finn was a headliner, a juggling comedian, and one of the youngest to make headliner. And everybody was working and drinking and fucking themselves—and each other—into oblivion, to handle the work and the food and the quarters. Why not fuck the guy with the best quarters? Problem with that was falling for him.
While he fell for that blonde passenger.
"He died."
"He died?"
"Yes, my husband died a year ago this week. That's why I'm here alone."
"I—I'm so sorry, I—"
"It's okay. I mean it's not okay, but I'm beginning to get used to it. I guess. Anyway…"
"Anyway..?"
"I should help clean up and let you get on with your night."
"No, Abby, relax. It's a big deal to lose someone you love. And anniversaries can really—suck—so… be comfortable, relax, hang out with me if you want, or don't, whatever feels right, and—I don't know, do what you need to."
Abby smiled. "Let's just sit for a bit."
"All right."
"Then I'll help you clean up."
Pink and orange crawled across the sky, and the clouds broke up a little into fish scales.
"'Mackerel sky, mackerel sky, little bit wet, little bit dry'," quoth the Raven.
"Looks like salmon to me," said Abby.
"Yeah, it does."
The wind picked up a little across the beach. Raven, moving slowly, picked up the picnic and put it in the basket.
Then, without asking, she unfurled a second, thinner, blanket that had been tucked into the basket's lid. She tucked it around Abby as Abby's hair whipped about her face.
Their eyes met, Abby's glassy, Raven's soft.
"Thank you," said Abby, barely audible above the waves.
Raven just smiled and sat back down next to her.
Finn would arrive mid-week one week and leave mid-week the next, so the cruise line would get a comedian for two cruises but only paid him for one week. He stayed in a suite, above the waterline, with a balcony. He was cute and charming and one of the few comedians who was actually funny. He saw past her jumpsuit and the smudges on her face and sought her out belowdecks after her shift.
It was easy to say yes, especially when one of her roommates had hung a sock on the doorknob.
So, he'd be on the ship and gone, on the ship and gone. Easy to keep it light and fun. He'd bring her drinks and order room service—fucking filet mignon—but they couldn't go out together because of crew rules. And because of the hours she had to keep. And of all the guys—and gals—she'd slept with, he was one she could actually sleep with.
Until he met—her.
"You're shivering," said Abby, "Here, there's plenty," and she draped part of the blanket over Raven.
Raven startled. "Oh, ha, you're very kind, I couldn't poss—"
"Hush."
And they stayed there in the breeze until a squall started pelting them with raindrops.
"We should go in," said Raven, and she stood. Abby took the blanket they'd been sitting under and folded it precisely. Raven motioned for her to go upwind. She picked up the blanket they'd been sitting on and started shaking it just as the wind shifted and blew the sand right into their faces.
"Of fucking course," sputtered Raven, "Shit shit shit! Story of my life!" trying to brush the sand off Abby's face with a corner of the offending blanket, "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"
Abby carefully picked the sand out of the corners of her eyes. "Here, let me."
She took the blanket from Raven, flicked the corner to knock any remaining grit off, and brushed off both their faces.
"Stand clear," said Abby, and she repositioned herself upwind. Raven stood behind her. Abby held the blanket out at arms' length and shimmied it until most of the sand fell off. "Close your eyes and mouth," she warned. She shook the hell out of it.
Raven giggled, "you're good at that!"
"Mad skills," said Abby gravely, "from years of experience," the corners of her mouth unsure whether to turn up or down. She folded the blanket. "So many, many years."
Raven laughed out loud at that.
Abby stopped suddenly. "What?"
"Why are you acting like you're old?"
"Old enough to be your mother." Abby shrugged.
"Nope, I refuse to believe it. Besides, my mother's not allowed at the Sky View."
"So glad I'm not your mother."
"Me too."
They crossed back over the road.
"One day, I'll have a little footbridge over here," said Raven.
"I adore your ambition. You really are dauntless."
"Wouldn't go that far. But I do work for what I want."
"And what is that?" Abby's eyes crinkled.
"Bar's open til 2. Come in, have a drink." Raven tipped her head.
Abby hesitated.
"Or not. You've had a long day."
That's when the bottom dropped out of the clouds. In seconds, the downpour drenched them both. Abby squeezed her eyes shut. Her shoulders shook. She was— laughing?
Raven grabbed her free hand.
"Come on! It's a flood! Let's get to the Ark before it's too late!"
They ran all out, all the way back to the bar, laughing.
"Actually," said Abby, "I believe I will have a drink."
Abby changed and Raven laid a fire.
"You're soaked. Don't you want to change?"
Raven froze. Change? Into what? Dry clothes. Dry clothes. Not a bad idea.
Raven smiled a crooked smile and nodded. It would be smart to get the grit out of her brace anyway. She took a few moments to decide but ended up with a dry version of what she'd been wearing. Just so she didn't call attention to the new outfit. And anyway, she didn't have the shorts and Hawaiian shirt with a golden nameplate uniform of the Caribbean. Thankfully.
When Raven returned, Abby had the fire blazing. She turned to Raven proudly, talking to someone on the phone.
Raven nodded and began making another pair of drinks.
Abby raised one finger and stepped out of the room, her voice dropping to a rough whisper.
Raven caught herself trying to eavesdrop, then tried not to. She proceeded to shake the everloving hell out of that margarita, drowning out the escalating voice in the courtyard.
When Abby returned, Raven was just planting the pink umbrellas into the salted glasses.
"You missed my bartender show," said Raven.
Abby smiled, reaching for her glass.
"To the Sky View," she said.
Raven blushed. "To the Sky View."
They touched the rims of their glasses together and drank.
"Would you join me? In front of the fire I so handily lit?"
"That was supposed to be my job," scolded Raven. Then she found she couldn't stop herself from smiling.
They sat together in silence for a few moments, staring at the fire.
"Was Hospitality something you always wanted?" said Abby.
"Hmmmm…" demurred Raven, "more like Home. A place to be home and give others a home."
Abby smiled.
"Your profile said you worked on cruise ships for a decade."
"You looked!"
Abby blushed.
"Mechanic. I'm really good at it. Paid better than Hotel or Retail. It was all eyes on the prize."
"And this is the prize?"
"Haha, yes! Can't you tell?"
Abby sank back into the sofa. "Pretty impressive."
"Said the Doctor, who is considerably more impressive."
"Yes, I am a doctor, and I'm good at it, but my family encouraged me and supported me. And I always had a home."
"And your prize?"
Abby thought for a few moments.
"I guess— well, I guess I lost her… when I lost him."
"Wow. Is it time for another?"
"One more. But then I must sleep. Are you going to do your bartender show for me?"
"I lied. I don't have a bartender show."
"You could have," teased Abby.
"Not with this much tequila in me," grinned Raven.
She made the drinks, and they toasted again and drank.
"Who'd you lose?" said Raven.
Abby smiled weakly. "Who'd you lose?"
Raven sipped. "Never really had anyone to lose," she said.
Rain poured down onto the metal roof, drowning the silence between them. In a few moments, the squall passed.
"I think you're lying again."
"Mmmm…"
"When my husband died, and it was very sudden, I just retreated. I crawled into myself. We could have clung together, my daughter and I, but really I just abandoned her. And she ended up leaving."
"Just like a telenovela, huh?"
"Almost exactly."
"I had a boyfriend on the ship. For awhile. Then he fell for a pretty blonde."
Abby took Raven's hand.
"I have a very serious question for you," Abby said.
Raven's forehead creased. "Okay."
"If I were to help you," said Abby, "could we get another room ready? For my daughter?"