The airport? The girls and Samson had come down for a few weeks every summer since I’d moved to Florida, but I’d assumed that wasn’t happening this year. The last time I’d seen them was the first week in March, when I’d come up for Samson’s funeral.
“Is your mom there?” I asked. Maybe it was a surprise. Or perhaps a spur-of-the-moment family vacation.
“Uh, no,” Mia said, sounding as if it were the dumbest thing she’d ever heard.
“Which airport?” I asked.
“The Palm Beach airport.”
“It’s the Palm BeachInternationalAirport,” Kitty said.
“Kitty, shut up.”
I ran over the conversations I’d had with Beth lately. She hadn’t said anything about the girls visiting this summer. And then our phone call from the day before came to mind.Are you ready? Do you need me to send anything?I’d thought she was talking about the end of charter season. But now, everything made sense. Beth and Mark were taking a break from the girls, not from each other. A small relief.
I tried to keep the panic from my voice. “How long are you down for?”
“All summer,” Mia said. “So Mom and Dad can work things out. Which means they’re definitely getting a divorce.”
Divorce?My relief deflated in an instant.
“They are not getting a divorce! Stop lying!” Kitty whined.
“Are you coming to get us or what? I’m starving,” Mia said.
Right. I looked out the window of the crew mess. We were in the middle of the ocean. No way Captain Xav would turn the boat around for a scheduling hiccup. “I’m sort of on the yacht right now. I don’t know how to get you.”
“Seriously, Jo?” Mia said. “Haven’t you ever heard of Uber? Just text me your card info.”
“I—”
“Do you have a key under the mat?”
“No, but Belva has a spare.”
“Well, can you call her and have her let us in?”
An image of the girls getting kidnapped by a seedy Uber driver came to mind. “Can minors even use Uber?”
Ollie, who’d wandered into the crew mess, gave me a confused look, but I waved him off.
“Minors with fake IDs can,” Mia said.
Oh God.“Listen, I’m going to send Belva to get you. She’ll let you into the condo. And I’ll text my card info so you can order some food,” I added, thinking of my bare kitchen cabinets. I’d need to “borrow” provisions from the boat—milk, cereal, and maybe a bag of chips to bring home.
“Ugh, fine,” Mia said, hanging up without so much as a goodbye.
I set my phone on the counter, staring at it until it vibrated again with another text from Mia.
Card info?
“Right.” I dug my wallet from my purse and snapped a photo of my credit card. Then I called Belva, who was more than happy to pick up the girls.
“What was that about?” Ollie asked when I’d finished talking to Belva, but thankfully Nina’s voice called for me over the radio.
“Go for Jo,” I radioed back.
“The guests are in the Sky Lounge and very inebriated. Can you head up here?”
