Page 30 of The Newcomer
“No. My dad sold cars for a living. The folks came down here from Michigan on vacation one January, Mom said they thought they’d found paradise. The water was blue and the sun was shining. My dad told her he never wanted to see another snow shovel for as long as he lived. According to her, he was always full of big ideas. They were staying at a little tourist court up the road from here, and one day he spotted the for-sale sign out front of the Murmuring Surf. Without consulting her he borrowed money from his folks and hers, did some fast talking to the previous owners, the Doughertys, and next thing Mom knew, they were in the motel business.”
“And she stayed on, running the place, after he split?” Letty asked.
“She didn’t have much of a choice. My old man met a cocktail waitress over at Derby Lane, that was the local greyhound track,and the next thing Mom knew, even though she’d always been a housewife until they moved down here to Florida, she was running a motel and raising a kid.”
“Must have been tough,” Letty said.
“She’s a tough lady,” Joe said. “But she’s a soft touch for a sob story. Which is why I try to run interference when I can. Because people take advantage.” He gave her a hard stare.
Letty stared right back. “I don’t have a sob story. I’m just trying to live my life and take care of my niece. Is that some kind of a crime?”
“You tell me,” he said.
The door chimed. Ava breezed in with an armload of grocery bags. “I’m back.”
She looked from Letty to her son. “Everything okay here?”
“I met Mr. and Mrs. Maples,” Letty said. “They came in to tell you they want first dibs on the Sheehans’ unit.”
“Here we go,” Joe said. “Musical motel units.”
“I also met Arlene, the lady in the mint-green unit? Her tub was stopped up, but I took care of it.”
Joe looked skeptical. “What’d you do?”
“I got a plunger and the plumber’s snake and I extracted a huge hairball from the drain,” Letty said.
“Good work,” Ava said, beaming at her new employee.
“Speaking of work, I gotta get back to mine,” Joe said. “I hooked up your new printer.”
“Did you show Letty that new software, so she can teach me how to use it?” Ava asked.
“No time today,” Joe said.
11
“HI MOM!” ISABELLE DECURTIS DROPPEDher backpack on the reception desk. She pretended to be surprised when she spotted the small person busily coloring at the miniature red table.
“Who’s this?”
Maya looked up, giving a shy smile. “I’m Maya. I’m four.”
“Hey!” the teenager said, kneeling down beside her. “I’m Isabelle and I’m almost eighteen.” She pointed to the “cover” of the booklet Maya had stapled together.
The picture showed a small stick figure with a headful of vivid yellow circles, holding hands with a taller figure with flowing golden tresses, spiky black eyelashes, and cartoonish high heels.
“Did you draw this?” Isabelle asked, her eyes widening in admiration.
Maya nodded.
“No way!” Isabelle exclaimed. She tapped the smaller figure. “Is this you?”
“Me and Mommy,” Maya said. “We’re going to a birthday party.”
Isabelle looked up at Letty, and then at her own mother.
“Will they have cake at the birthday party?” Isabelle asked.
