She joins me at the table in the eat-in kitchen. The bay window to my left showcases the sunrise over the ocean.
“Thirty years of waking up to that view, and I’ve yet to tire of it.”
“Pictures don’t do it justice.” I’d looked up the island online, searched the images. Good photography isn’t a replacement for the real thing. Tomorrow morning, I plan to be out there when the sun first peeks over the horizon. For now, I need to be here talking to Lausanne and learning more about the Royce family before they arrive.
“Paisley told me her parents have a tumultuous relationship.”
Lausanne laughs softly. “That is one way to put it. My daughter spent a few years wanting to kick her ex-husband out of her life for good, but calmed down when she saw how much it was hurting her children. Paisley, especially.” Lausanne looks at me with concern, as if perhaps she’s said too much. I nod knowingly, to mollify her. I knew most of that already, though learning it hurt Paisley the most is a new detail. I stymie the desire to probe, to ask why Paisley more than her siblings. It feels like something Paisley should tell me, not Lausanne.
We talk about my job as a bartender, and the book.
Lausanne is warm and funny, and reminds me of my mom. She has an ease about her, and I’m immediately comfortable in her home, and in conversation with her.
Paisley creeps into the kitchen, eyes squinting.
“There’s my bright-eyed, bushy-tailed granddaughter,” Lausanne teases.
Paisley grunts. She fixes her coffee, coming our way with the cup nestled between cupped hands.
I rise, pulling out the seat beside mine and guiding her into it. “Good morning, Ace,” I say, keeping my tone light as I press a soft kiss to her temple. It’s what a boyfriend would do, or at least, it’s whatIwould do if I were her boyfriend.
She leans into me, my touch, pushing back against my lips with her head.
“Ace?” Lausanne asks, bending a leg and tucking it beneath her. “How cute is that? I need the background on that nickname.”
Paisley looks to me to answer. She sips her coffee, and it’s as if I can see the cobwebs begin to clear. I hold her gaze. Her eyes widen, a realization creeping into them. Is she remembering how I made my way into her bed during the night? Maybe she’s thinking about the wayshemade her way intome.
“Well,” I answer, my eyes on Paisley and her messy ponytail, her rumpled pajamas. “Paisley strikes me as a capable person. You should see the way she walks down the hall at P Squared Marketing. She strides confidently, like she knows she’s the boss. She’s the best. Skilled. An ace.”
A delicate shade of pink blooms on Paisley’s cheeks. “He’s overselling me,” she assures her grandma, lifting her coffee to her lips.
“I doubt that,” Lausanne responds.
Tracing her pink cheek with my fingertip, I say, “Just be happy I chose ace instead of virtuoso. Or champion.”
Paisley’s shoulders bob as she laughs at the same time she swallows her coffee. Coughing, she says, “Ace is preferable.”
My finger travels another inch, gathering a shorter piece of hair that has fallen from her ponytail and tucking it behind her ear. “Ace,” I nod with finality.
Her lips part slightly, inviting me in, then she suddenly breaks the connection of our gaze, asking her grandmother, “What time does everybody arrive today?”
“Eleven. Your mom is planning to make her favorite soup for lunch. I’ll make a salad.”
Paisley nods. “Good. There will be enough time for me to take Klein on a bike ride.”
“Old Baldy?”
My mom, if she were here, would make a joke about calling someone out for being advanced in age and also lacking hair.
I’m guessing Old Baldy is the name of something, a place maybe, and Paisley says, “Later in the week. Today I want to help Klein get a lay of the land. And take him to Nauti Bowls.”
“Nauti Bowls?” I ask.
Paisley answers. “Smoothie bowls. Açai bowls. Coffee. Baked goods.”
I leave Paisley to finish her coffee while I get ready. We trade places, with her getting ready and me checking the bike tires. They are flat, but have no fear, I also spotted a bike pump near the air mattress in the shed.
The bikes are a matching pair of beach cruisers, onecarnation pink, and the other mint green. Fastened to the pink bike is a white basket, with colorful lights wound through the spokes.
