Page 33 of Escape to the Sun

Before she could object, or challenge him on the fact that he didn’t quite answer her question, he gave her another quick kiss and left her to get ready.

He wasn’t going to be able to avoid her questioning forever and he hated to lie to her. Particularly at the beginning of their relationship, whatever that was. It didn’t matter what it was between them; he wasn’t going to keep lying to her. He may be a lot of things, but a liar was certainly not one of them. Which was why as soon as breakfast was finished, and Heather was busy with her guests, organizing a day of activities to keep them busy in the sun, Ash packed a basket of supplies and headed up the hill to Sherri’s treehouse.

He took his time going up the stairs, partly because he wasn’t in a hurry to see what was waiting for him at the top, and partly because he loved the journey. The rainforest was full of the most beautiful flowers and creatures. When he’d first moved to Panama, he’d barely noticed his surroundings, losing himself in booze and women and pretty much anything else that would dull the ache inside him. It had worked for a little while, but then he’d met Mick at the Bitter End and shortly after, he’d introduced him to Sherri. It was only after that meeting, when he first came to Casa del Sol, that Ash finally started noticing his surroundings. Really noticing them.

And they were incredible. The colors, the scents, everything. He almost couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed the beauty of Panama before.

Almost.

He’d been way too closed off to notice anything besides his own misery. Almost as if he’d been in a long sleep. But that was a long time ago. He hadn’t been that guy for a while. The guy who moved through the days in a fog, unable or unwilling to open his eyes to the life that was happening to him.

But he was no longer that guy.

His eyes were wide open now.

And he planned to keep it that way.

Before he took the final flight of steps to Sherri’s house, Ash turned and looked out at the bay below. The water always looked especially peaceful from up here. A ring of laughter rang out and soon, the forms of two women on a paddleboard came into view. Heather hadn’t wasted any time getting the guests situated with the water toys. He watched for a moment, wondering why both the friends were on one board. Sherri had two paddleboards for the guests to use. His answer came in form of the new guests. A couple who were backpacking through Central America. They were only spending a few days with them, but it looked as if they didn’t want to waste a minute of it. They paddled into Ash’s view, looking much more graceful than the two women who’d come before them. They were still laughing and clearly having balancing issues while the other couple paddled peacefully around the bay.

Their peace only lasted a moment before one of the ladies jumped from their board, swam over and knocked the couple into the water. Ash shook his head and laughed. It looked like fun. No doubt Heather was on the dock, laughing at them all.

Just like Sherri would have.

Remembering why he was headed up the hill in the first place, Ash took the last few steps two at a time until he was outside Sherri’s little house. He knocked once and entered.

“Sherri?”

He kept his voice low at first, but called out again when she didn’t answer. “Sherri, I hope I didn’t wake you.” He kept his voice calm, trying to infuse some of that same calmness into himself. He had no idea what to expect, and the unknown was never a good thing. “Sherri? You okay?”

The house wasn’t very large, consisting mostly of one big open room with a few comfy chairs and pillows scattered around, and a cooking area tucked into one corner. There was a bathroom with a compostable toilet out the back, and just like the buildings down by the ocean, the water was supplied from a large cistern full of rainwater. The main room was empty, although it definitely showed signs of life from the last time he’d been there, dropping off crates. The large windows were open, letting the crosswinds blow through the space, and there were little pots with different plants scattered around the room.

Signs of life. But no Sherri.

Ash crossed the space to the ladder on the far wall that led to the sleeping loft. If Sherri was sleeping, he didn’t want to wake her. But if she wasn’t sleeping…he didn’t want to think about it.

“Sherri?”

Still no answer. There was no other choice. He shook his head and took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t be up here on your own, Sherri. Not with all the medicine and no one to help you. And this loft is even stupider.” She could be up there, unable to move, stuck in her bed. With his hands on the ladder, he climbed up slowly, muttering the entire way. “So help me, if I have to carry you down this ladder, I’m going to—”

“Ash?”

He started, and only nearly caught himself before sliding backward off the ladder. Ash took a moment to compose himself before he turned around to see Sherri, looking quite healthy and in no way incapacitated in her bed, standing behind him. “Sherri.”

“As I live and breathe.”

“Funny.” He shook his head and climbed off the ladder. “How are you?” He wrapped her in a hug and tried not to notice that she looked a little bit smaller than the last time he’d seen her. Or at least he thought she did. Maybe it was just his imagination. He hoped it was. “Seriously. How are you?”

She didn’t look sick. Her house didn’t look like the house of a sick person. It was sunny and airy and everything it should be. But then he took a closer look. There were pill bottles lined up on the counter, the IV pole shoved in a corner, a bandage on the inside of Sherri’s arm. “Are you taking care of yourself?”

She smiled and patted his arm. “Ash, I’m fine.” She moved slower than he remembered as she crossed the floor to the fridge. But then again, maybe it was all in his head. “Now tell me, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

He followed her across the room and took the bottle of juice from her hands so he could pour it for her. “Sit,” he ordered. “I’ll get us a drink.”

To his surprise, she didn’t protest, but did as she was told, sitting in a large wicker chair that looked out into the jungle. “But only juice for me,” she said. “You better have a beer.”

“It’s not even noon.”

She laughed. “Suit yourself then, but it’s special juice.” She held her hands up in air quotes and shook her head.

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