Ch 2 Straight on til Monday
"Come again?" asked Raven.
Abby smiled. "Come on," she said, "it'll be fun."
Raven tipped her head to one side and put on an attitude.
"What experience do you have? Like with construction?"
"Many, many years ago, when I was in college, I could pay tuition for the year on a summer's work. Which I did. In construction. So... four years. Four summers. So like a year. Many, many years ago. Also a month with Habitat for Humanity, so."
"Again with the many many," said Raven.
"Well," said Abby, "what do you think?"
"This is for the daughter you lost?"
Abby nodded.
Raven raised her eyebrows. "Curiouser and curiouser," she said. "Why here? Why now?"
"Mmmm..."
"Abby."
"It's nearly midnight. We want to get an early start tomorrow, right? She'll be here Friday." Abby stood up from the couch and stayed there feeling the alcohol for a moment, just to prepare to go up those stairs. Raven did not water her tequila. And those adorable steel spiral stairs were just a wee bit steep. But there was no way Abby was going to let those adorable stairs—
Raven couldn't stifle a giggle.
"Are you laughing at me?"
"I am laughing... with you." And Raven giggled again.
"You stand up. Just see how you're doing."
"Oh, no. I'm waiting 'til you go. I have to watch you go up those stairs." And then Raven heard her own words. She brought a hand to her mouth.
Now Abby snorted. It looked good on her. Great, even. "And now for the floor show."
"Stay off the floor, please. I'm understaffed."
"Good night, Raven."
"Good night, Doctor."
Abby managed the stairs far better than she had anticipated. She pulled the chain to start the ceiling fan. She dressed for bed and sat on it.
Why here? Why now? Why had Clarke called her out of the blue? Months she'd been gone, on her own, doing who knows what, with the money Jake had left her.
"Mom," she'd said, and just let it hang there. And Abby couldn't help herself. She'd scolded her for staying away. Probably driving her away again.
"Mom," she'd said again, "it's time. I really—" she'd said, "I really miss you and— where are you?"
"Mexico?" Abby had responded, "I wanted to mark the anniversary, I guess— Where are you?"
"At the house," she'd said. "I miss him so much. And you. And you're not here."
"I'm in Cozumel. It's gorgeous."
"The ashes are missing."
"I have them."
"Don't you dare. Not without me."
And that was that. Clarke was coming in four days.
Four days to put in the floor, finish out the bath, paint, add furniture. What else? What had Abby been thinking?
Of herself, probably. Jake, maybe. Raven? And if Clarke needed her, she'd do what had to be done.
There was a knock at the door.
"Abby? You okay?"
Abby opened the door. "Yes, of course, why?"
"Just— drink some water?" Raven handed her a large, cold bottle.
Abby's eyes crinkled, bringing color to Raven's cheeks. "I will, thank you."
Raven shifted from foot to foot. "Were you serious?"
"Yes, of course I was serious. I'm a doctor. Serious as a heart attack."
"This was supposed to be a vacation, though."
"Raven," Abby said, laying a hand on her shoulder, "it's just my daughter. As far as I know, she's been going from youth hostel to youth hostel for nearly a year. Working together, we can get it at least to that state in four days."
"Nobody is ever 'just' a daughter. You can't snow me."
Abby looked away, and before she took her hand away, Raven clapped hers over it.
"Well, bright and early, yeah?" Raven squeezed and released Abby's hand.
"Good night, Raven."
"Good night."
Abby closed the door and leaned on it for a moment. She opened the water bottle and took a long drink. The room was warm. It wasn't just her. But suddenly sweat swamped her eyebrows and coursed down her cheeks. It stung her eyes, which, she noticed, were weeping. How I miss him. And even though that grief, that awful stake in her heart, even though it remained and ached, even so, this was the first day in hundreds she had genuinely laughed.
She had genuinely wanted to do something, outside her job, something for somebody else, somebody she didn't even know, a stranger.
She drained the bottle. And took a couple aspirin, just in case. She towelled off the sweat and lay on top of the covers. How did night sweats even know it was night? She got a fresh towel and lay on top of it. Breeze blew through the open windows, and the sound of the sea washed over her until she slept.
"Wake up," said Jake, "Wake up, Doctor Griffin."
Abby blinked her way awake. His eyes made her smile. "We should get married," he said. "We should get married today."
"Jake, we already got married. We had a kid. We had careers. Now she's grown, and you're dead," said Abby.
"Yeah, I know," he said. "Dumb joke, huh?"
"Bonehead move," she said, "Dying. We could have been here together."
"Ah, but we are." He smiled a wicked smile. "And anyway, we were always too busy."
Morning brought early light, a light chill, and coffee.
"It's not the crap they sell tourists," said Raven, "Cream? Sugar?"
"Black," said Abby.
"Of course," said Raven. "There are pastries downstairs, when you're ready." And she left.
The night's clouds had blown over, leaving a clear blue sky. Abby showered briefly and dressed. She headed downstairs, noting that going down seemed more iffy than going up had.
"I can make eggs to order, if you'd like," said Raven.
"Uh no," said Abby, "maybe just some toast?"
"No problem. Did you sleep okay? How's your head?"
"I'm fine, fine."
And they ate in genial silence, seagulls' cries and surf filling the space between them. Abby filled her lungs with salty air, which cleared her head better even than the coffee. And then she zeroed in on Raven. Today they would work together. Abby's ears warmed. And Raven caught her staring— but her face was soft.
Abby broke the stare and finished and stood and gathered her plate and Raven's. "Ready?" she said.
"You're not."
"What?"
"Look," said Raven, "I may be a small-time do-it-yourselfer, but you can't work on my building in that. You have to at least have long pants and closed-toe shoes."
Who brings pants and shoes to the Caribbean? Abby blinked.
"You can borrow some, if you want."
Abby smiled softly. "Okay."
So Raven ducked out for a minute or two and brought jeans and a light button-down and boots. When Abby got them on, she caught sight of herself in her mirror and raised her eyebrows. Not bad. Not bad at all. The clothes fit almost as if they were her own. But they smelled different, nice.
But anyway.
The ride to the hardware store in the open-air Rover did unspeakable things to Abby's hair, things she couldn't undo with her bare hands.
"Give me a hand?"
Raven reached into her back pocket. "How about a comb?"
"Room 210 is not going to finish itself," Abby cracked, taking the comb anyway. She fixed her hair and braided it. She looked up to find Raven extending her hand toward her. Pinched between Raven's fingers was a hair elastic. Raven smiled a crooked smile.
"You must be the girl with everything."
"Be Prepared, that's my motto."
"Are you sure it's not Hakuna Matata?" said Abby, and off they drove.
Painting was easy. Thankfully, Raven had already finished the horrible parts, the electrical and plumbing rough-in, the walls and the ceiling. Painting Abby could do, the precision, the touch, the smell created an almost meditative environment for her. Visually, she focused in on the painting itself, but her awareness expanded, little by little. She took in the sounds of the birds, the sounds of the air, the sounds of the water. Traffic. She could perceive Raven's breath, her frustrations and pleasure as she herself sank into the process.
"Can you reach the—" Raven began, but Abby had already handed her the cleanup rag she was about to ask for.
They had started on opposite sides of the room, heading toward each other. Abby stepped back to check her work at the same time Raven did, but they didn't collide. They stood back to back, less than an inch apart.
"It's getting hot," said Abby.
"Yeah, it does that. We can knock off for a couple hours. Most people do."
They looked at each other and nodded. They wrapped the rollers in plastic and wiped up the drips.
Abby climbed down the ladder first and went to wash up. When Raven joined her in the lounge, Abby held out a cold bottle of water. Raven reached for the bottle, but Abby forgot, for a moment, to let go. Their eyes met. Abby realized what she was doing and rolled her eyes, releasing the bottle. They sat on the couch facing the fireplace.
"I never know anymore," murmured Abby, "if it's me that's hot or everywhere."
"Both," said Raven, "both."
Raven's eyes closed. Abby found herself appreciating Raven's eyebrows. Then she closed her eyes, too.
Midday heat rose up in the lounge, despite the fan, despite the open windows. The breeze dropped to nothing and the humidity became dense, almost solid. Abby opened her eyes to find Raven, boots off, curled up on the couch, her socks almost touching Abby's leg. She drained the rest of her water, then removed her boots. Even though the sweat puddled in her bra, even though the heat weighed heavy on her hair, her lungs opened up. She breathed it all in. She put her feet up alongside Raven. And her eyes drifted shut again.
"Abby," he said, "Wake up, Honey." She gazed into Jake's eyes. He touched her cheek. He kissed her, then he was gone.
A cooler smell awakened Abby, not long after. The light had changed. Clouds hung overhead, and the breeze had picked up. She lay there a few moments, assessing the creakiness in her joints from napping on the couch. Trying not to disturb Raven, she moved her legs off the couch, but Raven took a waking breath and opened her eyes.
"It's gonna rain. Smell it?"
"We should finish up, then," said Abby.
"Floors tomorrow. Fixtures the next day," said Raven, "I have some friends coming in on a ship. Lincoln and Octavia. They're adorable and awesome. And freakishly strong. You'll like them."
Abby laced her boots up. There wasn't much painting left, one wall, a closet, and the bath. Rain cooled and cleaned the air as they worked. It sprinkled, then it poured, then it spat, until it blew over. They finished in a couple hours.
"I'm beat. You must be beat," said Abby. "Can I take you to dinner?"
Raven considered. "I know a place," she mused.
Raven drove them a little way down the beach road, then surprised Abby by turning inland.
"It's a family place," she said.
They drove across the commercial district and deep into a residential area. The road narrowed, and someone had heaped gravel across the sidewalk. Single story houses, once brightly colored, lined the street. In the middle of the block, a bright orange building with a white sculpture in front caught Abby's eye. Raven stopped in front.
"This is it. Best seafood on the island."
Inside, most of the orange formica dinette sets were filled— with locals and tourists alike. The furnishings reminded Abby of her mother's kitchen— when she was about five.
"Hey, Ray," said Raven to the proprietor.
"Hey, Rae!" he said back and wrapped his arms around her.
"This is my friend, Abby."
"Pleased to meet you, Abby."
He showed them to their table and gave them menus.
"I recommend the camarones, any kind, or the tortas— they're only on the Spanish side of the menu," said Raven, "The grouper is good, too."
Ray returned, with margaritas. "On the house, ladies," he said.
Abby raised her glass to him, and then to Raven. She sipped. It was heaven.
Raven watched for a moment, smiling at her pleasure, "I know, right? Wait til you taste the food."
Abby went silent as she sampled the guacamole, the mole, the shrimp on a wire. Raven gave her a bite of her torta. Fresh, clean, familial smells and flavors filled her up, and she found her eyes inexplicably full.
"You okay?" said Raven.
"Yes, I am okay. More okay than I've been in a long time. Thank you."
Homemade churros and licorice-flavored tequila capped the meal. These were not county fair churros. They had a delicate sweet cinnamon flavor and a texture like popovers or crullers, soft and moist and light. She closed her eyes.
"I know," said Raven.
Abby opened her eyes and sipped.
"I thought I didn't like licorice, but this—" A light fizzy feeling started at the tip of her nose and traveled up to the top of her head.
They drove back to the beach and parked. A few clouds drifted about the moon.
"Feel like taking a walk?"
Abby nodded. "It's pretty quiet, away from the ships."
"Yeah," said Raven, "here, you get both."
"I live close to the water, but I never get time to just— be there."
"I know what you mean," said Raven. "I haven't had an excuse to just come to the beach in months. Even when my friends are in port."
"There's always work to be done."
"Always."
"Hang on a second," Abby said, using Raven's shoulder for balance. She slipped off her sandals. "I just need to feel the wet— I mean the sand."
They walked a little closer to the edge of the water, where the sand could squish between her toes. Raven took off her shoes, too. Then they went far enough that the water washed over their feet. Moonlight rippled across the water. Breeze ruffled Abby's hair. She took it in. She took it all in. How I've missed you, Jake. And I almost didn't know it.
The breeze, the water, the sand. The saltair. She looked up. Raven, illuminated in moonlight.
"Exquisite," Abby breathed, aloud. Maybe Raven didn't hear.
Maybe she did.