Chapter 14
Fourteen
June 14, morning
The buzzing of my phone pulls me from a deep slumber, and I reach out with my eyes still closed, slapping the nightstand several times before finally finding the offending device. I pull it into the bed with me and blink to clear the sleep from my eyes. I hope nothing’s wrong with my boys.
The phone shows it’s 6 a.m. and a message is waiting from Suzanne. She’s never texted me this early, so it must be important.
Suzanne: This was in the paper this morning.
I click on the attached link, and the Portland Forecaster opens to an article titled “South Portland Man Charged for Drunk Driving with Two Children.”
Multiple charges have been filed against Benjamin Cushing, age 30, after he was clocked driving 74 miles per hour on Highland Avenue on Sunday at around 11:30 p.m. Per state law, the default speed limit in residential areas is 25 miles per hour unless otherwise posted.
An on-site breath analysis returned a blood alcohol content of 0.11, nearly 38 percent more than the legal limit of 0.08. Two children, ages 5 and 4, were in the car with Cushing.
Cushing was charged with driving under the influence of intoxicants (OUI) and child endangerment in accordance with section 2411, Criminal OUI, of the Motor Vehicles and Traffic code. If convicted, he will be fined $500 and spend at least forty-eight hours in jail. Additionally, his driver’s license will be suspended for 150 days plus an additional 275 days for having minor passengers while committing the offense.
Police said the children were turned over to family members, and the Office of Child and Family Services (OCFS) will be notified of the incident.
Cushing is being held in Cumberland County Jail pending arraignment.
My hands start shaking uncontrollably as I call Suzanne.
She picks up immediately. “What a piece of shit!”
“The boys? Are they okay?”
“I just read the story and sent it to you. I don’t know anything more.”
“I need to come back. The boys can’t stay with that nasty troll. Can you pick me up at the airport?”
“Of course I can. Henry is out of town. Stay with me.”
“Thanks. I’ll call you back when I book my flight.”
I log on to the airline site and use my return voucher to book a flight back to Portland tonight. I’m glad it’s off season down here, so there are plenty of seats left.
I text Suzanne my flight information, and she immediately confirms she’ll be there.
I don’t need be at STT until three. What am I going to do for eight hours? Panic is setting in as I start shaking again. More than a year without a driver’s license. Good thing he has a bicycle!
Cue uncontrolled laughter that soon turns into sobs. This isn’t how I imagined leaving this island, and I still don’t have enough money for an attorney, but I’m going to do what I should’ve done back in February—fight for my boys.
I throw everything I own into the same duffel bags I showed up to the island with a few months ago. At the Beach perfume Jack gave me for my birthday, I collapse onto the bed and hold the glass bottle close. Jack has access to attorneys who could fix my situation with the snap of his fingers, but I’m not the weak woman who ran away from Maine. I grew up in Cinnamon Bay, and I’m going back to Maine a stronger, more confident person.
There’s still time for a swim before I go, so I retrieve my suit from its duffel and pull it on.
I don’t want to leave this haven, and who knows if I will ever be back to St. John? I wish I could just take the boys and bring them here. I know they would love it as much as I do.
Floating in the warm saltwater feels good. The sun feels good. It’s hard to believe that I will be in Maine in a few hours.
My plan: Get the boys back, then come back to the island and away from the Cushing clan ASAP.
Now I just need to figure out how to go about it with minimal resources.
“You’re leaving today?” Sarah, my first friend on the island, comes out from behind the bar and throws her arms around me after I explain about Ben’s arrest. “I don’t want you to leave. Promise me you’ll come back.”
“I promise,” I say, hugging her tight. “I promise I’ll be back. And I’ll have the boys with me.”
“I’m going to miss you. How’re you getting to the airport?” Sarah releases me and returns to her place behind the bar.
“Oh my gosh, thanks for reminding me! I need to call Sebastian.” I pull his handwritten card out of my wallet and dial his number.
“Miss Isa! Of course I will drive you to the airport.” Sebastian’s voice resonates happiness through my phone. He’s another person I will miss dearly. “I will meet you at the port for the three-o’clock ferry.”
OK. I have my ride to the airport, my bags are packed, and I’ve said goodbye to Sarah. Let’s hope I don’t run into Jack.
I order a fish sandwich with fries and a water. Maine has great seafood, but I love how it’s prepared here. Pan-blackened mahi with spices and some sort of spicy sauce is so good! It’s one of the many things I’ll miss.
“I wish we had more time,” Sarah says. “I know you’ll do great getting the boys back. I can’t wait to meet them sometime soon.” She leaves her workstation for one more hug, and I have to pull myself back from clinging so long it becomes awkward.
Sarah has seen me grow from a timid divorcée fresh from court to a strong, confident single woman who won’t tolerate being yanked around by a man. “Thank you for being a friend when I needed one,” I tell her. Then I pick up my bags and leave We Be Jammin’ for the last time.
Saying goodbye to Sam and checking out of the Villas also hurts my heart. This has been my home off and on for the past few months. “Thank you for everything,” I say. “I’m flying out later today. How much do I owe you?” It occurs to me I never signed anything or gave him a credit card when I checked back in.
“It’s all been taken care of,” Sam replies. “Jack wanted to make sure you had a place to go. He took care of your bill for as long as you wanted to stay here.”
“I didn’t know he did that.” No wonder Sam gave me that nice villa. My stomach twists with doubt that I’m doing the right thing. But I’ve promised myself I won’t fall for a man’s schemes again, no matter how nice they seem. I pull out my wallet, bracing myself for an astronomical bill. “Well, I’d like to pay for it myself.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to pay.” Sam makes a gesture of helplessness. “He paid up front, so you have no outstanding bill.”
“It’s okay.” I feel bad for Sam. Jack shouldn’t have put him in the middle like this. “Thank you for everything.”
“Goodbye, Isa.” Sam forces an uncomfortable smile. “Please come back soon.”
“That’s my plan.”
The ferry crossing is uneventful. After several months in St. John, the close quarters on the watercraft don’t bother me like they did on my arrival. When the ferry docks and I make my way onto land, Sebastian’s waving arm grabs my attention. As I walk over to his van, I realize that I’ve made friends at nearly every step on this journey. I might’ve said farewell to Sarah on St. John, but here in St. Thomas is another friend to bid me well. How lucky am I!
“You won’t be gone long, will you?” Sebastian asks as he loads my bags into the vehicle.
“I’m not sure.” I feel sad letting Sebastian down. I really like working with him. “I have some personal business I need to attend to. Then I will hopefully be back.”
“Sooner than later, Miss Isa.”
“I’ll certainly try! And hey, maybe by the time I come back, you’ll have moved on to writing stories, not just reading them.”
“No promises, ma’am, but I’ll consider it.” His laugh is ebullient, and I join in willingly.
We arrive at STT too soon, and I pull out my wallet for the fourth time today. “How much do I owe you?”
“I can’t take money from you.” Sebastian looks offended that I am trying to pay him. “I will help you whenever you need me.” He unloads my bags and carries them over to the skycap. After the two men greet each other and ask about their respective families, Sebastian says, “Take good care of my friend Miss Isa.”
“Absolutely.” The skycap sketches a salute toward Sebastian and smiles at me, then takes my bags into the terminal to check them in for my flight.
I throw my arms around Sebastian. “Thank you so much! I will miss you.”
“Have a safe trip. I will see you very soon.”
I wave as he gets in his van and drives away. I’ve made more friends here in the short time I have been on the island than I have in the past five years living in Kennebunk. One way or another, I’ll be back. I know it.
Inside the terminal, I buy a drink and a book to read and sit at the gate to charge my phone. I keep looking around, thinking I might see Jack. By now someone must have said something to him about my leaving. But he doesn’t show up. There is no dramatic “goodbye for now” scene. I’m still mad at him. Is he mad at me too? I thumb my phone, switching his contact info from blocked to unblocked and back again. Argh! Why am I stressing out over a silly man? I should be plotting my strategy for getting my boys back.
My mind is a jumbled mess that only settles down when my group is called for boarding. On the aircraft, I take my seat next to the window. Sitting in front of me is an older lady. She’s complaining that the woman sitting next to her has a cat in a carrier. The flight attendant keeps coming over and asking if she would like to move her seat.
“I hope she calms down soon,” the man sitting next to me says. “I don’t want to listen to her the entire flight.”
I just smile to acknowledge him. I don’t want to have any part of the commotion. I just want to take off. I look outside, half expecting my own commotion and to see Jack walking toward the plane. But he isn’t there.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry. We are going to be delayed a few minutes, but not to worry, we will make the time up in the air,” the pilot announces over the intercom.
I keep staring out the window. It’s a tiny airport, so if Jack were to show up now, I’d see him right away. My eyes burn as I focus on the tarmac, hoping my fierce wishing will make him appear.
The woman in front of me starts screaming. “I’m not going to move! I was here first. Make her move. I’m allergic to cats.”
“Ma’am. She doesn’t have a problem sitting here, you do.” The flight attendant’s voice is calm, but a thread of steel runs through it. “You have two choices. You can change your seat, or you can get off the plane.”
“I’m not moving! This is my seat!” The woman is screaming now.
“Unbelievable,” I say to my row mate. “She’s being ridiculous.” I check the time on my phone. We’re behind schedule, but it will give Jack a chance to get here. I check my phone, flipping it off airplane mode to see if there are any messages. None. Should I text him? What would I say? “Leaving St. John for the indefinite future. It was good while it lasted.” No, that’s harsh, and this new, grown-up me isn’t harsh.
A shadow looms in the aisle, and my heart stops. It’s Jack!
But when I look up, two members of the St. Thomas police force are standing there, speaking with the screaming woman. They get her things out of the overhead compartment and escort her off the plane. Passengers clap as she leaves, and the cat owner speaks soothingly to her pet, who hasn’t made a sound during the entire kerfuffle.
The flight attendant closes the exterior door, then picks up a handset. “Cabin secure.”
I turn back to the window, giving the airport one last thorough scan. If Jack were to make a grand appearance, sweep me off my feet, and tell me “don’t go,” now is the time. But he’s not here.
We pull away from the gate and take off. The beautiful blues and greens of my adopted home get farther and farther away.