gushed.
The
conversation turned to Sand and Water for a while before Arlen asked, “Any word
from your wedding date recently?”
She’d kept him up
to date on the whole Rain saga over the past few weeks. He lived for updates.
Everybody told Daphne she told the funniest stories. She had a knack for adding
details and looking-back-on-the-moment commentary that kept everyone laughing. Besides,
Arlen was not one to miss an opportunity to harangue Daphne about her single-dom.
He harassed Daphne about being eternally single and closing herself off to
opportunities to change that almost as much as Bettina did.
They didn’t
seem to understand that the only men Daphne could attract were men who
disappointed her, and so it was better not to try. What was the point? Nearly
every boyfriend she’d ever had cheated on her. She was saving everyone time by
not getting into some relationship she’d have to end eventually anyway. In the
end, they never failed to disappoint her.
Daphne shook her head. No word from Rain
recently. “Not since I told him he could stay in my suite. Not that I really
expected him to keep in touch. He’s notoriously bad at that—even when
he’s in the country, right here in D.C.,” she said.
He shook his
head and raised his shoulders in a what-can-you-do sort of way. “He is so hot.
He knows he can get away with it. If I weren’t with Tom, and Rain were gay, and
he weren’t such a little man whore, I’d be all over that.”
“Of course he
can.” The hot ones always got away with doing exactly what they wanted to do.
And not doing a thing they didn’t want to do. “But I don’t care what you and
Bettina say. Nothing is going to happen between us.” She’d already decided
that.
Arlen quirked an eyebrow. “That’s what you say now. You wait
until you’re on that beach. And he’s rubbing on that suntan lotion. And he’s
all half-naked looking good ‘cause you know he spends way too much time in the
gym. And he tells you what a nice rack you have. One thing leads to another…”
“Stop, Arlen,
stop!” She couldn’t stop laughing. Her laugh was too loud, too high-pitched,
but she couldn’t help it. His words embarrassed her. Worse than that, they
painted a picture in her head that wouldn’t go away. And she really wanted to
want it to go away.
#
A week before
Christmas, Daphne and Bettina went to the day spa where they usually got their
waxing done. They had hair appointments later in the day with their respective
hairdressers. They’d each tried the others’ hairdressers, and things hadn’t
worked out for them. Bettina didn’t like the way Daphne’s guy did her layers,
and Daphne didn’t like the way Bettina’s lady styled her bangs.
The wedding
party was having a spa day on New Year’s Eve, the day of the rehearsal dinner,
at the resort hotel’s spa. Daphne wanted a little pre-waxing done though. They
were going to be in San Juan for a few days before the rehearsal dinner, and
she wanted to hit the beach as soon as she got there.
She couldn’t
imagine the beach or wearing nothing but the scrap of material that was her
swimsuit as she and Bettina hurried down the sidewalk from where they’d parked
Bettina’s car, anxious to get out of the frigid, mid-December air. Her fingers
were somewhat warm in her gloves, but her face was numb with cold.
The day spa was
decorated for Christmas. A reef hung on the front door. A small, white,
artificial Christmas tree was located behind the receptionist’s desk and was
decorated with red and blue ornaments. Instrumental, jazz-style Christmas music
played softly over the sound system.
After the
receptionist confirmed what Daphne was getting done, she walked to the back to
let the people who were doing their waxing know they
were there. Bettina turned to her, eyebrows raised.
“What?” Daphne
asked innocently, as if she had no clue what was coming when in reality she had
a pretty good idea of what Bettina would
The
conversation turned to Sand and Water for a while before Arlen asked, “Any word
from your wedding date recently?”
She’d kept him up
to date on the whole Rain saga over the past few weeks. He lived for updates.
Everybody told Daphne she told the funniest stories. She had a knack for adding
details and looking-back-on-the-moment commentary that kept everyone laughing. Besides,
Arlen was not one to miss an opportunity to harangue Daphne about her single-dom.
He harassed Daphne about being eternally single and closing herself off to
opportunities to change that almost as much as Bettina did.
They didn’t
seem to understand that the only men Daphne could attract were men who
disappointed her, and so it was better not to try. What was the point? Nearly
every boyfriend she’d ever had cheated on her. She was saving everyone time by
not getting into some relationship she’d have to end eventually anyway. In the
end, they never failed to disappoint her.
Daphne shook her head. No word from Rain
recently. “Not since I told him he could stay in my suite. Not that I really
expected him to keep in touch. He’s notoriously bad at that—even when
he’s in the country, right here in D.C.,” she said.
He shook his
head and raised his shoulders in a what-can-you-do sort of way. “He is so hot.
He knows he can get away with it. If I weren’t with Tom, and Rain were gay, and
he weren’t such a little man whore, I’d be all over that.”
“Of course he
can.” The hot ones always got away with doing exactly what they wanted to do.
And not doing a thing they didn’t want to do. “But I don’t care what you and
Bettina say. Nothing is going to happen between us.” She’d already decided
that.
Arlen quirked an eyebrow. “That’s what you say now. You wait
until you’re on that beach. And he’s rubbing on that suntan lotion. And he’s
all half-naked looking good ‘cause you know he spends way too much time in the
gym. And he tells you what a nice rack you have. One thing leads to another…”
“Stop, Arlen,
stop!” She couldn’t stop laughing. Her laugh was too loud, too high-pitched,
but she couldn’t help it. His words embarrassed her. Worse than that, they
painted a picture in her head that wouldn’t go away. And she really wanted to
want it to go away.
#
A week before
Christmas, Daphne and Bettina went to the day spa where they usually got their
waxing done. They had hair appointments later in the day with their respective
hairdressers. They’d each tried the others’ hairdressers, and things hadn’t
worked out for them. Bettina didn’t like the way Daphne’s guy did her layers,
and Daphne didn’t like the way Bettina’s lady styled her bangs.
The wedding
party was having a spa day on New Year’s Eve, the day of the rehearsal dinner,
at the resort hotel’s spa. Daphne wanted a little pre-waxing done though. They
were going to be in San Juan for a few days before the rehearsal dinner, and
she wanted to hit the beach as soon as she got there.
She couldn’t
imagine the beach or wearing nothing but the scrap of material that was her
swimsuit as she and Bettina hurried down the sidewalk from where they’d parked
Bettina’s car, anxious to get out of the frigid, mid-December air. Her fingers
were somewhat warm in her gloves, but her face was numb with cold.
The day spa was
decorated for Christmas. A reef hung on the front door. A small, white,
artificial Christmas tree was located behind the receptionist’s desk and was
decorated with red and blue ornaments. Instrumental, jazz-style Christmas music
played softly over the sound system.
After the
receptionist confirmed what Daphne was getting done, she walked to the back to
let the people who were doing their waxing know they
were there. Bettina turned to her, eyebrows raised.
“What?” Daphne
asked innocently, as if she had no clue what was coming when in reality she had
a pretty good idea of what Bettina would
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