Chapter 20
I wake up to the sound of Rex and Juju out on my deck the next morning, squinting my eyes at the sound of their voices, grateful they’re hidden behind a wall of curtains now, thanks to Dom.
All that vivacious gusto I felt after my night out with Dom and his friends is fading at the sound of my ex’s voice, along with my plummeting blood-alcohol level. I snatch my phone from the nightstand and text Abby from bed.
Why does Rex think he gets ownership of our SHARED deck?? He’s out there right now drinking coffee with Juju. WTF
She writes back almost immediately.
Start walking around nude. That little hangout spot of theirs will be a thing of the past real quick . . . just sayin’ ??
She knows what to say to make me crack a smile every time I need it. I type back.
Or it’ll make Rex live out on the deck permanently just to catch a glimpse of what he’ll never have again
I flop back onto the mattress. If I’m going to spend the next two months next door to Rex, it better not be spent listening to them making plans to go snorkeling first thing in the morning.
My phone rings.
“Good morning, or is it afternoon there?” I ask after hitting the green button.
“Does it even matter anymore?” Abby asks. “I’ve been at the office since last Monday. It’s Thursday. Or Friday? Or maybe it’s still Tuesday. I don’t even know. Thank God I found that cat walker for Toby. The office owes me a fifteen-minute personal call at this point. Are they still out there?”
I tell her they are, and we get to work, brainstorming every conceivable plan of getting my deck back. Each plan involves something outrageous. Nudity — which we’ve already considered — a blaring stereo, murder, and — my personal favorite — setting the deck on fire.
“Dom would kill me,” I sigh. “And he’s really too wonderful to do that to him.”
“I need to hear more about this date you two went on . . . Hang on.” Abby suddenly sounds muffled, but I think I can hear Brett’s voice in the background. I swear her boss gets off on ordering her around. She sounds deflated when she comes back on the line. “I need to go.”
“Should we come up with your plan of escape next? Something involving fire and nudity too?”
She laughs. “Probably. I need to get out of here and take a shower today. Brett just told me that my office has a funk to it, but that didn’t stop him from handing me another stack of records to comb through.”
We hang up after I make her promise to take the longest, hottest shower of her life in her own bathroom today, and then get a quick workout in to release a storm of endorphins into her bloodstream before she heads into another work bender. I briefly wonder if Abby and I should both forgo the idea of finding love with actual men, and just grow old together on a tropical fruit compound here in Hawaii.
Absentmindedly, I scroll through local land for sale on Zillow while making coffee, then click on a listing near the North Shore. The photos show a blue, two-story house on a lush green lot, perched on a small hill. The listing says it has views of both the rugged green mountains and the ocean, with two acres of fruit crops, including banana trees, avocados, and papaya. There’s even a mango tree near the pineapple patch.
I send Abby a screenshot.
Can you believe people actually live like this? They’ve made all the right decisions in life. Join me in banana farming, please
She responds immediately.
At this point I’d just settle for a shower and nine uninterrupted hours in my own bed. But, sure, let’s be banana farmers
I chuckle, wishing with all my heart that she was serious.