Becca’s been with my mom for almost eighteen months, and yeah, she was… rough. Constantly acting out and getting in trouble. Mom doesn’t punish in the usual grounding and taking away of shit. She hugs and assures you that she still loves you. You’re not a bad person just because you made a bad decision or a mistake.
I have no doubt that she’s slowly breaking down Becca’s walls. When you feel unloved for so long, I’m guessing that suddenly having someone there who loves you without question or dependent on your behavior is overwhelming. I think I’d be even more afraid of losing it. Leaving before I get used to feeling that love feels like the action I’d go with, too.
“Good. Have her call me after school tomorrow. I haven’t talked to her in weeks.”
“She’ll like that. Thank you.”
“I’ve always wanted a sister.” I keep in touch with the two boys my mom took in, too. Jordan and Kyle. One is twenty-one, and the other is nineteen and in college. Both call my mom ‘Mom,’ and I love that she was able to bring them to eighteen in a happy, healthy, and loving home. A home that they still come back to all the time. I bet seeing that helps Becca, too.
“I know. Okay, baby, I’m beat. Talk soon. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mama. Sweet dreams.”
“You too, baby.”
Okay, I don’t need to think about this. First, I’m going to head to Anapos and see what I can do to find out where Larson is today. After I’ve somehow gotten him alone and ‘shot my shot,’ as Mom said, I’m going to find a few little trinkets to send to Becca to let her know I’m thinking about her. Maybe a hockey puck. Will she know what that is?
The idea makes me laugh.
Every guest island has an office where you can sign up for excursions, but the office on Anapos is the primary one. The headquarters, if you will. It’s also the office where Calvin works. He’s my neighbor and wingman when we head to the bar for a good time.
I’m truly testing our friendship today, though.
I wave at the familiar faces when I step into the office and weave my way around the different stations until I’m standing in front of Calvin’s door. He looks up with a smile. “Hey. Come in.”
Smiling, I shut the door behind me.
“Uh-oh. What’s that look?” he asks, frowning.
“I’m about to ask you to break the rules for me,” I say. “I swear to you, I’ll never ask again outside of concerning this one person.”
He sighs. “What do you need?”
“Access to your computer with you logged into the booking system for like, five minutes. Seven tops.”
Calvin looks at me shrewdly. I appreciate that he doesn’t ask questions. He gets to his feet and gestures to his chair.
I’ve used the system a couple times. It’s pretty cool. One is used for the entire chain to book excursions, appointments,and whatever, and then that one feeds everything into different branches of the same system that others have access to.
Places like my studio have a minimal look when someone checks in. We see their first name and their appointment with us. Otherwise, we can message the person through the system, and it emails their invisible email address, which they can only check at the tech huts. There’s a button for a more urgent message that’s sent to someone somewhere, and they’ll track down the person to relay it if needed.
There are other features too. Like we’re able to report them to the management if they’re unsafe or we see something at our place of work. That kind of thing.
Otherwise, it’s still all about anonymity. Even from appointments like my studio. Which is why I need access that Calvin has.
I type his name in—Larson Faulkner III. A profile shows up, and yep, that’s his face. All kinds of identifying information, including home address, phone number/s, email, emergency contact, allergies, etc., fill the screen, but I bypass it all. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to do that kind of snooping.
I tap the tab that brings me to the excursions and appointments he’s booked. Boat tour at eleven. There’s a little blue square with Tomy’s name in it, telling me that the tickets were bought together and linked. There’s also the option that says he’s bought multiple tickets, but the extras aren’t linked to other accounts. That’s how you’re able to keep anonymity and still take someone out on Kala.
“Boat,” I murmur. He doesn’t have anything else scheduled for the day, so I glance at the time. I have an hour to get to the docks and see if they have space on that same tour.
Tomorrow has a couple things scheduled, and I take a minute to try to commit them to memory.
The only other thing I check on is his checkout date. How long do I have to make this man mine? January 4. Fuck, that’s soon.
I close out of Larson’s profile and get to his feet. “Thanks,” I tell Calvin. “I swear to you, I’ll never ask about anyone else but this one guy.”
He gives me a demure look as he retakes his seat. “Want me to add you to his boat tour?”
