Page 63 of Escape to the Sun

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Heather releasedhis hand and stared at the incoming boat. She said they weren’t expecting anyone, but the way she shook her head and stared toward the boat told him different.

“What is it?”

She didn’t answer.

“Heather?”

“It can’t be.” Heather’s hand went to her mouth. She turned then to look at him and gone was the laughter in her face and the excitement he’d seen only moments before when he’d been so sure she was about to tell him exactly what he didn’t even realize he wanted to hear. But he did want to hear it and he wanted to tell her the same thing, too. But now…something was wrong.

“What?” He took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Who is it? What’s wrong, Heather? Talk to me.”

She shook her head again slowly but this time she answered him before she pulled out of his grip. “It’s my mother.”

“Your mother?”

Heather didn’t answer him because she was already walking, zombie-like, toward the dock.

Ash shook his head and followed Heather down the dock. Whatever was about to go down, he knew without a doubt he should be there.

Heather stood frozen on the dock as the boat pulled up alongside. He vaguely recognized the driver as a local from Bocas Town. “Hola, amigo.” Ash grabbed the line the driver handed him and tied up the boat before he had a chance to take a good look at the passenger.

She was an older version of Heather, with the same glossy dark hair and cute little nose. He couldn’t tell whether mother and daughter shared the same gorgeous eye color, because the woman wore oversized sunglasses. Despite that, it was easy to see there was a family resemblance. But that’s where the similarities ended. The older woman held herself bone straight in the front of the boat, as if she’d been positioned on a stick. It must have been incredibly hard to maintain that position for the long ride, but Ash had no doubt she had. Her mouth was set in a firm, straight line, with no indication of the smile Heather always wore, even when she’d first arrived to Casa del Sol.

“Mom. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” she snapped. “What do you think I’m doing here?”

Heather made no move to help her mother out of the boat and it was clear to Ash that the woman very much would like to get out. With a quick glance at Heather, he extended the woman a hand. “Welcome to Casa del Sol, Mrs.…”

“Weaver.” She looked at Ash’s hand with some level of disgust and, obviously deciding it was the lesser of two evils, took it and let him assist her from the boat and up to the dock, where she promptly dropped Ash’s hand.

Heather still didn’t say anything. The two of them didn’t embrace the way Ash would have expected a mother and daughter reunited to do. Instead, they stared at each other somewhat awkwardly. At least for him.

“Let me get your bags, Mrs. Weaver.” She dismissed him with a wave, so Ash took the large, totally inappropriate suitcases from the driver and when it was clear that he was going to be expected to also pay the man, he dug into the pocket of his shorts and handed over a few bills.

Even after the boat drove away, Heather still hadn’t said anything to her mother. By the looks of it, they were in some sort of stare down, a contest of wills. Regardless, the sun was hot, and Mrs. Weaver looked as though she might melt at any given moment. The last thing Ash needed to deal with on top of the drama that was already unfolding was a wilted woman with heat stroke.

“Why don’t we go inside and get a cold drink?” He ushered both the women in the direction of grande casa, and dragged the suitcases behind him, bringing up the rear. Once they were inside and out of the sun, Heather seemed to have snapped out of whatever trance she’d been in and was at least communicating and acting somewhat like a hostess.

“I just don’t understand why you’re here,” She handed her mother a glass of water with a sprig of fresh mint in it. It was a little touch she’d started adding to greet the B&B guests.

“You told me, and I quote, ‘It really is paradise here in every sense of the word. You have to see it to believe it.’”

Heather almost choked on her own glass of water. “I didn’t mean you should come.”

“But that’s what you said.” Mrs. Weaver picked the sprig of mint from her glass, looked at it with disgust and tossed it to the side. “Why is there a weed in my drink?”

Heather rolled her eyes and Ash decided it wasn’t worth saying anything. He sat back to watch the familial exchange with interest.

“I also said I was fine, Mom. And I am. You shouldn’t have come here.”

“Then why would you tell me to?”

“I didn’t.” Heather dropped her head to the table and Ash jumped in.

“Well, now you are here, Mrs. Weaver, and we’re certainly very glad to have you.”

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