“Hey,” Mitzi’s snap into the phone interrupted my reach for my cell.
“Hey. Talk me off this ledge.”
“I assume this ledge you speak of is Island Boy?” In the background there was the clatter of pots and the shrill scream of a child. “Shit. Just a second.” I heard her scream, threats were made, and then she was back, not even a little breathless.
“Yeah, that ledge.” I spun a pen on my desk.
“Jump, woman. Jump with both feet and arms outstretched and pretty-fucking-please take me with you when you fall.” The smile in her words didn’t belie the truth I heard in the request.
“It’s stupid.” I started the debate we’d already had three times since Monday night.
“Who cares?” That was the issue. My arguments had merit, and hers were that of a fourth-grade shouting match.
“We live too far away.”
“So?”
“I don’t even know him.”
“Yet. But you can.”
“You suck at this.”
“I’m not gonna stand in the way of what could be true love.”
My next spin was a little too aggressive, and the Bic shot toward the edge of the desk. There was a rap on the glass of my wall and I looked up, raising my eyebrows when I saw what was there. “Mitzi, I’m getting flowers.”
“Bitch, God is smacking you on the damn forehead. Jump.”
I heard the click on her end and slowly hung up the receiver, gesturing in a kid, one who looked barely out of high school. I stood, watching warily as he carefully set the vase down, the entire arrangement tipping slightly before it found solid footing. “Thanks.”
“No problem, ma’am. They sure are big.”
I nodded, reaching out and snagging the card, the boy’s eyes following. I set it on my desk, my hand covering it. “Thanks.” I repeated the sentiment, and he finally turned, nodding to me with a smile and moving to the door. I tapped the card against the desk before letting out a sigh and flipping it over.
I can’t get you
out of my head.
I stared at the words until they blurred, and I tossed the card down, my butt settling deeper into my chair as I leaned back and looked at the flowers, a huge display of orchids and lilies, a colorful blend that brought me back to the island without even trying. He couldn’t get me out of his head? The feeling was mutual. Then, after a good ten minutes spent analyzing the decision, I picked my phone back up. Skimmed over his last text.
take a chance.
I took a deep breath, then responded.
I’m free this weekend.
5 months, 3 weeks before
My first passport stamp ever had been for that bachelorette party. And, just a week later, I was getting a second. I flipped my passport closed and tossed the navy book into my bag, zipping closed my suitcase, the contents already over-analyzed at least a dozen times.
“You’ll be fine,” Jena drawled from the kitchen, as she waltzed into my bedroom with two glasses of sweet tea. “Here. Take these. We don’t want you vomiting on Island Boy’s plane.”
“I don’t get airsick,” I responded, my stomach flipping as the words came out. Maybe I could get airsick. I took the pills from her and sat on the edge of the bed. Tossed back the medicine and took a deep sip of tea. Winced. “Did you get this from the fridge?”
“Yeah.”
I grabbed her wrist and stopped her mid-sip. “Don’t drink that. It’s old.”
“Old, Monday? Or old, last month?”
I groaned, took the glass away. “It’s old. I’ll just grab us beers.”
She followed me into the kitchen, glancing at her watch. “Better make ‘em sodas. You’ve got to leave in twenty to make it to the airport on time.”
“Is it too late to cancel?” I dumped out the glasses, then opened the fridge and grabbed two Cokes, tossing one her way.
“I thought Mitzi talked to you about this. She’s the convincer, not me.”
“Which is why I wanted you here. Is this crazy?”
“You running off to a foreign country with a man you barely know? Yes.” Jena cracked open her Coke and held it to her forehead. “It’s hot in here. Did you already turn off the air?”
“Turn on the fan. I’m trying to lower the utility bill. So ... I shouldn’t go?”
She plopped down at my round table, picking through my mail until she found a postcard with enough strength to act as a fan. “It’s crazy, but I didn’t say you shouldn’t go. Go. Live. Hell, one person in this town should do something exciting. I’m saddled with two kids and a husband who hasn’t gone down on me since prom night. I’d kill for two nights in Aruba with a sexy stranger. Just be smart. What’s your dad think?”
I looked away. “Haven’t told him. But I’m sure word’ll reach him by the time I return. If he calls you, let him know you have my hotel info and Brett’s number in case of emergency.”
She groaned. “Great. Put me in the line of fire.”
“You’re the only one who’ll stand up to him. The other girls will hand over the information as soon as he starts yelling.”
She stood. “You know I love you, right?”
I smiled. “I know. Thanks for feeding Miller.”
“Gives me an excuse to escape the kids. Sleep in your bed. Watch your porn.”
I laughed. “You find any, please leave it out for me. Showtime’s the only excitement these walls have seen lately.”
“Hey. Talk me off this ledge.”
“I assume this ledge you speak of is Island Boy?” In the background there was the clatter of pots and the shrill scream of a child. “Shit. Just a second.” I heard her scream, threats were made, and then she was back, not even a little breathless.
“Yeah, that ledge.” I spun a pen on my desk.
“Jump, woman. Jump with both feet and arms outstretched and pretty-fucking-please take me with you when you fall.” The smile in her words didn’t belie the truth I heard in the request.
“It’s stupid.” I started the debate we’d already had three times since Monday night.
“Who cares?” That was the issue. My arguments had merit, and hers were that of a fourth-grade shouting match.
“We live too far away.”
“So?”
“I don’t even know him.”
“Yet. But you can.”
“You suck at this.”
“I’m not gonna stand in the way of what could be true love.”
My next spin was a little too aggressive, and the Bic shot toward the edge of the desk. There was a rap on the glass of my wall and I looked up, raising my eyebrows when I saw what was there. “Mitzi, I’m getting flowers.”
“Bitch, God is smacking you on the damn forehead. Jump.”
I heard the click on her end and slowly hung up the receiver, gesturing in a kid, one who looked barely out of high school. I stood, watching warily as he carefully set the vase down, the entire arrangement tipping slightly before it found solid footing. “Thanks.”
“No problem, ma’am. They sure are big.”
I nodded, reaching out and snagging the card, the boy’s eyes following. I set it on my desk, my hand covering it. “Thanks.” I repeated the sentiment, and he finally turned, nodding to me with a smile and moving to the door. I tapped the card against the desk before letting out a sigh and flipping it over.
I can’t get you
out of my head.
I stared at the words until they blurred, and I tossed the card down, my butt settling deeper into my chair as I leaned back and looked at the flowers, a huge display of orchids and lilies, a colorful blend that brought me back to the island without even trying. He couldn’t get me out of his head? The feeling was mutual. Then, after a good ten minutes spent analyzing the decision, I picked my phone back up. Skimmed over his last text.
take a chance.
I took a deep breath, then responded.
I’m free this weekend.
5 months, 3 weeks before
My first passport stamp ever had been for that bachelorette party. And, just a week later, I was getting a second. I flipped my passport closed and tossed the navy book into my bag, zipping closed my suitcase, the contents already over-analyzed at least a dozen times.
“You’ll be fine,” Jena drawled from the kitchen, as she waltzed into my bedroom with two glasses of sweet tea. “Here. Take these. We don’t want you vomiting on Island Boy’s plane.”
“I don’t get airsick,” I responded, my stomach flipping as the words came out. Maybe I could get airsick. I took the pills from her and sat on the edge of the bed. Tossed back the medicine and took a deep sip of tea. Winced. “Did you get this from the fridge?”
“Yeah.”
I grabbed her wrist and stopped her mid-sip. “Don’t drink that. It’s old.”
“Old, Monday? Or old, last month?”
I groaned, took the glass away. “It’s old. I’ll just grab us beers.”
She followed me into the kitchen, glancing at her watch. “Better make ‘em sodas. You’ve got to leave in twenty to make it to the airport on time.”
“Is it too late to cancel?” I dumped out the glasses, then opened the fridge and grabbed two Cokes, tossing one her way.
“I thought Mitzi talked to you about this. She’s the convincer, not me.”
“Which is why I wanted you here. Is this crazy?”
“You running off to a foreign country with a man you barely know? Yes.” Jena cracked open her Coke and held it to her forehead. “It’s hot in here. Did you already turn off the air?”
“Turn on the fan. I’m trying to lower the utility bill. So ... I shouldn’t go?”
She plopped down at my round table, picking through my mail until she found a postcard with enough strength to act as a fan. “It’s crazy, but I didn’t say you shouldn’t go. Go. Live. Hell, one person in this town should do something exciting. I’m saddled with two kids and a husband who hasn’t gone down on me since prom night. I’d kill for two nights in Aruba with a sexy stranger. Just be smart. What’s your dad think?”
I looked away. “Haven’t told him. But I’m sure word’ll reach him by the time I return. If he calls you, let him know you have my hotel info and Brett’s number in case of emergency.”
She groaned. “Great. Put me in the line of fire.”
“You’re the only one who’ll stand up to him. The other girls will hand over the information as soon as he starts yelling.”
She stood. “You know I love you, right?”
I smiled. “I know. Thanks for feeding Miller.”
“Gives me an excuse to escape the kids. Sleep in your bed. Watch your porn.”
I laughed. “You find any, please leave it out for me. Showtime’s the only excitement these walls have seen lately.”
