Island Hopping

Chapter 3

3

As I had suspected, my boss, Dave, freaks out over my impending time off, but I don’t leave him any other choice. I have saved his butt more times than I can count, so he owes me.

With true fear in his eyes, he asks, “What am I going to do without you?”

I know his question is sincere. I earned his trust not long after my arrival at the company as a temporary receptionist. He accidentally shared a naughty appointment from his calendar with the entire company. Rather than tell their boss about the faux pas, the employees snickered behind his back. I summoned all of my courage and emailed him about it. He immediately called me to his office. I thought for sure that I was going to be fired, but instead, he asked me to adjust the settings on his account to be private. He promoted me on the spot, and he has trusted me implicitly since that fateful day.

Inserting more confidence than I feel into my voice, I reassure him. “It will be fine. We have three Executive Assistants from the other C-level officers filling in during my absence. They can adeptly handle anything you throw their way.”

“But they aren’t you,” he pouts.

I’m touched that he feels so strongly about my value as an employee, but I am unwilling to back down. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Many people mistakenly think that you’re ‘just a secretary,’ but we both know that you’re the one who gets things done around here. You run this office. Three people aren’t enough to replace you.”

Tears sting my eyes at his high praise, but I refuse to allow them to fall. With a brisk “Goodbye,” I leave, before he can try to bribe me into staying. Ruthie needs me, and I intend to be there for her––even if she doesn’t want me.

“What in the ever-lovin’ hell of tarnation is she doing here?” Baggy asks the outraged question as soon as I join them in the airport’s waiting area. I’m still feeling giddy from getting to use my passport that I’ve had for ages, but hadn’t ever actually needed. Her words put a slight damper on my mood.

Ruthie looks like she has just been slapped as she bugs her eyes out in my direction. “I… I don’t know.”

Trying to look more confident than I feel, I smile and say, “I wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.”

Ruthie is shaking her head as if she can’t quite believe her eyes. “But you aren’t invited. You can’t come.”

She turns to look at her fiancé, parents, and finally Baggy for support. Evidently finding the reassurance she needs in her grandmother’s fired-up gaze, she turns to the older woman and says, “She can’t come.”

“Damn-tootin’ right, she can’t come.” Baggy weighs in. Turning her rheumy eyes towards me, she adds, “We don’t abide by traitors in our midst.”

It is Ruthie’s quiet father who sticks up for me. “Lizzie has been a part of this family for a long time. Isn’t it time we forgive her?”

I try to show him with my gaze and a half-smile how much I appreciate him siding with me.

“Forgive her?!?” Baggy sounds truly affronted by the mere idea of it. “We don’t do that.” She waves her bent pointer finger back and forth to accentuate her words.

Clasping her fiancé’s hand in a possessive manner, Ruthie glares at me. “She’s probably here to try to steal Andrew away from me and ruin our wedding day.”

“That could never happen,” Andrew leans in and reassures her before adding to the larger group, “Maybe we should give her the benefit of the doubt. It took a lot of courage for her to come here.”

We grew up in the same town, but I’ve only ever heard Andrew speak on television. I already like his calm, kind, and thoughtful demeanor. He seems to be the exact opposite of impulsive, flighty, and bubbly Ruthie. They must be a classic case of opposites attracting.

Striking while the tide of opinion seems to be shifting in my favor, I say, “I’m here to help. My guess is that there will be some snafus with the wedding planning and ceremony. I’ll be in the background to step in and assist in making sure things run smoothly.” As an afterthought, I add, “No matter what trials that crocodile producer tries to throw at us.”

I can see that my words have startled Ruthie. Turning to Andrew, she asks, “You don’t think T.J. would try to ruin our big day, do you?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Andrew weighs in.

Baggy has her eyes narrowed in my direction. Lifting her gnarled finger to point at me, she asks, “How do we know she isn’t a plant sent by him to ruin everything?”

Deciding I better address it directly, I reveal, “T.J. is the one who asked me to come.” Someone gulps in air at that news, so I quickly add, “But I am only here to help and be a part of Ruthie’s big day. I want it to go perfectly, and I won’t be a part of anything that risks marring her dream wedding day.”

I hope the sincerity of my words rings through in my tone. My gaze travels to each of them as I silently plead with them to let me join in the festivities to come.

Seeming to shift her opinion a tiny bit, Ruthie asks me, “Are you just here to try to become famous?”

I practically snort at that. “Umm, no. You can have the spotlight. I am planning to stay off-camera as much as possible.”

It seems like they are starting to waver in their steadfast hatred of me until Baggy squints at me and yells, “I ain’t buyin’ this bucket of hogwash! She’s up to something.”

“Mother, stop it.” Ruthie’s mom, Caroline, chastises her own mother.

The older woman glares at me, like a rebellious teenager who is sulking and plotting her revenge for a perceived wrongdoing. I’ve never before been on Baggy’s bad side, and I don’t like how it feels one bit. I will do anything in my power to get back in her good graces.

Caroline continues, ignoring Baggy’s pouting. “Lizzie made a mistake. She has admitted that and apologized for it. It’s time for us ALL,” she gives her mother a pointed look down her glasses before continuing, “to forgive her and move on.”

I’ve never been so grateful for anyone’s mercy in my entire life. If I thought Caroline wouldn’t stiffen up with discomfort, I would give the tall, generally-aloof woman a bear hug. Instead, I quietly whisper the words “Thank you” in her direction.

All eyes are on Ruthie, awaiting her decision. She doesn’t appear to want to forgive me, but her parents and Andrew obviously think she should.

“Fine,” she finally huffs. Turning, she glares eye darts at me before adding, “You can come, but if I see any funny business, you are out of there.”

“I’ll behave,” I promise, nodding and breathing a sigh of relief.

Evidently deciding to make the best of it, Baggy yells out, “Hot damn! Turks and Caicos, here we come!”

No one bothers to correct her that we are heading to Antigua.