That comment hit Kenny like a ton of bricks. She nearly fell off her stool when she reactively jerked her knee and her right sneaker got caught behind the low rail that was attached to the bar where most people rest their feet.
“Oh my God! Are you okay?” Hailey squealed.
“I’m fine,” Kenny quickly recovered, trying to not draw attention to herself. “Clumsy me! I thought I felt a bug on my leg,” she lied. “The other day I saw a palmetto bug on the pool deck,” she lied again, “and I’ve been jittery since! In New York we call those ugly insects cockroaches!”
“Oh yuck! Thanks for the warning. Mr. Cunningham is letting a few of us employees stay at Pelican Pointe this weekend, so I’ll be on the lookout,” Hailey said while she furiously pounded at her phone.
Kenny was impressed by the speed at which Hailey fired off text messages. She knew Hailey was a rapid responder but couldn’t believe her fingers could keep up with the thoughts that swirled through her head. Kenny found it difficult to determine which smiley face emoji was appropriate to attach to certain messages; so, she admired Hailey’s effortless approach to scrolling through the keyboard of emojis to construct meaningful phrases.
“Guess what!” Hailey dropped her phone and popped her eyes back to Kenny. “Myboyfriendgot out of work early!My boyfriend!That has a nice ring, doesn’t it?” she giggled. “Mr. Cunningham is hosting an Employee Appreciation Weekend, that’s why I’m down here. The last few days have been filled with unexpected perks!”
Some are getting bigger perks than others, Kenny thought.
“He’s on his way over for a drink. I’d love for you to meet him! And I told him to bring his boss. I think you two would hit it off,” Hailey winked and lightly tapped Kenny on the knee.
Abort! Abort!
Kenny could feel her airwaves constricting. Her head felt like Marilyn’s metaphorical clock, the spiral springs were about to snap and shoot all over the Sea Pines Beach Club. The Wheel of Emotion spun in chaotic motion in her brain. She felt like she was on the Tilt-a-Whirl at an amusement park and the ride didn’t stop long enough for her to get off.
Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold two, three, four. Out two, three, four. Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold two, three, four. Out two, three, four.
Kenny was angry. She was angry at J.P. for leading her on. She was angry at Hailey for being the type of girl that J.P wanted. She was doubly angry at Hailey for suggesting she would “hit it off” with J.P.’s boss. Kenny didn’t care how wealthy or generous Mr. Cunningham was, she would never consider a man who was old enough to be her grandfather. But Kenny was mostly angry at herself, for letting her guard down.
“Wow, um, yea. That would be nice. But speaking of work, I forgot I have a deadline to meet. Tonight. I need to compile research for one of my correspondents,” Kenny tried to cobble together a plausible excuse. “I can’t believe I forgot. I meant to do it this morning but got distracted. I wish I could stay!” she lied one final time.
Kenny fumbled in her purse in search of a twenty-dollar bill while she calculated in her head how long it would take J.P. to travel from the golf course to the beach club. She scanned the entrances and tried to guess which would be theleastlikely path he would take. Suddenly she heard dogs barking everywhere. They could have been there the whole time and Kenny didn’t notice them, but she convinced herself otherwise. She was certain the last bark she heard was Cliff who picked up her scent and was sniffing her out.
Kenny popped up, threw her cash on the bar, and fixed her eyes on a narrow, nondescript ramp on the side of the building that looked like it was designated for restaurant employees.
“It was great to meet you, Hailey! Thank you for all your help while I’ve been down here,” Kenny cautiously hugged her new “friend” and sprinted for the ramp.
Kenny made a clean escape out the service exit, through the parking lot and to the path that lined North Sea Pines Drive. She walked about five hundred feet and made a left into a hidden development so that she was no longer visible by cars, pedestrians, or bikers who were traversing the main road. She wandered along Beach Lagoon Road and when she came to the end of the stretch ambled down a long, wooden pathway between two homes, up and over the dunes, and found herself back on the beach.
It had been a weird day. Since overhearing pieces of J.P. and Hailey’s conversation that morning, Kenny felt like every hour played out like a slow-motion film. Unlike the day that sparked her hiatus of life, when her world instantly popped like someone poked a balloon with a pin, today’s unraveling was a slow leak. She felt like a beach ball that was deflated a little more with each disappointing detail she learned.
The easy conversation, the “bump-ins” around the island, the butterflies, the dinner at Charlie’s.
Those were supposed to be Kenny’s things. TheywereKenny’s things until she woke up that morning. Unfortunately, this time Kenny wasn’t waking up from a dream that was never real. This time she woke up to a reality that wasn’t genuine or true.
The entire length of the beach on Sea Pines was only five miles long but by the time she left the shore and made her way back to Pelican Pointe, she felt like she had walked at least double that. The sand was flat and still compact from the heavy rains, so the walk wasn’t overly exerting, but Kenny felt physically tired. She kicked off her sandals and sat down on the pool steps to check-in with Colby, who had texted and called numerous times since her initial S.O.S.
Text to Colby:The plot thickened. My new friend IS J.P.’s girl. Don’t wanna talk now but I’m coming home early. I’d like to catch a flight before Wed. night.
Text from Colby:What?!?! What a pair of skanks!
Text to Colby: I completely misjudged him, really missed the mark. Verdict is still out on her.
Text from Colby: Let me know what you need. LYMIB!
Kenny watched tiny drops of water, increasing in size and frequency, fall to her screen as she scrolled through various sites looking for flights from Hilton Head back to New York. When her vision became blurry and she noticed the droplets weren’t splashing anywhere else, she realized it wasn’t raining. The water was tears flowing from her face. She picked up her shoes and went back to the villa. It was only a matter of time before the other guests returned to their temporary homes at Pelican Pointe.
Direct flights between Hilton Head and New York were practically nonexistent and the few seats Kenny found were astronomical in price. After ruling out a trip home sans layover, Kenny’s options were to choose between an extra-long stop in Washington D.C. or a reasonably short ground break in Charlotte. After too many horror stories of cancelled, delayed, and diverted flights over the course of her traveling career, Kenny always opted for a layover at the airport that was in closest proximity to her destination. Flying failures led her to rental cars and subsequent solo road trips back to Manhattan from Raleigh, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, and Ottawa. While she didn’t usually mind being behind the wheel, any driving portion of this return trip didn’t sound nearly as appealing as the joyride down. It sounded unbearable. At least if she got stuck in the nation’s capital for any unforeseen reason, she could fall back on Amtrack.
Forty
Kenny’s flight was a little before noon and she wasn’t expected to touch down at JFK until after 9:00 p.m. Being that it was Wednesday, date night at Charlie’s, she didn’t mind wasting the day in airport terminals eating comfort junk food and being largely unreachable due to poor or temperamental cell service.
Kenny’s Uber driver pulled up to a sign labeled “Drop Off” on Hilton Head Island Airport Terminal Drive and discarded the bags Kenny didn’t ship back via UPS on the curb. The usual painstaking process of checking luggage and passing through the security line took less than seven minutes; and that included Kenny being pulled out of line and patted down by a TSA agent because the underwire of her bra set off a metal detector. She was a full two hours early to the quaint, glorified helipad that looked more like the lobby of a boutique hotel, with its white wooden rocking chairs and vending machines, than the busy and headache-inducing airports Kenny was accustomed to running through.
