by Louise Bay
I traced circles on the tray with my drink, chasing the droplets of damp that had settled on the bottom of my glass. “And you know that all I want is for us to be happy.”
Kennedy shoved her magazine in the back of the seat. “Where are you going with this?”
“I’m just saying, this might be a little … rustic.” Was rustic a description ambiguous enough that I wasn’t actually lying? “But I think we’ll look back and say the next five days changed our lives.”
Kennedy hunched back into her chair. “Unless I get thrown from a horse or bitten by a snake, I’m pretty sure a few nights in Oklahoma isn’t going to change my life.”
“Then you’ve got nothing to lose,” I said, though I sincerely hoped the trip would change me. I wanted to stop getting engaged and get to the next part of my life. I needed a guy who would propose and actually marry me.
All you need is love, my ass. Fuck you, John Lennon, you lying asshole.
“Holy crap, it really is the middle of nowhere. Look.” Rose pointed out the window as we descended through the clouds. The land was flat and dry and yellow like someone had cracked open the sun and it had poured all over the floor. Brown scorch lines crisscrossed the ground and the colors bled up into the azure blue of the sky. It was as if Rothko had been in charge of designing this state. It was shocking—almost confusing, it was so unexpected. Most of all, it was different. The hope that had buried itself deep in my gut when I booked this retreat began to bloom.
“We’re not in Boston anymore, Toto,” Kennedy said.
“Exactly. It’s something and somewhere new. Where we can all get back on track.”
“I’m fine on the track I’m on, thank you,” Kennedy said.
“You know you can’t keep bed hopping.” Kennedy didn’t believe in commitment and to her, commitment was a second date.
She shrugged. “Why not? Maybe I like it.”
Rose and I exchanged glances. Both of us had been worried that Kennedy was a bit off recently. The boys didn’t seem exciting to her anymore—the chase more of a chore than anything else. She seemed to have lost her mojo. “I just want something more for you. I want something more for me,” I said.
Rose sighed as her hands flopped into her lap. “I’m so sick of banging assholes.”
“Like with a strap-on?” I whispered, half joking but also slightly concerned with the answer I was likely to get. My sex life seemed plain vanilla compared to my friends, and I wondered whether my lack of … color … in the bedroom was what drove men away. Perhaps I should have suggested something more inventive to Phil. Maybe he’d wanted more.
Kennedy chuckled, clearly listening to every word.
“Urgh. No.” Rose pushed my arm. “You’re such a pervert. I mean figuratively.”
“You should try not fucking your boss. Then, when he dumps you, you might not have to quit,” Kennedy said.
The woman in front of us turned and shot us a filthy look. Sorry, I mouthed. Kennedy had always been as liberal with F-bombs as she was with her body.
Rose tilted her head to one side as if considering Kennedy’s suggestion. “It’s not like I plan it.”
“An alcoholic doesn’t plan to get drunk,” I replied, sipping my gin. “You need to plan not to sleep with your boss.” Nothing good came from not having a plan.
Kennedy twisted to face me. “I’m pretty sure alcoholics plan to drink a lot of the time.”
“Don’t be pedantic, you know what I mean.”
“No, I really don’t. We’re not alcoholics,” Kennedy said, throwing back the rest of her drink.
“No, you’re a sexaholic. And you”—I pointed at Rose—“are a bossaholic.”
“You seem very sure about our problems but I don’t see you with everything figured out. So, what’s your diagnosis on yourself?” Rose asked. “An engagementaholic?”
She was right, but the comment still stung, especially coming from Rose, who was the most forgiving of the three of us. But that wasn’t my problem. Staying engaged was my issue. “I’m a loveaholic.” I knew the disease from which I was suffering. I just needed the cure.
Kennedy rolled her eyes then leaned across Rose toward me.
“You”—she poked my leg—“are an everything-needs-to-follow-the-plan-aholic. Or a Perfectaholic. Ain’t nothing to do with love.”
“Whatever,” I said, ignoring her. She was always giving me shit about my plan, about wanting certain things by certain times, but how else was I supposed to get things done? I’d met great guys in my life and had been lucky enough to fall in love a number of times, but that hadn’t been enough. They hadn’t stayed. If Kennedy was right and I was a perfectaholic, I’d have figured out how to be the perfect girlfriend, perfect fiancée, perfect wife. I’d be married already.
The seatbelt sign came on and the cabin filled with the rustle of people packing bags and readjusting their seats. It wouldn’t be long now and things would begin to change. This was the start of my perfect life.
Love Rehab is going to fix everything.
It was going to happen.
I just had to have a little faith.
And last five days in Oklahoma.
Mackenzie
We opened the truck doors and slid out. My butt was almost numb from the two-hour drive from the airport. I squinted in the sun to see a stone and timber ranch house, more glamorous than I’d dared to imagine.
This was it. Love Rehab.
A woman not much older than us came onto the huge wraparound porch and waved. “Hey y’all. Welcome to McKenna Ranch. My name’s Brianna.” Nerves twisted with excitement and began to jangle in my stomach. Five days here and things were going to get better.
Forgetting our luggage, I led the way, desperate to meet the woman in whose hands I was placing my destiny. As soon as I climbed the porch steps, Brianna hugged me like we were all long-lost friends. She may have hit thirty, but she wasn’t far past it. Glossy hair, natural makeup and dressed in jeans and a yellow blouse.
“My brother Barrett is here.” She pointed at a tall man walking across the drive wearing what seemed to be a regulation cowboy hat. “And he’ll take your bags up to your room while the four of us have a little talk. Follow me.”
I turned to make sure Rose and Kennedy were following us to find Rose fixated on Barrett’s ass as he grabbed our cases from the truck. Cowboys didn’t do it for me. I’d never date a man who could accessorize better than I could.
The A/C was a relief as soon as we stepped inside the ranch house. Brianna’s smile seemed permanent, but somehow she made it feel authentic. Maybe she was returning my wide grin. I couldn’t help myself. I was so relieved to be here and onto the next step, which would take me where I wanted to go.
Brianna led us into a large living room with a huge brick inglenook fireplace. The ceilings were vaulted and looked like they were made of oak. Everything looked solid and calm. Warm and homemade. As if I could be safe here. If it had been decorated differently, it could have been in an interior decorating magazine. The way it was, with the overstuffed couches, clashing pillows and the bright tapestries on the walls, it welcomed you in and invited you to kick off your shoes and take a seat.
“I know you just arrived, but before you get settled I wanted to give you an overview of what y’all are to expect during your visit.” Brianna indicated toward a long couch opposite the fireplace. The three of us sat down next to each other. A jug of iced tea sat on a tray on the table in front of us. “Now, I’m just going to cut straight to it—I’m not great with the small talk.” Brianna perched on a stool on the other side of the table and began to pour out the tea. “I like to get down and dirty early.” She cocked her shoulder and gave a little wink and I had to stifle a giggle. “I want y’all to know that I never mean any offense, but I’m here to help, and sometimes that calls for a little tough love, but it always comes from my heart.” She pressed her palm against her breastbone as she spoke. “I may have all the pieces of paper signed by the right
professors from a great school, but I’m good at this because I’ve been in exactly the same place as y’all are in now.”
Brianna smiled and her gaze flitted between the three of us as she passed us our drinks. “You’re probably wondering where Mr. Right is.” Guilty. “You’ve no doubt had a couple of tryouts that didn’t go too well.” You think? “Maybe you’ve had your heart broken a few times.” Broken? Bruised certainly. Brianna’s eyes were wide as she spoke. “Well, I’ve been there. I thought I’d marry my college sweetheart after graduation and that I’d be a mother several times over by the time I was twenty-five, but it didn’t happen like that. Believe me, when you walk in on your fiancé getting a blowjob from a woman your mama’s age, it makes you think about the things you’d always wished for.”
Kennedy coughed as she took a sip of her drink but Brianna continued to grin as if she’d just given us a recipe for blackberry pie. She looked pretty happy about being cheated on. Maybe it was an Oklahoma thing. At least Phil hadn’t dumped me for someone else, as far as I knew.
Brianna sat forward a little. “And I almost gave up. I stopped trusting. I shut my heart down. That was until I started to think a different way and see myself in a better light. And that’s what I want to do for you girls—I want to bring out your inner goddess.” Goddess? Really? “To infuse some Oklahoma air into your city lungs”—she flicked her fingers into the air—“add in a dash of magic and see where we get to at the end of our five days together. If you trust me, you’ll leave happier than when you arrived. It’s as simple as that. What do y’all say?”
I had little to lose. We were here now. I nodded. “Sounds great.” There just hadn’t been much detail—just talk of magic and goddesses. I wanted to know exactly what we’d be doing. When would we get the lessons on how to be better at figuring out what men wanted? Since no one else asked, I let it go. I just wanted to get started—I needed my plan back on track.
“Keep open minds for five days and I promise you, your love lives will go from car crash to glass carriage. But I’m gonna need your trust. That means you too, Kennedy. I can see I’ll have to win you over but that’s my specialty.” She’d rightly worked out that Kennedy was the most cynical of us.
Kennedy shrugged.
“If you like, Barrett will take you to the local bar in thirty minutes. It’s just a mile or so down the road.”
“Wow, we’re husband shopping already?” I asked.
“Shoot some pool and whiskey, have a good evening, and then come back here, ready for the rest of your trip without alcohol, high heels or cell phones.”
“Say what?” Kennedy said. “No phones?”
I grimaced. The wrath of Kennedy wasn’t to be underestimated. But also, what if Phil called? Wanted to talk? Perhaps I’d been rash, bringing us all here to the middle of nowhere.
“We don’t get much reception here anyway,” Brianna said, standing up and brushing off her jeans.
Kennedy’s glare bored into the side of my face. She was pissed but I was nervous. I’d not expected to be uncontactable.
“No cell phones?” she growled in my ear.
“Honey, you’re not going to need any of that, believe me.” Brianna walked over to a large wooden chest and pulled out several bags. “Put all the essentials for camping in here.” She handed us each a backpack. “Then pack the rest up in your suitcase and leave it in your room. We’re getting back to basics, girls. Trust me, we’ll have so much fun.”
Kennedy and Rose both looked like they’d taken a punch to the stomach. I’m sure the expression on my face wasn’t too different.
“So, one last night of freedom before we enter the French Foreign Legion?” Kennedy asked.
“Think of it as one last night before you start fresh tomorrow.” Brianna slapped her thighs and turned toward the staircase. “Your room is up the stairs, second on the left. Make sure y’all are down here at six tomorrow morning, hung over or otherwise, and bring your phones and wallets. I’ll lock them away for safekeeping.”
“You’re not going to give us a few more details about what to expect?” Rose asked.
“Now what would be the fun in that?” Brianna responded with a small laugh.
“I’m going to kill you,” Kennedy said when Brianna left.
“Lighten up, anyone would think your phone doubled as your vibrator,” I said. “It’s five days.” Phil would wait, right? I mean if he wanted me back, a few days wouldn’t matter, would they?
“We’ve just got to make the most of it.” Rose was ever practical. “It might be fun. It’s not like we’ll have anyone to impress with makeup and cute outfits,” she said as we headed to the stairs.
“I bet we can find a few hot cowboys tonight. Barrett is all man,” Kennedy said, nudging me with her shoulder. “I’m sure he has some eligible friends. Then we can kill Mackenzie.”
“Hey, she’s trying to fix our love lives. It could be worse,” Rose said. “At least we know she means well.”
“I keep telling you, I’m happy with my love life. Who said that we’ve all got to settle down, get married and start popping out babies, anyway?”
Kennedy talked a good game, but we all knew she used sex as a way of keeping men at arm’s length.
“I’m going to get laid tonight. And you know what? I’m gonna get you guys laid too. That’ll cure you of your so-called loveaholicism and your bossaholicism.”
“I’m happy to try both. I’m giving myself up to the universe.” Rose laughed.
“And the local hottie,” Kennedy added.
“Come on. Let’s make the most of our lip gloss,” I said as we took the stairs. I liked my home comforts as much as Kennedy and Rose, but I was willing to give them up for a few days to get my plan back on track. Phil might not call, ever. And if he didn’t then at least I’d have learned how to be a better girlfriend for the next guy.
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Barrett pulled to a stop on the main road outside a bar called Jimmy’s. It looked like we were in the center of town. There was a gas station across the street and a convenience store next to the bar, along with a couple of other stores that didn’t have their lights on. It seemed like this was it. Christie, Oklahoma.
A few trucks were parked on the lot of Jimmy’s but there were no people. Not even a stoplight. If a piece of tumbleweed crossed our path that second, I wouldn’t have been surprised. I’d grown up in Boston, where there were no end of bright lights and hustle and bustle. I couldn’t imagine what growing up here would be like. It seemed so far away from Boston in every sense that doubt started to creep in. How could anything I learned here be applicable back in the real world?
Barrett leaned across Kennedy, who had insisted on riding in the front, and reached into the glove box. “Here.” He tossed a flashlight onto her lap. “Remember to turn right out of Jimmy’s and keep going until you get back to the ranch.”
“You’re not coming with us?” Kennedy asked as we climbed out of the truck.
“Nope.”
“Maybe pop in for a drink later. I’d love to hear all about what y’all do for fun around here.” Kennedy picked an imaginary piece of lint from Barrett’s sleeve and I rolled my eyes at her less-than-subtle flirting. She might as well just come right out and suggest they get naked and do the horizontal conga.
Barrett’s eyes remained fixed on the windshield as we climbed out of the truck. The warmth was a shock after even a few minutes in the air conditioning. I stood and tilted my head back. What they didn’t have in people they made up for in stars. I didn’t know there were that many in the sky.
“Will we be safe?” Rose asked, fiddling with her glasses.
“As long as the coyotes don’t get y’all,” Barrett replied and he sped off into the dark.
“If we get eaten by coyotes, I’m going to let Kennedy kill you,” Rose said.
“Drink enough vodka, and the coyotes won’t eat you. They don’t like the smell. I read that somewhere,” I said, gra
sping at straws. Hopefully if we were all drunk enough, the idea of being eaten by wild animals would be forgotten.
“Sounds like a reason to get hammered,” Kennedy said.
As we neared the entrance to the bar, the sound of laughter echoed around us. We exchanged grins. The three of us together could have fun in a garbage bag. Oklahoma would be no different.
The hazy yellow light made the bar look like a another world. “What the fuck?” Kennedy said as she stepped through the door behind me. Ninety percent of the patrons were men dressed in jeans and cowboy hats. It looked like a bar I’d seen in a Clint Eastwood film. Dim lighting, a jukebox in the corner, a pool table on the opposite wall. Boston hadn’t seen a place like this since 1976.
“What were you expecting?” I asked. “Neon and cocktails? I’ll get the drinks. You find a seat.”
Some sad country song played in the background as I made my way to the bar.
Most of the stools by the L-shaped bar were taken, but I squeezed between two men and tried to get the bartender’s attention. I wasn’t about to make a fool of myself and order a cosmo, but I wasn’t sure what would be acceptable. I glanced over at Kennedy and Rose. Perhaps I should have left the drink buying to someone else. There were a million types of whiskey lined up on the wooden shelves behind the bar. I stood on tiptoes, trying to see if there were any fridges with wine in them below the rows of whiskey.
I’d have thought a place like this would have a gray-haired guy in a plaid shirt who’d eaten too many steaks serving behind the bar, but the girl was in her thirties, hot, in an androgynous kind of way, and wore a surly expression. I smiled when I caught her eye but she ignored me and continued to chat to one of the customers nearer the door. Maybe there was table service?
“Excuse me, sir,” I said to the older gentleman with a huge moustache next to me. “Is there table service, or should I just wait here?”