Chapter 49: MVP

I headed over to the dining area for whatever meal it was; time had lost all meaning between jet lag and round-the-clock sex. To my surprise, Bud was attacking a stack of pancakes that resembled the Sears Tower.

“Looks like you’ve sobered up,” I said, sitting down and enjoying the whiff of maple syrup.

“I was trying to drink away the pain,” he said with a mouthful. “But it turns out the only thing that could make it go away was the love of a good woman. Good thing one came along on the trip.”

“You’re talking about Sara, I hope,” I said hopefully. “Are you two on the same page again?”

“Don’t know about the same page, but we definitely fit in the same bed,” he grinned a pancake grin.

But it occurred to me that Sara had been with me, with us, most of the night. So what could have happened with... ?

“Son of a bitch,” I grinned. The con was on.

“What?” Bud stopped in mid-shovel.

“I just decided I wanted some pancakes, too,” I said. What I was thinking was, Damn. Audrey is the MVP of this trip.

“Good pancakes,” Bud said, stuffing his mouth full again.

The pancakes were grilled up in short order by yet another topless blonde staffer, and I don’t recall ever tasting a better batch. The syrup, warmed to just this side of hot, was a perfect complement.

“What on earth did you make these pancakes with?” I asked the blonde, who I gathered used to be a 48-year-old Sicilian chef.

“They’re something, eh?” she said, almost sounding like a middle-aged Sicilian. “We use a little something you Americans like to call ‘pot, ‘ I believe.”

“No shit,” I laughed and Bud grinned, having asked the same question earlier. “Got to take that recipe home with us.”

“That’s not happening,” she said, still smiling, “unless you buy the cay.”

“Is it for sale?” I asked, more surprised than curious.

“Ya. A cool 24 million American and it’s yours,” she said as she pushed the rolling stove away.

“We seen Doc lately?” I asked Bud, who had sat back with a full belly. “For that matter, I’ve haven’t seen Chuck or Darren since I banged my head.”

“To be honest, I’m not sure Chuck is still on the island,” Bud admitted. “The seaplane has been gone since this morning. I didn’t see who left.”

“Doc’s still here, right?” I asked a little too loudly. Shit, somebody was the puppet master on this trip.

“I’m coming. I’m coming,” his voice came from up the trail.

“You can say that again,” said a very blonde-sounding voice. A moment later, Doc appeared, wearing only some beach sandals, a seashell necklace and a shit-eating grin. The latter was probably because he had a pint-size blonde under each arm.

“So, you done?” Doc asked.

“I don’t know whether or not to hug you or hit you in the face,” I said. He sat the blondes down and joined me in a heartfelt embrace, then I rared back and belted him square on the jaw. He fell back over the railing into the sand, out cold.

“Shit. Why’d you do that?” Bud said, still comfy in his chair.

“He messed with Stacy,” I said. “Nobody messes with my daughter.”

“Except you, you mean,” Bud said. “No offense.”

I climbed over the railing and landed in the sand next to where Doc, quickly regaining consciousness, lay with a wary look on his face. I extended my hand to him.

“Thanks for a memorable weekend,” I said as he slowly took my hand and let me pull him to his feet.

“You done?” Doc asked.

“I’m done,” I said. “Let’s get the hell off this rock.”

“My bags are already packed,” Bud said. “Some weekend, huh?”

“When do the women revert back to themselves?” I asked.

“As soon as all of us are airborne,” Doc said.

“Can they come with us?” I asked. “I mean, can Holly, Audrey and Stacy come with us?”

“Well, there’s a little bit of a problem there,” Doc said with a little discomfort. “It seems that Holly, Chuck and Darren have already left. But, yes, we can all travel together. No more secrets, I swear. What about Alyssa?”

“She has the shortest trip,” I pointed out. “She’ll be fine.”