Chapter 58: Unceremonious

The guests of honor – Nicky’s parents – were the last to arrive.

A special Master PC program was needed to allow them to initially turn a blind eye to the decadence that was running rampant on the cay. Then everything would change and it wouldn’t matter, but I wasn’t inclined to clue Nicky in until necessary.

“Why did we never see them at the dance studio?” Sara muttered under her breath as we watched them disembark unsteadily from the seaplane.

“I actually thought I remembered them there a time or two, but he was transferred and they agreed to let her live with Cassie until she graduated,” I said. “We all know how that turned out.”

“Did they disown her or something?” Sara asked, turning to look at me. She seemed surprised I knew all this. I knew a lot more than that.

“More like, she was too ashamed to face them,” I shrugged. “Once I convinced her that shouldn’t be the case, they had a nice reunion a while back.”

“Shhh. Here they are,” Sara said, waving her hands. A moment later, the pair of 60-somethings walked in with open arms.

“Lawrence! What a day! What a place!” boomed Nicholas Moore, a semi-retired FedEx executive now based in St. Louis. “I have never dreamed of such a place, being stuck in the Midwest all these years.”

“Please enjoy your time here,” I said with a slap on the back. At the same moment, his bride of 40 years, Suzanne, wrapped me in a hug that could have taken down a smaller man. I caught her and hugged her more or less at the same time. She only lingered long enough to plant a big, wet kiss on my cheek, leaving her lipstick imprint apparent.

“Thank you for saving my daughter from a life of lesbianism!” she actually managed to say in a happy way. “I never dreamed this day would come.”

“It’s kind of a miracle for me, too, Suzanne,” I said with a smile fixed on my face.

“Please ... call me mom!” she said, patting my chest with her hand.

“Thanks ... Suzanne,” I said, winking to take the sting out of my rebuff.

With the Moores safely in their room, resting from the trip, I had time to talk with Doc.

“This thing going to take a nice, traditional approach?” I asked. “I haven’t even met the preacher.”

“We’ve got a Justice of the Peace coming over from Antigua,” he said. “He has a wonderful accent and smile that tells me he’ll be down with pretty much anything – especially since we’re paying him five grand to see and say nothing.”

“At least he won’t be outbid,” I laughed. “Everyone here?”

Doc produced a printout with a series of bold check marks on it.

“Let’s see ... Althea has made ashore it with your lawyer as her date,” he chuckled. “That’s a scary coupling.”