Their group wasn’t perfect, of course. Allie sensed Savannah grated on Pauline; little clues—like Pauline’s overly formal response to Savannah’s compliment about the soup—were seeping out. But Pauline hid it well. The others might not have even seen the annoyance that had briefly flashed in Pauline’s eyes.
Savannah finally wrapped up a story about a brother and sister who’d squabbled nonstop during the sale of their parents’ home, before breaking down and sobbing on the day the final papers were signed, delaying the proceedings by nearly an hour as they apologized for all their transgressions against each other, down to the time the brother had falsely blamed the sister for knocking over the family Christmas tree when they were five years old.
“Do you have any siblings, Pauline?” Allie broke in when Savannah paused to take a sip of chardonnay.
Pauline dabbed her lips with her napkin before answering. “Just one,” she said. “An older sister.”
“Are you close?” Allie asked.
“Not particularly,” Pauline said.
It seemed like a perfectly normal question, but had she overstepped? Allie wondered. Pauline’s voice had seemed . . . strained.
“How about you, Allie? Any siblings?” Pauline asked.
“No,” Allie said. She must’ve been imagining things; Pauline sounded perfectly normal now. “I’m adopted, and my parents wanted another child, but it never worked out. We live just a few minutes away from them.”
“Which is nice, because we have built-in babysitters,” Ryan said. He winked. “They don’t even charge us that much.”
“Are they taking care of the kids while you’re on this trip?” Pauline asked.
“Yep,” Ryan said.
“They’ve got my kids, too,” Tina said. “I hope it’s not too overwhelm—— No! You know what? I’m not going to feel guilty. Not tonight.”
Savannah lifted her glass. “Good for you! To shameless self-absorption!”
Tina laughed and clinked her glass against Savannah’s. “To over-the-top indulgence!”
“To gluttony!” Ryan shouted, getting into it.
“To—to . . .” Dwight began, then he stopped and silence filled the room.
“To . . . d-debauchery and hedonism!” he finally shouted, and everyone cheered.
The waiter cleared the plates and brought in dessert. When Allie’s fork broke the crust of her little cake, molten chocolate ran out. She speared one of the raspberries rimming her plate and swirled it in the chocolate, then almost moaned in delight as the flavors exploded on her tongue.
“So after we finish massacring this meal,” Savannah said, “would anyone be up for a moonlight swim? Or maybe a soak in the hot tub?”
“Me!” Tina shouted.
“Who else?” Savannah asked. “Dwight? You in?”
“Sure,” he said.
“What a perfect way to end the night,” Pauline said.
“Oh, it’s only nine-thirty,” Savannah said. “The night’s just beginning.”
Allie hid a yawn. True, it was relatively early—but they’d traveled half the day, including the bumpy Jeep ride to the villa in Negril, and they’d been drinking since morning. Plus so much time in the sun and water, combined with the sleepless nights of the past few weeks, had made her feel so drowsy she wanted to drop her head onto the table and drift off.
“C’mon, guys, we’re in Jamaica, not on a seniors’ cruise,” Savannah said, looking around the table.
“She’s right,” Gio said. “Strap one on, people.”
“That’s the spirit,” Savannah said. “I’m thinking a game of pool, a dip in the hot tub, maybe a visit to that tiki bar on the beach . . . Oh, and I brought this for you, Dwight.”
She reached under her chair and held out a small square package wrapped in green foil.
“It’s just a little gift,” she said. “Something I thought we might enjoy this week.”
Dwight tore open the paper, revealing a homemade CD.
“I burned the songs. They’re all from the nineties,” Savannah said. “College music.”
“That was really nice of you,” Allie said.
“I couldn’t risk leaving the music to chance,” Savannah said. “If this house was stocked with inadequate tunes, I’d have trouble dancing. And you know how much I love to dance.”
“ ‘Closing Time’ . . . ‘Baby Got Back’!” Dwight read. “ ‘Then the Morning Comes’ . . . How does that one go again?”
“The Smash Mouth song? . . . ‘Paint the town, take a bow. Thank everybody, you’re gonna do it again. You are the few, the proud, you are the antibody . . .’ ” Ryan sang.
“Hey, our boy can sing!” Savannah said. “Do we have a karaoke machine in the house?”
“We could get one,” Pauline said. “I’ll have it delivered tomorrow.”
“A woman of action!” Savannah cried. “That’s what I like to see!”
Allie thanked the waiter as he refilled her wineglass. Unlike people who loved to debate buttery notes and subtle finishes, she’d never appreciated wine, but she knew one thing: This stuff was good. It tasted so different from the chardonnay she bought at the grocery store and kept in the fridge.
She closed her eyes and took another sip, trying to tease out the hint of lime and the peppery notes the waiter had described, but instead her mind again fluttered to an image of the piece of paper hidden in her toiletries case. Suddenly she was wide awake.
“ ‘I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing’ by Aerosmith . . .” Dwight read. “Thanks, Van.”
“Can’t have a reunion without a sound track,” Savannah said. “And speaking of not missing a thing—sleep can wait. Who’s ready for a little ass kicking in a game of pool?”
“Me, me, me!” Tina shouted. “I want to play!”
“Wait, Tina, I’m confused,” Ryan cracked. “Are you in or not?”
“Champagne, everyone?” Pauline offered, as the waiter stood by, ready to uncork a bottle of Cristal. “It’s from 1978, the year Dwight was born.”
Savannah was right, Allie decided, holding out her glass. They should stay up. The last thing she wanted right now was to close her eyes in the darkness.
Chapter Six
* * *
Monday
THE DAY WAS ALMOST surreal in its perfection, Savannah thought. The tropical storm was carrying rain and wind ever closer to them, but it seemed hard to believe now. The sky was an endless swath of blue, and sunlight glinted against the water, creating countless, tiny reflections so bright they almost hurt the eye.
Savannah’s skin felt warm, but not uncomfortably so, because the catamaran caught a breeze as it cut through the Caribbean Sea. She leaned back against the fiberglass hull, her eyes shielded by dark sunglasses as she watched a twentysomething crewman let out a sail. He wore nothing but bright red bathing trunks. The muscles in his back flexed as he tugged on the ropes, and his dark skin gleamed from the spray of seawater.
He’ll do, she thought as she took a sip of her pineapple spritzer. He’ll do quite nicely.
She’d set a goal for herself this morning: She needed to have sex on this trip. She’d been intimate with only one guy since Gary—a clichéd fling with her personal trainer, who could’ve used some of the endurance he was always preaching about to his clients—and she was horny. And didn’t women hit their sexual peaks in their midthirties? That settled it; she wasn’t going to get back on Dwight’s plane again until she’d rolled around in the sand with a hot guy.
Allie was leaning back, snapping pictures of Dwight as he stared out at the water. Savannah glanced over at Tina and Gio, sprawled a few feet away. Tina’s eyes were closed against the sun, but she seemed to sense Savannah’s gaze and opened them. Savannah raised her sunglasses, glanced pointedly at Dwight, then stuck out her tongue and wiggled it.
When she looked back, Tina was glaring at her.
Stop it! Tina mouthed.
Savannah winked, then dropped her sunglasses back down. She still couldn’
t believe what Tina had revealed this morning. It made one look at Dwight in a whole new light. She closed her eyes, feeling drowsy from the sun and the effects of last night’s alcohol, as she recalled the conversation:
Savannah had been asleep when Tina knocked on her door.
“Go away,” Savannah had muttered, burying her head under her pillow.
“Wake up, Little Miss Sunshine,” Tina had said, bustling right in. She’d opened the blinds, and light had flooded the room.
“Jesus, Tina, I’m not one of your fourteen children,” Savannah had said, but there was a smile in her voice. “What time is it, you sadist?”
“Nine,” Tina had said. “And we’re going snorkeling in an hour.”
Savannah had lifted her head up and rolled over. Images of the previous night had drifted back to her: There was a game of pool, girls versus guys. Maybe two games? And they’d blared Dwight’s CD . . . more champagne had been brought out. Had someone dumped a bit on Dwight’s head, like they did in locker rooms after a winning football game? Oh, right, that was her . . . There had been dancing, lots of dancing on the patio by the pool. Ryan had fallen in at one point, but he’d managed to hold up his beer and hadn’t spilled a drop, which made everyone cheer . . . Oh, and she’d tried to teach Dwight to salsa, but they both kept laughing too hard. Luckily, Pauline had gone to bed by then; somehow Savannah knew she wouldn’t have approved.
“Are you feeling okay?” Tina was asking.
Savannah had slowly sat up, wincing. “Why is a heavy-metal drummer practicing on my temples? And is everyone else up?”
Tina had nodded. “Allie went for a jog.”
“Now there’s a shocker.”
“And the boys are devouring breakfast. The chef is doing individual omelets.”
“Pigs. I’m still full from last night,” Savannah had said. She’d stretched her arms over her head. “Okay, okay, I’m getting up. Just tell me they have coffee ready.”
“Cappuccinos and lattes,” Tina had confirmed. “Plus fresh-squeezed juice.”
“I knew I should’ve married Dwight when I had the chance,” Savannah had cracked.
“Hey, I’m the one that made out with him,” Tina had said.
“Oh, my God, I’d totally forgotten about that!” Savannah had said. She’d winced and massaged her forehead with her thumb and index finger. “Remind me again. What happened, exactly?”
Tina had glanced toward the open door, then she’d moved closer, to sit on the edge of Savannah’s bed. “It was at that Pi Kappa Phi party right before graduation. Allie brought Dwight along, and Gio and I were fighting about something stupid. We were taking a little break.”
“Oh, sure, try and justify it,” Savannah had teased. This sounded juicier than she’d remembered.
“I started drinking tequila shots, which for the record, you should never do when you’re pissed off at your boyfriend,” Tina had said. “I was in a crappy mood, and everyone else was dancing and having fun, and then Dwight came over to the bar to hang out with me. I poured him a shot.”
“The plot thickens,” Savannah had said as she mock-leered.
“I got really drunk—”
“Ah, the old tequila goggles excuse.”
“—and Dwight walked me home. He came into my room . . . Allie was still at the party. And he was so sweet. He took off my shoes.”
“What about your panties?” Savannah had asked, and Tina had thrown a pillow at her.
“Van! Shhh! Anyway, suddenly I realized I hadn’t kissed that many guys in my life. I mean, my high school boyfriend, and two boys in college before I met Gio. But that was it. And I felt like I was, I don’t know, maybe missing out. So I just grabbed Dwight and went for it.”
“Was it like kissing your brother?” Savannah had asked, wrinkling her nose. “I love Dwight, but the sex appeal bus completely passed his stop.”
“Actually . . .” Tina had said, drawing out the word. “His lips were really soft.”
“Seriously?” Savannah had felt her eyebrows lift toward the ceiling. She couldn’t believe she’d never grilled Tina about this before.
“Uh-huh. And he was so gentle. He kissed me really slowly.”
“I figured he’d be so eager he’d be all tongue and slobber,” Savannah had said.
“Van!” Tina had chastised her. “Not at all. He was a good kisser!”
“Well, well,” Savannah had said. “You know, he does have nice lips, come to think of it. Full.”
“I’m telling you,” Tina had said. Was she blushing? Savannah had considered her: Tina had been a fun girl in college, but lately she’d seemed as worn-out as an old-time photo. Even her voice had changed—had become more reedy and anxious since she’d started popping out kids. Since they lived a few states apart, they didn’t see each other all that often, but every time they did, Tina had slipped a bit more. Comfort had long ago beaten the crap out of style when it came to her clothes, and her hair was always a mess.
But Tina looked different now. She wore a peach-colored cover-up with a V-neck that complimented her deep tan. Her eyes were bright, and she couldn’t stop giggling. Sure, she had a few more lines around her eyes and pounds around her middle, but it was as if the old Tina—or make that the young Tina—was finally back.
“Did you do anything else? Lunge for his package?”
Tina had laughed. “I wasn’t a hussy like you back then. We just kissed.”
“You’re blushing,” Savannah had said.
“I am not,” Tina had said as she turned redder. “It’s sunburn!”
“Who knew you had it in you, Tina Antonelli? You’ve got a smoking hot hubby and you made out with our millionaire host. It must be your fertile loins.”
Tina was holding her stomach and laughing so hard she almost fell off the bed. But then a sound had made her jerk upright: a knock on the open door.
“I figured you might need a cappuccino,” Pauline had said, bringing one into the room on a silver tray. “It was a late night.”
Savannah had sat up straighter. “How’d you know that’s just what I was craving? Thank you, Pauline.”
She’d glanced at Tina, who was displaying an intense interest in the fringe on a throw pillow.
“I’ll leave it on the nightstand,” Pauline had said. “Meet you in the dining room whenever you’re ready.”
Tina had kept her head down until the door clicked shut behind Pauline. “Oh, my God . . . that was bad. She heard, didn’t she?”
“No way,” Savannah had said, even though she wasn’t sure. Pauline hadn’t looked at Tina when she entered the room, not once. And the door had closed a tad sharply.
“The door was open! She was standing right there! She totally heard,” Tina had moaned. She’d flopped backward on the bed and covered her eyes with her arm. “She thinks I’m going to make a play for her husband. Do you think she’ll say something to Dwight?”
“Oh, come on,” Savannah had said. “She was probably flattered. I’d be.”
“You know, I never told Gio,” Tina had said. “I mean, we were on a break! And it was just kissing. Shit, what if she says something?”
Savannah had rolled her eyes. “Come on, you think Gio would really be upset about a kiss from fifteen years ago?”
“He can be a little jealous,” Tina had said. “Not that he has any reason to be. Things between us are great, really.”
Savannah had reached for her cappuccino and taken a long sip, already a little bored with the new direction of this conversation. She could taste the Splenda; how did Pauline know it was her preferred sweetener? She must’ve asked Allie, or maybe she’d just intuited it. That woman could send Martha Stewart into intensive therapy for feelings of domestic inadequacy.
“Savannah? What do you think I should do?” Tina was nibbling on a fingernail.
“Stop it,” Savannah had said, batting Tina’s hand out of her mouth. “You just got a manicure, for Christ’s sake. Look, it’s no big deal. Pauline didn’t he
ar, and if she did, it’ll probably give her a giggle. It’s already over. Now let’s throw on bathing suits and go hit that boat.”
She’d known her voice sounded brusque, but it was ridiculous, really. Tina thought this was an actual problem? She’d just said it herself: Things with her gorgeous husband were great. And it wasn’t as if Savannah hadn’t noticed the way Gio had pulled Tina onto his lap in the hot tub, and the look they’d given each other as they left “to get another drink,” before they’d returned ten minutes later.
Remembering it now, Savannah glanced back over at Tina and Gio beside her on the boat. His hand was resting on her bare thigh. That man was a stallion; how come she’d never noticed that before, either? Or maybe she was just so horny that every guy around looked good to her now. She lifted her arms over her head and stretched her midsection toward the sky, feeling a satisfying little pop in her spine. Did she imagine it, or had the young crewman done a double take?
She had five more days to get laid, she reminded herself. Not a lot of time, but then, she’d always liked a challenge.
The crewman pulled in the sail in preparation to slow the boat before they dropped anchor while Pauline pointed out the snorkeling equipment and told everyone a beautiful tropical reef lay just ahead of them. All she needed was a red umbrella and she’d be the perfect tour guide, Savannah thought.
Savannah was the first one to grab a mask, slip on fins, and drop into the sea. For a few minutes, she floated on her back, letting the cool water bubble up over her shoulders as thoughts flitted through her mind like silverfish.
In another few months, she’d meet her divorce lawyer to sign the final papers. Gary would be there, too, of course, with his attorney by his side. Would he marry The Nurse as soon as he was free? What would it feel like to see him again? Savannah wondered if there would be a last gesture, like a final overpriced latte, a good-bye cocktail, or a farewell fuck. Whatever it was, she decided, Gary would pay for it—in one way or another. She wouldn’t consider sleeping with him, except she loved the idea of Gary going back to The Nurse with Savannah’s perfume all over him.
The Best of Us Page 9