mountainous wonder that awaited them. The harbor facing Charlotte Amalie was entrancing enough with sailboats bobbing in the water.
She watched people depart for the snorkel excursion, helmet dive, jet boats, and Atlantis submarine. The crowd going on the Kon-Tiki raft were already into party mode, laughing and dancing their way behind the guide, a woman holding up a big sign. Marla could imagine their boisterous return after they sampled a few rum punches on the ride.
Shading her face, she halted beside the group going to the Kayak Marine Sanctuary. “Do you see Brie or your folks anywhere?” She reached into her purse, rummaging for her sunglasses among the guidebooks she’d shoved in there before they left. She kept her key card pass in the zippered compartment along with her passport and traveler’s checks.
“What a mob,” Vail complained, scanning the passengers milling about. “We should have just taken our own taxi.”
“You’re probably right.” Vowing to buy a hat, she wiped the sweat already beading her brow.
“It took me fifteen years of marriage,” said a guy to another man standing next to her, “but now I understand that when a woman says she’s going shopping, that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s buying.”
“No kidding,” the other fellow said. “When my wife shops, she can’t make up her mind, so we go from store to store.”
“Personally, I think it’s genetic.”
Marla smiled to herself. She noticed both husbands carried large canvas shopping bags, no doubt prepared to escort their wives and pick up their own souvenirs.
“Oh, there’s Brie,” Marla said, spotting the teen’s lavender Bebe shirt as she squeezed through the security gate in front of her grandparents. Shoveling her way through the crowd, Marla hugged the girl. “Hi, honey. We’ve missed you.”
Kate beamed at her. “You look fresh and bright this morning.”
“I’m excited about seeing the island. It’s such a beautiful place, with the town at the base of the mountains and the picturesque harbor.”
“We need more than one day here,” Brianna stated, bouncing from foot to foot. “I’d love to go to the beach. Magen’s Bay is supposed to be one of the best. I don’t want to spend the whole afternoon shopping.”
“But there’s so much to buy here!” Marla exclaimed. “Jewelry, liquor, linens, perfume, island coffees and rum balls. And next to AH Riise is a place that just sells David Yunnan.”
“Oh yeah? Maybe they have the bracelet I want.”
“You’ve been eager to see Coral World,” Vail reminded his daughter, patting her shoulder. “Don’t let Marla turn you into a shopping fiend.”
“Too late for that,” John remarked in a dry tone. He stood beside his wife, tall and stalwart, with a bored expression. Straightening his glasses, he jerked his thumb at one of the buses. “Are we heading over or just standing here?”
Once inside the bus, he took a seat next to a handsome older man while Marla and Kate sat next to each other, and Vail kept his daughter company. Marla heard the stranger introduce himself as an ex-seaman to John and soon they were chatting like old buddies. Peculiar, she thought. He opens up to someone he doesn’t know more than he does to us.
“I’ll tell you a funny story,” the Navy guy said in a manner that reminded her of Wilda Cleaver, the psychic who’d inherited a salon from Marla’s dead rival. Wilda began her long-winded tales in a similar fashion, and Marla had heard enough of them to cringe when anybody said they had a story to tell. She got an earful of the man saying how he’d given a young midshipman a requisition for fallopian tubes in the days before there were women on ships, and how the crew had sent the poor sap around in circles until he’d ended up asking the captain for help.
John responded with loud guffaws and started telling his own war stories, which she would’ve liked to hear, but Kate touched her arm and struck up a
She watched people depart for the snorkel excursion, helmet dive, jet boats, and Atlantis submarine. The crowd going on the Kon-Tiki raft were already into party mode, laughing and dancing their way behind the guide, a woman holding up a big sign. Marla could imagine their boisterous return after they sampled a few rum punches on the ride.
Shading her face, she halted beside the group going to the Kayak Marine Sanctuary. “Do you see Brie or your folks anywhere?” She reached into her purse, rummaging for her sunglasses among the guidebooks she’d shoved in there before they left. She kept her key card pass in the zippered compartment along with her passport and traveler’s checks.
“What a mob,” Vail complained, scanning the passengers milling about. “We should have just taken our own taxi.”
“You’re probably right.” Vowing to buy a hat, she wiped the sweat already beading her brow.
“It took me fifteen years of marriage,” said a guy to another man standing next to her, “but now I understand that when a woman says she’s going shopping, that doesn’t necessarily mean she’s buying.”
“No kidding,” the other fellow said. “When my wife shops, she can’t make up her mind, so we go from store to store.”
“Personally, I think it’s genetic.”
Marla smiled to herself. She noticed both husbands carried large canvas shopping bags, no doubt prepared to escort their wives and pick up their own souvenirs.
“Oh, there’s Brie,” Marla said, spotting the teen’s lavender Bebe shirt as she squeezed through the security gate in front of her grandparents. Shoveling her way through the crowd, Marla hugged the girl. “Hi, honey. We’ve missed you.”
Kate beamed at her. “You look fresh and bright this morning.”
“I’m excited about seeing the island. It’s such a beautiful place, with the town at the base of the mountains and the picturesque harbor.”
“We need more than one day here,” Brianna stated, bouncing from foot to foot. “I’d love to go to the beach. Magen’s Bay is supposed to be one of the best. I don’t want to spend the whole afternoon shopping.”
“But there’s so much to buy here!” Marla exclaimed. “Jewelry, liquor, linens, perfume, island coffees and rum balls. And next to AH Riise is a place that just sells David Yunnan.”
“Oh yeah? Maybe they have the bracelet I want.”
“You’ve been eager to see Coral World,” Vail reminded his daughter, patting her shoulder. “Don’t let Marla turn you into a shopping fiend.”
“Too late for that,” John remarked in a dry tone. He stood beside his wife, tall and stalwart, with a bored expression. Straightening his glasses, he jerked his thumb at one of the buses. “Are we heading over or just standing here?”
Once inside the bus, he took a seat next to a handsome older man while Marla and Kate sat next to each other, and Vail kept his daughter company. Marla heard the stranger introduce himself as an ex-seaman to John and soon they were chatting like old buddies. Peculiar, she thought. He opens up to someone he doesn’t know more than he does to us.
“I’ll tell you a funny story,” the Navy guy said in a manner that reminded her of Wilda Cleaver, the psychic who’d inherited a salon from Marla’s dead rival. Wilda began her long-winded tales in a similar fashion, and Marla had heard enough of them to cringe when anybody said they had a story to tell. She got an earful of the man saying how he’d given a young midshipman a requisition for fallopian tubes in the days before there were women on ships, and how the crew had sent the poor sap around in circles until he’d ended up asking the captain for help.
John responded with loud guffaws and started telling his own war stories, which she would’ve liked to hear, but Kate touched her arm and struck up a
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