“Vérité,” Frank said with a grin. “It’s all about ratings, in the end.”
I began to cry. “This isn’t how it was supposed to—”
“Whose fault is that?” Geo asked.
“Maddie’s!” everyone cheered in unison.
“No!” I finally managed to scream as Officer Michelle began to shake me.
“Maddie?”
I opened my eyes.
“Maddie?” Eloise was tapping me gently. “I think you were having a bad dream.”
“Definitely,” I said. But as I got off the couch and headed for the bedroom, I was more afraid of what “reality” would bring.
20. Seeing as I’d been obliged to investigate the untimely passages of both a haughty sales clerk who’d falsely accused me of shoplifting and a seemingly discontented member of my Frugarmy in the past six months, it was hard to dispute the fact of my proximity to death.
seven
Despite the upbeat classical guitar music, fanciful papier-mâché vegetable centerpieces, and specific instructions for all guests to dress in colorful, casual attire for the cameras, a pall permeated the postwedding brunch.
Not only did the waitstaff look pale and stony-faced, but as I stood in the buffet line, it was clear that word of Alejandro’s fate had spread to anyone who had missed the disquieting news the evening before.
I can’t believe something like this happened while we were dancing the night away …
I had a feeling it wasn’t entirely safe to come down here …
I can’t imagine how horrified Anastasia and Philip must have been when they went to take pictures and found that poor man …
One of the servers dropped a fresh chafing dish full of chorizo into the heated steamer tray with a heavy plunk.
“Why didn’t you say anything to me when I got in last night?” Eloise whispered from beside me as we neared the fresh fruit and pan dulce table.
“I didn’t want to bring down your evening with bad news,” I said, ever more concerned about just how bad the news would turn out to be. Particularly after Frank got up early and reported that the day’s call sheet had TBD written across the front as well as lines through Timeshare contract signing and shots of us Lounging and swimming in the very pool where we’d all witnessed the gruesome discovery of a man who might have been my dream date in another life.
“I have to admit, it really was an awesome night,” Eloise said, the same lovesick smile plastered across her face that had kept me from saying anything about the incident last night. She helped herself to assorted melon, an empanada de piña, and two aptly named novias (brides). “We watched the fireworks from a cliff overlooking the resort and then we went on a really long walk down the coast. ”
“I’m surprised you didn’t see any police activity when you came back up from the beach.”
“We came back onto the property by one of the other pools, but it was quiet as could be,” Eloise said. “I wonder if he knows yet?”
A server sniffled as she added a helping of huevos rancheros onto Eloise’s outstretched plate.
The waiter next to her shook his head.
The subdued hush that permeated the banquet room was temporarily broken by hoots and clapping as the bride and groom made their entrance with camera crew in tow. They raised an imaginary toast to the crowd and began to work their way through the gauntlet of congratulatory hugs and good wishes.
They’d about reached the first buffet table when Enrique, the general manager, appeared from behind the swinging kitchen doors.
With an efficiency that belied his rumpled polo shirt, the heavy bags under his eyes, and the whiskers on his face, he nodded to two staff members. As they set about preparing plates with a little of everything, he beelined over to the bride and groom and escorted them to their reserved table for two at the front of the room.
Seconds later, the waiters appeared with full plates and placed them on the table. As soon as the happy couple was seated, Enrique took a couple of steps over to the hostess desk that had been turned so it functioned as a perfect makeshift podium. With all eyes on him there was no reason to tap on a glass or otherwise quiet the room beyond clearing his throat.
“Buenos días, señores y señoras.” He waited while everyone put down their forks and the room stilled completely. “As many of you are aware, there was an incident here at the resort last night.” His voice cracked. “In fact, it was the most tragic event that has ever taken place here at the Hacienda de la Fortuna.”
He waited for the inevitable chatter to die down.
“Naturally, there has been a lot of concern and speculation among our guests and staff as to the nature of what happened.” The room fell dead silent as Enrique pulled a tissue from his pocket, blew his nose, and took a moment to collect himself.
“A valued member of the Hacienda de la Fortuna family, who some of you had the pleasure of getting to know, was found last night in the Estanque Reflectante.” He waited for the gasps to die down before continuing. “The police conducted a thorough examination and have determined that, unfortunately, Alejandro had far too much to drink.”
“Word is his blood alcohol level was up there,” one of Philip’s police officer friends whispered from me beside me.
“I’m afraid he passed out, fell in the upper pool, and floated down under the bridge into the adjoining pool,” Enrique said, bowing his head as he relayed the story. “It is the most awful of tragedies.”
eight
So the local police had determined that Alejandro had died via accidental drowning, and Philip’s assorted law enforcement pals all seemed to concur:
I’m glad I’m on vacation because I hate dealing with drownings—those telltale glistening eyes always creep me out.
It’s the wrinkled skin that gets me.
Lucky he wasn’t there longer than an hour or so. Have you seen how the skin on the hands and feet start to come loose like gloves and socks?
While I wasn’t exactly relaxed about the whole thing, I felt somewhat relieved when Geo handed out a new call sheet.
“We were up all night strategizing and revising the schedule in light of everything that’s happened.”
“No swimming?” Trent asked.
“That wouldn’t be in the best of taste, seeing as they’re holding a poolside wake today,” Eloise said with sniff. “Now would it?”
Frank looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows and up at the gathering clouds. “Lighting’s not great, anyway.”
I forced myself not to react to Frank’s insensitive comment as I read through the call sheet. Not only had the timeshare signing and the swim shoot been canceled, but the revamped plan had us venturing off the hotel property entirely and heading into the nearby resort town for a newly created segment called “Bargaining, South-of-the-Border Style.”
“This makes sense,” I said, nodding as I read.
Geo smiled sympathetically in Enrique’s direction. “And it makes sense for all of us to get off the property to give the hotel staff some time to mourn without all the extra commotion.”
The shopping excursion, as it turned out, was for not just our family and the crew, but for all the wedding guests. We would pile into buses for an afternoon in town, followed by happy hour at a local cantina.
Before we left, however, tradition (and the call sheet) called for the time-honored tradition of showering the new couple with prosperity, fertility, and good fortune by dousing them in birdseed21 before they left for a water’s edge bridal suite at Casa Armonia, the Hacienda de la Fortuna’s sister resort ten miles down the coast.
The production assistants corralled everyone and had them stand together under the front portico of the hotel just in time for the getaway car, a white limo, to pull up.
Geo directed me to the limo door to deliver an impromptu tip about asking for complimentary car service when booking a bridal suite not only in Mexico, but anywhere in the world.
Anastasia and Philip appear
ed in the doorway just as I finished.
The crowd, eager to give the bride and groom a proper on-camera send-off, did a great job of providing the local birds with plenty to snack on for the next day or two.
As Philip paused for man hugs with his groomsmen, Anastasia’s sisters encircled her like schoolgirls for a group good-bye.
Just before they slipped into the limo together, Anastasia gave me a big hug.
“Are you doing okay?” she whispered. “I haven’t had a single moment to check in with you.”
“I’m fine,” I said, adding a smile in the midst of the on-camera pomp and circumstance.
“Really?” she asked. “Because I’m not sure I would be—not given everything you’ve been through over the past six months.”
While it wasn’t like I’d had any time to process how I really felt, something about her earnest expression gave me an extra dash of comfort.
“I can’t say it hasn’t been upsetting,” I said. “But I don’t want to let an unfortunate accident mar what has otherwise been a wonderful celebration.”
“I knew you were going to be a total pro,” she said, her voice cracking as she gave me a hug. “Thank you for being the best matron of honor ever.”
Other than a look I thought I saw pass between Hair, Body, and Face, it felt like one of the most genuine moments I’d experienced since I’d been down in Mexico.
The moment the limo was out of camera range, a sightseeing bus pulled up and we were off on an afternoon getaway of our own.
On the way into town, Felipe, our resident driver, provided color commentary:
This area, known as the Riviera Maya, was an important commercial and religious center for the ancient Mayans from about 1000 to 1550 A.D. Tulum, a Mayan fortress which many of you will get a chance to see over the next few days, was the most important population center from this era, but there were other key towns such as Xaman-Ha, now known as Playa del Carmen, where we are headed right now …
Despite the wealth of facts and figures, there was no missing the lack of inflection in Felipe’s voice, or the breaks he took, setting down his handheld speaker to blow his nose.
“My apologies,” he said at one point.
“No explanations necessary,” Geo said, patting him on the shoulder from his seat beside me in the front row. “We all understand.”
“I saw Ivan just before we left,” Eloise said from across the aisle where she sat beside Frank. “Did you know they’re setting up his body by the pool and taking turns keeping his soul company because he can’t be alone until he’s buried or something?”
FJ and Trent, seated across from her, rolled their eyes at their sister’s sudden in-the-know status.
“Interesting,” Trent deadpanned.
“Totally,” FJ added.
Liam, seated behind them, smiled conspiratorially.
“I mean, the whole thing is awful and everything,” I heard one of Anastasia’s other sisters whisper. “But if the pools are going to be closed and the staff is falling apart, maybe they should think about switching all of us over to the hotel where Stasia and Philip went.”
“Or give us some sort of credit or something,” another one said. “For our trauma and inconvenience.”
“Seriously,” the third said. “The only thing that hasn’t been rescheduled was my timeshare presentation.”
“Charming, aren’t they,” Geo whispered almost inaudibly in my ear. “Like Cinderella’s wicked stepsisters.”
“Here we are,” Felipe announced. “The shopping, restaurants, and nightlife all center around Fifth Avenue. Meet me back here at eight p.m. In the meantime, I wish you many bargains.”
“Bargaining, known here in Mexico as el regateo, has been an essential part of the business and social fabric for centuries,” I stated for the camera, curious locals, and the tourists who’d gathered to watch us outside a colorful knickknack shop. “Knowing when, where, and how to engage in negotiations can be a little tricky, especially for us foreigners, but here are a few dos and don’ts to help you on your way.”
“Great,” Geo said. “Now it’s time to have some fun.”
And despite the somber circumstances that had us in town, Geo and the crew managed to pull together a surprisingly lighthearted shoot.
The first camera segment was set up in front of a jewelry vendor where Eloise was already browsing, her face frozen in the snooty scowl she normally reserved for low-end shoe stores.
“How much?” she asked in English waving a pair of hoop earrings.
“Twenty American dollars,” the owner finally said, but without making eye contact.
“Ten,” she said.
“Nineteen,” he said.
“For a junky pair of earrings?” she sniffed. “They don’t even look like real silver.”
He shrugged. “That’s the price.”
“Perfect!” Geo said, stopping the action as soon as the vendor turned away from her. “Now, Maddie, you give some tips and then we’ll redo this whole scenario again the right way.”
The merchant, who seemed to be attracted to my stepdaughter’s assets, if not her attitude, sidled up beside her while Geo directed me to a spot where I was surrounded by stores and colorful merchandise.
As he was about to cue me to speak, I saw a woman standing in the midst of the crowd and found myself drawn in (much like a bull) by her traditional white top with red embroidery and matching bright red full skirt. Something about the pleading look in her eyes told me she wanted or needed something—likely to sell a few or all of the sombreros she was peddling.
“And action!” Geo said.
I quickly decided I would ask Geo to include her in one of the upcoming shots, smiled in her direction, and began: “In the more traditional parts of Mexico, almost everything is bargained for, but in the modern or tourist areas, the rules become less clear. Permanent storefronts and food sellers traditionally maintain fixed prices, but vendors on foot, in markets or booths, or at tables generally welcome bargaining. Another clue can be the presence or absence of price tags.”
Before I could start on the actual tips themselves, Trent and FJ bounded up as if the cameras weren’t there.
Liam watched from outside the shot.
“Hola,” FJ said to the owner.
“Hola,” he smiled, leaving Eloise’s side and appearing on camera once again. “Cómo estàs?”
“Estoy bien, y tú?” FJ answered in his best high school Spanish.
“Mom would like this,” Trent said, holding up a turquoise bracelet that had, in fact, caught my eye. “Don’t you think?”
“I don’t think we’ll have enough money to buy it,” FJ said with a sigh. “It looks pretty expensive.”
“Cuánto cuesta, por favor?” Trent asked.
“Twenty-five dollars American,” the vendor said in English.
“I’m afraid that’s just too much,” FJ said, also in English.
The vendor smiled, stealing a glance at Eloise’s legs. “How much can you spend?”
“Fifteen dollars,” Trent blurted.
“Fifteen dollars?” the vendor said, sounding insulted by the mere mention of such an unthinkable price.
“I know it’s worth more than that,” FJ added, brushing a humidity-curled lock of hair out of his eyes. “But it’s all we have on us.”
The boys looked convincingly disappointed as Trent returned the bracelet to its resting spot amongst a group of similar baubles.
“I can tell you are nice boys,” the vendor said, lifting the bracelet by the clasp. “Fifteen is okay.”
“Really?”
As the vendor nodded, Geo nodded in my direction to finish my spiel.
“You are likely to have the most success and fetch the best possible prices by following a few simple guidelines,” I said, noting that the sombrero lady had, unfortunately, disappeared before I could help contribute to her daily earnings. “First, if you can, make a little small talk in Spanish as a show of respect. Second,
keep a positive attitude. Bargaining is a friendly game of skill and wit, and you’ll catch more bees and lower prices with honey. And lastly, don’t insult the merchandise unless there is truly a flaw for which you are asking a discount. It’s okay to say something’s too much, but you are better off addressing your lack of willingness to pay the asking price than discrediting the item itself.”
In a manner uncharacteristic of our usual hectic schedule, Geo and the crew took their time setting up interesting and colorful spots for the remainder of our afternoon bargaining shoot. Like somewhat normal tourists, we took our time with on-camera bargaining, pointing out pitfalls.
Frank was sent into a hat store with a roll of bills and instructed to say, “I only have two hundred pesos,” but pull a 500-peso note out of his wallet to highlight a big bargaining faux pas.
The boys did a setup in a shop full of key chains, coffee mugs, blankets, and assorted local merchandise. They asked what they could get for a dollar, and I added a bit of color commentary while they transacted their deals.
“There are no fixed rules about where to start your initial low bid. The trick is to know what you are willing to pay and then try to make that price your mid-point between the initial asking price and your first offer.”
Eloise had the best poker face and Frank the worst, so they were sent off together—Eloise to specifically act lukewarm over a leather bag she really wanted, and Frank to gush over a belt and buckle he just had to have for an upcoming Western-themed fundraiser we were scheduled to emcee together.
I was enjoying both of their admirable acting jobs. Eloise examined the bag for quality before negotiating the price, and Frank balanced out his natural tendency to be impulsive by warming up the store owner with some friendly chitchat. In fact, I’d relaxed enough to set aside some of the tumult of the past twenty-four hours when Hair, Face, and Body chanced into the T-shirt shop beside the leather goods store where we were doing our shoot.
“So two-faced,” Geo whispered from beside me, glancing over at them. “Or three-faced, I guess I should say.”
“How so?”
“For one thing, they act all happy when they’re really jealous and pissed.”
Sweetheart Deal Page 6