The mother in front of me smiled. “Congratulations,” she said. “Sounds like you have it figured out more than most people.”

The line began to move. “Not really. We just had a lot of hard lessons early on.”

“Lucky you,” she said, guiding her son down the aisle.

I laughed once, thinking about all the fuckups and letdowns, but she was right. If I had to do it all over again, I’d rather endure the pain in the beginning than have had it easy and then have it all go to shit later on.

Shepley and I rushed to baggage claim, got our luggage, and then hurried outside to catch a cab. I was surprised to see a man in a black suit holding a dry erase board with MADDOX PARTY scribbled in red marker.

“Hey,” I said.

“Mistah Maddox?” he said, smiling wide.

“That’s us.”

“I’m Mistah Gumbs. Right this way.” He took my larger bag and led us outside to a black Cadillac Escalade. “You’re staying at the Ritz-Carlton, yeah?”

“Yes,” Shepley said.

We loaded the trunk with the rest of the bags, and then sat in the middle row of seats.

“Score,” Shepley said, looking around.

The driver took off, buzzing up and down hills, and around curves, all on the wrong side of the road. It was confusing, because the wheel was on the same side as ours.

“Glad we didn’t rent a car,” I said.

“Yes, the majority of accidents here are caused by tourists.”

“I bet,” Shepley said.

“It’s not hard. Just remember you are closest to the curb,” he said, karate-chopping the air with his left hand.

He continued giving us a minitour, pointing out different things along the way. The palm trees made me feel enough out of our element, but the cars parked on the left side of the road were really messing with my head. Large hills seemed to touch the sky, peppered with little white specks—what I assumed were hillside houses.

“That’s Havensight Mall, there,” Mr. Gumbs said. “Where all the cruise ships dock, see?”

I saw the big ships, but I couldn’t stop staring at the water. I’d never seen water such a pure blue before. I guess that’s why they call it Caribbean blue. It was fucking unbelievable. “How close are we?”

“Gettin’ there,” Mr. Gumbs said with a happy grin.

Right on cue, the Cadillac slowed to a stop to wait for oncoming traffic, and then we pulled into a long drive. He slowed once more for a security booth, we were waved in, and then we continued on another long drive to the entrance of the hotel.

“Thanks!” Shepley said. He tipped the driver, and then pulled out his cell phone, quickly tapping on the screen. His phone made a kiss noise—must have been America. He read the message and then nodded. “Looks like you and I go to Mare’s room, and they’re getting ready in yours.”

I made a face. “That’s . . . odd.”