Epilogue
The following features scenes and characters from an upcoming Holiday Novella series written by Christina Berry, Natalie Parker, and Lizzie Stanley
Kira
“ I can’t get over this view,” I marvel, looking over the side of the sleek speed boat. “This place is so beautiful.” I tilt my head back to let the late afternoon sun soak into my skin.
“Mmm hmm,” West concedes next to me. “Yup, it’s great.”
I look over at him to find him just as I left him - with his leg bouncing up and down and his hands clasped in his lap.
“Seriously, what is with you?” I ask. “You love going fast. Everything about you is fast.
Though his eyes are unreadable from behind his shades, I see his jaw clench and his Adam’s apple bob. “I don’t know,” he says with a slight gulp as he feebly tries to wave his hand. “It’s just the…” he trails off as his hand flops in the breeze.
“It’s an inner ear thing,” Lincoln, the boat captain informs us over his shoulder as he seamlessly steers the water craft. “The erratic motion of the boat can cause an imbalance.”
“Poor baby, I’m sorry. Here, hold my hand,” I take hold of one of West’s hands and clasp my fingers through his and continue to admire the sun glistening against the crystal waves.
So far, this is my definition of Paradise and I couldn’t be happier that Agnes suggested this place for our honeymoon.
Her cousin Elvira owns a resort down here called the Salty Palms and got us a discount.
I perused the website for a good hour while we were booking and I think what I’m looking forward to most is relaxing with a cocktail at the mermaid - themed tiki hut.
Apparently they have a large aquarium in the middle of the bar that does mermaid shows.
To me, the trip is off to a terrific start with this exhilarating boat ride from the coast to the small island the resort sits on.
Though Linc is quiet, he’s very friendly, and his little beagle Sally is a - fucking - dorable in her little life vest with a shark fin on the back.
She gives one of those little doggy smiles as she basks in the sea breeze while we pitch and surge forward against the swells.
“I’m … feeling a little….”
I look over at West to find he’s turned an unattractive shade of green.
“Uh oh…” is all I can come up with before my husband bolts from his seat to the back of the boat. “Oh dear God,” I exclaim, looking from him to Linc. The man barely looks over his shoulder as he mumbles something about feeding the fishes.
I carefully stand and make my way to the back to comfort my husband. Clutching the back rail for support, I use my other hand to rub circles on his back - though I’m careful not to look over the side to check out his work. I think it would be better for our sex life if I didn’t.
The next thing I know, Sally, the wonderful nautical little beagle wanders over to us and takes a seat next to West as if offering him silent support.
It can only look up from here.
“Well, thanks for not attempting any figure eights or anything,” I look over at Linc as West falls to his knees and then rests his forehead against the wooden planks of the dock.
“No problem,” he nods thoughtfully down at West's crumpled form while Sally sniffs around his hair and gives his face a few licks.
“You okay babe?” I ask down at my husband as he all but dry humps the dock. He’s definitely happy to be back on land.
“Yeah I’m fine,” he sighs out heavily, looking up from his prone position as I take a seat on a nearby bench. “Just want to brush my teeth and get a stiff drink and I’ll be in ship shape.”
Linc snorts out a chuckle. “I see what you did there,” he muses at West, who I don’t think even meant to make a nautical pun.
“Anyway…,” he places his hands on his hips and tilts his head in the direction of our luggage.
“Everywhere on this resort is walking distance or you can check out a golf cart,” he casts his arm a ways down the dock and points at a row of neatly parked carts and a concierge stand.
“Ooh, let's get moving,” I gently urge West as he staggers to his feet. “I really want to check out that mermaid bar.”
“I have to say,” West breathes as he stands and takes me by the hand. “I must’ve done something right that my wife is more excited to go look at girls in bikinis than I am.”
“It’s so much more than that though,” Lincoln informs us before he whistles for his obedient pup to jump back aboard his boat.
“It’s the atmosphere and the festive vibe.
All the staff are friendly and a lot of fun - well,” his brows flatten as he shuts the door and West opens my side to help me in.
“Except for Victoria. She’s a vicious, tempestuous bitch…
” he mutters in more words than I think I’ve heard him speak in a row.
West and I both regard him wide eyed as he starts to untie his boat.
“Anyway,” he continues as he hops onto the stern deck. “I’ve got one more pick up to do before I’m done for the day. Their Mermaid Happy Hour starts soon so I might just see you there,” he mentions as he pushes off with his foot and strolls to the front of his boat to start the engine.
“Alright then,” West pipes up, turning us in the direction of the golf carts. “I’m driving.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, taking hold of my luggage handle and pulling it behind me.
“Yeah I’m sure babe. I have to redeem myself.”
I sigh, though I’m glad he’s feeling better. “Why do I get the feeling this is going to be like riding in the jeep with Agnes.”
West
I’m doing better after a brisk drive to the east end of the resort where Kira and I will be staying. The fresh salty air while on flat, non-moving ground did me good, not to mention a satisfying fuck with my wife in the rooms rainforest like shower.
Now, her hand is clasped in mine as we walk the cobblestone path of the Salty Palms resort. As I look up and around at our surroundings, I note the occasional Christmas decoration like a wreath of seashells, or holly and palm garlands hanging from the lamp posts.
Our honeymoon was delayed by a few months as there was a shit ton to do with my new role as mayor and Kira had a lot of things to square away before kicking off renovations at the Inn.
But with neither of us being particularly close to our families, we figured a Christmas honeymoon in a tropical climate might be just the key.
Taking a break from the harsh winter and all that.
I can tell this is just the slice of paradise we need, as we approach the door to the two story tiki bar that’s got water on both sides of it.
The only thing giving me pause is the impossible-to-miss sign that reads No Pitching Tents allowed inside this establishment.
Take it outside (where it belongs) adhered to the post outside.
Still holding her hand, I lead Kira through the threshold and why in the fuck did I for one minute think Agnes was joking when she said this place was a mermaid bar? The sign outside, and the fact that this was Agnes’s recommendation makes everything click together right now.
Sure enough, there’s several young ladies scurrying around in skimpy, barely there outfits as they take cocktail orders, stock clean glasses and clear tables.
“Hello, welcome in!” A cheerful bell of a voice greets us in a British accent. I barely get a look at her wardrobe before my head snaps away and I decide to check out the ceiling fan that looks like a boat propeller. Cool.
“Hi,” I say back. “Two please.”
“Oh my God, I love your bikini top!” My wife exclaims. “West! Check it out!”
How do men come in here and not look like giant pervs?
I clear my throat and suck in a breath before chancing a glance at the girl's chest. She’s sporting two pearly pink clams over where her boobs should be.
See? I’m a fucking asshole. But she appears to be…
under-endowed? I look away again awkwardly.
“And your accent makes this place feel even more exotic,” Kira gushes.
“Oh,” her cheeks pink slightly. “Thank you. So I’m afraid our tables are a bit full up but there’s plenty of room at the bar if you’d like to wait for one to open up.”
“Thank you,” I nod at her as I lead us to the expansive tiki bar set up along the far wall.
This place is amazing. One far wall is floor to ceiling thick glass that shows a below view of the lagoon we just crossed. An eclectic array of sea life seems to be taking up residence in the water including a …
“Oh my god, a manatee,” I muse.
“Why yes,” the Brit says over her shoulder as she finds us a couple seats at the bar. “That would be Hugh.”
Hugh Manatee. Unbelievable.
I pull out a seat for Kira and get settled in the one next to her and my attention is immediately drawn to the clear aquarium wall behind the bar.
Strands of kelp dance slowly to the tropical themed holiday music playing and various currents of bubbles flutter up from between rocks and corals.
Brightly colored fish chase each other and a giant fish with a human upper body flaps by scaring the shit out of me.
“Jesus!” I flail, jumping back and rocking my stool. I grab onto the edge of the bamboo bar top to steady myself as Kira laughs beside me, rubbing my shoulder.
“Oh my god, an actual mermaid!” She rejoices as the thin and slender fish woman smiles and waves from behind the glass. Her fins are a shimmery silver which seems to match the color of her short hair that floats around her head.
“Son of a bitch,” is my feedback as I hold a hand to my chest, willing my heart to slow the fuck down. I need a drink more than ever.
“You know babe, I think you should skip the local craft beer and maybe head straight for a whiskey neat. You seem a bit jumpy,” Kira seems unphased as she reaches for the cocktail menu just as a tall Amazonian - like girl approaches us, her black ponytail swinging.
“What do you want?” She asks, sounding annoyed and I’m thinking it’s not in the context of taking our order.