Lindsey and I walked into the Cuban restaurant the next day for lunch, and picked a quiet table in the corner. Marta, our waitress from two days ago, smiled when she saw us and told the other waitress heading our way that she would take care of us. She was five feet of dark, mysterious Cuban sexiness, and she greeted us like long lost friends.
"Hey you two! Whataya been up to?" she said.
"Wild sex on a beautiful wooden boat," Lindsey said with a smile.
"Ooo!" Marta said, eyeing me and smiling. "How come you tourists always have all the fun?"
"Join us later? There's plenty of fun to go around," I said.
"I bet there is," she said, and she winked at Lindsey as she walked away, leaving us with our menus.
We pigged out on some fantastic spicy fish and cold beer, and enjoyed watching the constant parade of interesting characters coming and going from the restaurant. When we finished Marta brought us our bill and we gave her an extra nice tip along with a note with my phone number and the boat's name and location. She had cooled on the sexy talk as our meal wore on, so Lindsey and I doubted we would see her outside the restaurant, but you never know. She took the note and put it in her pocket.
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We hadn't seen Marta for a few days, so I was surprised when I got a call from her. It was a bit disappointing though. She called to see if I was interested in buying any guitars, of all things. She said she didn't know many people with money, and if I had a big boat I must have some. We both laughed about it, and she was so sweet I agreed to have a look. She was calling to help out a friend who needed money to get home to see a very sick parent, so I thought maybe I'd buy a cheap acoustic if he had one, and teach myself to play.
Marta picked us up at the marina in her worn out old Chevy and drove us off the island and up the highway for about half an hour, and we pulled in the driveway of a shabby looking apartment house. As soon as her musician friend walked out Lindsey and I recognized him immediately — it was Johnny's friend Phil, who we had met at Penny's camp the day Connie died. We only had half a day together up there, but he and Lindsey had spent some 'quality time' together in the middle of the sexual frenzy that broke out in the pond that afternoon, and she gave him a big hug and a kiss next to Marta's car.
"You guys know each other?" Marta asked, looking surprised.
"Yes, we're old friends," Lindsey said.
"What's up Phil!" I said, giving him a bro-hug.
"Hard times man," Phil said, shaking his head and looking tired. "My mom's dying. Had a bad stroke. I'm tryin' to get home. Marta said she'd drive me to Miami to catch a plane, but I gotta sell a guitar or somethin' to make it happen.
"Marta, you got time right now?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's my day off," she said.
"Let's go. Pack a bag Phil, we'll wait for you." I said.
