Free Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 02 - Island Intrigue by Marty Ambrose

could listen.
    My mom laughed with a high-pitched twitter. “Your
sister, Paula, is always up with the dawn to jog before
she goes to work. Honestly, I don’t know how she does
it. A full-time job, two kids, and a husband who’s a doctor. She’s remarkable”
    I silently mouthed the last two words with her, having heard them a hundred times before.
    “We spoke to your great-aunt last night, and she said
you were doing very well in your little newspaper job”
She paused.
    “You could say that.” Translated: We’re amazed
you’ve kept this job longer than six months.
    “Keep up the good work, Mallie.”
    “Thanks.” Translated: We don’t think you’ll last another six months.”
    She cleared her throat. Translated: I’m about to drop
a bomb.
    “Your father and I … uh … were thinking about visiting you on Coral Island.”
    I jerked into an upright position, knocking Kong onto
the floor; he whined in protest. “Oops, sorry.” I whisked
him up into my arms and hugged him.

    “Sorry about what?”
    “Nothing-I was talking to Kong.”
    “Oh … well, anyway, we want to visit Coral Island.
Maybe check it out along with some other Florida locales.” Her tone was so abnormally chipper, it almost
caused sunshine to spill out of the receiver. I looked
around in vain for my sunglasses. “Your father and I
are thinking about buying a retirement home. Nothing
big, mind you. Maybe a four thousand square foot cottage with a swimming pool, cabana, and tennis courtsomewhere on the water with a country club nearby.
The kind of place where we can be part of a community
of like-minded people.”
    I gasped. My parents on Coral Island? With no
buffer? “I … I thought you hated Florida. Said it was
full of bugs and displaced crazies.”
    “All the more reason for people like us to move
there-we’re dependable, solid, cultured. Just imagine
how much we could improve the tone of life. And
the warm winters would be nice.”
    “It does get cold here,” I felt obligated to point out.
“Almost frigid at times.”
    “Really?”
    “Oh, yes”
    Silence. Translated: I know you’re lying, but I’ll just
pass over that for now and wound you very deeply later.
    “It doesn’t matter, Mallie. We still want to visit.” Her
tone was firm, final.
    Kong hid his head under my pillow. I wanted to do the same. “All right. Let me know when you’re coming,” I managed to get out between clenched teeth.

    “It may be sooner than you think.”
    Uh-oh.
    “Look for us when you see us. Ta-ta.” She hung up.
    Ta-ta? I stared at the phone, then fell back onto my
bed in defeat.
    It took me three donuts and two twelve-ounce black
coffees to get my equilibrium back after the phone conversation with my mother. Not to mention the “Ta-ta.”
Where did that come from?
    By the time I breezed into the Observer office, I was
able to suppress the dread over her possible visit and
even manage what I thought passed for a cheery greeting to Sandy.
    “Did your mother call this morning?” she inquired
after one look at my face.
    “Does it show?”
    Her eyes grew openly amused. “You get this trappedanimal look, and your lips freeze up.”
    I flexed the corners of my mouth up and down to get
them to relax again, but the whole lower half of my face
felt as stiff as cement.
    “You need to talk to my mom,” Jimmy the Painter
chimed in. Dressed in his white, paint-splattered overalls, he was perched on the side of Sandy’s desk, apparently taking a water break. “She specializes in family
problems. Helps you to clear the negative energy.”
    “I appreciate the offer. But I think I’ll do it the old fashioned way-bury my anger in work and then kick
the dog when I get home”

    Jimmy looked so taken aback, I hastened to assure
him that I was joking. I’d never take so much as a pinkie
toe to Kong.
    “We heard about what happened last night,” Sandy
said, tucking the price tag into the sleeve of her soft