Chapter Two
A CHORUS OF SQUEALS ROSE up as I walked over to the check-in area of Palm Beach International Airport. My best friends from college, Candice and Kelly, were standing near the Delta line.
“You made it!” yelled Candice, running towards me, paying zero attention to the bystanders staring at her. This was her usual way of making it through life. Oblivious. Loud. Ready to party at a moment’s notice. She came on tiptoes, her shoes making any other type of walking impossible. She is the most lovable airhead I’ve ever known.
“Ooph.” Her surgically enhanced chest slammed into mine, knocking some of the air out of my lungs. “Miss me?” I asked over her shoulder, my eyes crossing just a little.
“Oh my god, yes.” She squeezed me hard once and pulled away. “You hibernate in that office of yours all week long, every weekend, and then you spend all your free time with Puke. Of course I miss you.”
“It’s Luke, and I went to lunch with you just last week.” I stepped back, picking up the overnight bag I’d dropped on the ground by my feet and putting the strap over my shoulder. “You know I have to make partner …”
“…By the time you’re thirty. I know, I know, I know. It’s going to be engraved on your headstone.” She put her arm through mine, leaning in and sniffing me. She did that all the time, always on the lookout for her next favorite perfume.
“Headstone? Hopefully, I’ll be partner at the firm by the time I have that little depressing ornament over my head.” I glanced sideways at her, smiling secretly over the fact that her lips looked like they’d been stung by wasps again. Once Candice discovered collagen a few years ago, she’d never gone back. One of her favorite sayings is ‘thin lips sink ships’ which makes complete sense to her; she doesn’t care that it doesn’t to anyone else. I’ve never asked for clarification of the ‘ships’ part of that equation because sometimes her thought processes give me headaches they’re so asinine. But as goofy as she can be, she’s still one-half of my best friend whole. Candice, Kelly, and I were known as the three amigas in college and that hadn’t changed, even though our lives couldn’t be more different now.
We walked over to the counter to join Kelly. She was having an animated conversation with the wispy-looking male ticket agent, first waving her arms around and then putting her hands in praying position. She looked like a regular church lady with her button down blouse and neatly-pressed khaki pants. Love had mellowed her out since college, but under that conservative, polished veneer was a crazy girl who used to dye her hair purple and do shots of tequila off male-stripper stomachs.
Candice snorted at the claim I was laying on my future partnership. “I’ve told you a hundred times. You won’t make partner by the time you’re thirty if you don’t get out more. My cousin’s cousin’s husband’s brother died of a heart attack when he was only twenty-eight. Twenty-eight!”
“You’re cousin’s cousin’s husband’s sister’s … whatever … had a heart defect, and you’ve told me before he got chicken pox so bad he was hospitalized, so I’m pretty sure him not being a female lawyer working a few extra hours a week didn’t contribute to his death.”
“Just shut up and come with me. Kelly’s trying to get us an upgrade.”
I followed Candice to the counter and listened with amusement as Kelly tried to charm the obviously gay man into giving us an upgrade she didn’t have the frequent flyer miles for.
“Please, pleasepleasepleaseplease pleeeeaaase? I swear we’ll be good. We’ll totally behave ourselves and not drink ten mini bottles of vodka on ice.” She grinned like a movie star in a toothpaste commercial. She did have really nice teeth. Having a father as a cosmetic dentist made sure of that.
He gave her a perfunctory smile in return, which disappeared less than a second after it had appeared. “As much as it pains me to tell you this, I’m afraid I cannot give you the upgrade unless you have the points or the money to pay for it.” He looked at his monitor. “To go from economy class to business class will cost you a total of one thousand two hundred dollars for the three of you. We accept all major credit cards.” His nostrils flared slightly as he stared at her again.
Kelly’s mouth dropped open. “Are you insane? I could buy a shitty used car for that much money.”
He smiled without humor. “But you don’t get complimentary drinks in shitty used cars, now do you?” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in his voice. Damn, he was good.
I walked up to the desk and rested my arm on it, giving him my best addressing-the-bench smile. “Hi there, … Samuel. I’m Andrea … Andie.” I put my other hand on Kelly’s arm. “It’s my job to take this poor girl and give her the best two days of her life in Vegas before she ties herself down to a life of servitude and misery. I’m talking marriage here, and it’s bad. It’s really bad.” I lowered my voice. “Her fiancé is a mortician.”
“You’re kidding me,” he said, looking first at me and then Kelly. His cold expression slipped just a little. We were used to the morbid curiosity when the subject came up, and I wasn’t too proud to use it to our advantage. This was my best friend’s bachelorette party, after all. Sacrifices would need to be made. Buttons would have to be pushed. Pride would have to be swallowed.
Kelly nodded, her eyes big and if I wasn’t mistaken, a little shiny. Nice touch, I said in my nod at her. Work it hard. The sad thing is, I wasn’t kidding about the mortician thing. She really was planning to marry Matthew Ackerman, otherwise known to us as Matty the mortician. Candice and I have asked her several times what she could possibly see in a man who deals with the dead all the time, and her answer was always the same: nobody’s got good wood like a guy who works with stiffs all day. I’m still not even sure what that’s supposed to mean, but I’m also pretty damn sure I don’t want to know either, so I let it lie.
“You’re going to marry a man who touches dead bodies every day? Cuts them open?” He leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. “Embalms them?”
She nodded. “Yes. We deal with death every day, the two of us. It’s all very heart-breaking. This is my one last chance to let my hair down before I have to suck it up and be the wife of a mortician.” She wiped a fake tear from her eye and turned away.
And the Academy Award for Best Actress in a Non-Movie is … Kelly Foust!
The agent looked to his left and then his right. His fingers flew over the keys, sometimes just the index finger pressing one key about twenty times. I wondered if he was really even doing anything. It was possible he was just messing with us by seeing how long he could keep us standing there believing we were convincing him to feel sorry for us before he told us to go get bent.
But then the sound of a dot matrix printer came from under his counter and a few seconds later he was pulling six long boarding cards out with our names on them. “Business class upgrade? Why of course, ladies. We’re happy to accommodate your business needs here at Delta Airlines. Here are your boarding passes for both legs of the flight to Las Vegas.” He put them down on the counter and slid them over to Kelly. She grabbed them and squealed, her heels tapping the floor over and over as she simultaneously hugged Candice and jumped up and down with her. I put my hand on her shoulder to calm her down while giving my full attention to the agent.
“Thanks so much for helping us out, Samuel. That was really cool.”
He smiled at me, the first genuine expression I think I’d gotten from him since I’d walked up to his counter. “Just be careful. They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but sometimes the trouble follows you home. Know what I mean?” He winked.
I nodded, even though I had no idea what he was talking about. I wasn’t the kind of girl to get into that kind of trouble. I might drink a little wine now and then or a beer maybe, but I always remembered what happened the next day and I never went too far. I was all about self-control now that I was an adult and no longer goofing around in college. “Good tip. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for flying Delta. Have a pleasant trip.” He looked past me to the person next in line, so I took the hint and moved to the side.
Grabbing our carry-ons, we left for the security area, Candice and Kelly already making plans for our first night in Vegas. I heard something about slots and a night club before trying unsuccessfully to block out the rest. I let out a long sigh, realizing as each part of their plan was revealed that I had two days of adult babysitting to look forward to. It was no big deal, though. I’d had lots of practice in college being their roommate. I’d always been the responsible one, the dedicated driver, the girl who held their hair while they barfed over the toilet, the one who dispensed tissues and served up ice cream when boyfriends made them cry. Two days in Vegas, running after my best friends and keeping them out of the kind of trouble that follows a person home. How hard could it be? I had four years of practice at the University of Florida. This would be a piece of cake.
My phone buzzed after I went through security, and I read the text on the screen while we walked to our gate. The words glowing out at me didn’t make the outlook for my trip any brighter. I considered turning around and dealing with the problem now so I could get it all over with, thinking I could hook up with my friends later. This was seriously going to ruin the trip for me.
“What’s wrong, party pooper?” asked Candice, coming up beside me and putting her arm across my shoulders. She’s normally only two inches taller than me, but with her stilettos, she had me by half a head easy. I’d worn lower heels today so I could be comfortable for the trip. It was more practical, and I was nothing if not that. Candice, on the other hand, abhorred practicality. She considered it the devil’s influence and the road to a truly boring life.
I gritted my teeth, trying to contain my anger, trying not to let Luke ruin our bon voyage. “It’s nothing,” I said, acting nonchalant about it. “Just Luke.” I went to slip my phone into the outer pocket of my purse, but Candice snatched it away from me.
“Hey!” I protested, reaching for it.
She handed it over to Kelly, keeping her grip tight on my shoulders. “Just relax. We’re here to help.”
“Oh my pink granny panties, did he actually just send this to you in a text? What a total douchebag McGee.” She looked at me with her patented WTF expression. “Seriously, Andie, you so need to kick him in the balls when you get back.”
“Whatsit say?” asked Candice, letting go of me and reaching for the phone.
“Read it and weep.” Kelly gave me a pity frown as she handed the phone to Candice.
Two seconds later, Candice was typing something out on it.
“No!” I said, reaching for it. “Don’t!”
“Too late! Too late!” she sang, dancing around in a small circle, holding the phone above her head.
I jumped up and snatched it away from her so I could read the very short conversation.
Luke: I can’t believe you’re going. Have a nice life.
Andi’s phone: Have a nice life yourself, assbag.
“Wow. Thanks, Candice. That was awesome.” My thumb hovered over the keys, ready to type out an explanation. An apology. Something.
Candice grabbed me by the arm and dragged me over to a group of empty seats inside our boarding area. “Listen to me, Andie. Before you send him another text, consider this...”
I sat down letting out a huff of frustration. I had already reached my vacation destination. Welcome to Sucksville! Next stop: Shit City!
Candice continued. “Luke’s been sucking the life out of you for three whole years. Three years! And in all that time, what has he done, other than annoy the crap out of your best friends and make you cry? Huh? What has he done to deserve your undying loyalty? I don’t get it.”
“He’s not that bad,” I said, feeling a little guilty as I said it. My grandmother had always told me even little white lies were bad lies.
“Not that bad? Yeah, right. What did he get you for Valentine’s Day this year? Oh yeeeaaah, that’s right! A gift certificate towards liposuction! Wasn’t that thoughtful.” She rolled her eyes and threw up a hand for emphasis.
“Not,” interjected Kelly.
“He knows I don’t like my love handles on the top of my butt,” I said, knowing as the words left my lips how incredibly lame I sounded. Why do I keep allowing this stuff to happen? How can I call myself a strong intelligent woman when I act like a complete loser with men?
“Right. Whatever.” Candice was disgusted. “Talk about keeping a woman down. And what did he do the last time you went out of town for work? Oh, yeah. I remember now! He made out with his secretary at the office party!” She threw both her hands up and let them fall to slap the top of her thighs.
“He was drunk. They were both drunk. He told me about it, so it’s not like he was hiding it.” I remembered the sharp pain of humiliation over that one. It came back full force every time I thought about it, which was way too often.
Kelly sat down on my other side. “Please stop making excuses for that shitheel, would you? He confessed because everyone in the entire firm saw it, and he knew you were going to find out sooner or later.” She put her arm around me and squeezed. “He’s a crap boyfriend and a crap guy in general. Please just let him go and move on. Please, please don’t go back to him. He’s offering you a golden opportunity right now.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re marrying Matty the mortician next week.”
“Yes, well, if you recall, I kissed a lot of hairy, warty toads before I found my prince.”
“Yeah. Remember Bruno from Italy?” asked Candice, giggling.
“How could I forget?” I asked, smiling too. Misery loves company. “Bruno, the one-balled wonder.”
“Hey, he can’t help it that he’s missing a testicle,” said Kelly, trying really hard to be offended but not quite hitting the mark.
“Uh, yeah he can, when he’s the one who made it fall off,” said Candice, snorting.
Kelly sighed with exaggerated patience. “It didn’t fall off, okay? I’ve told you a hundred times, Candice, he had it surgically removed.”
I couldn’t stop smiling despite being pissed off about that stupid text and the idea that the first thing I’d have to do when I got back would be to pack up his crap and deliver it to his apartment … although it would be nice to get my closet back. “And why exactly did Bruno have his own testicle surgically removed?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know the answer.
Kelly shrugged. “I guess he had too much testosterone or something.”
Candice snorted again, bending over a little with the giggles that were coming more uncontrollably now.
I sat back in my seat and crossed one leg over the other. “I thought he injected himself in the ball sack with some black market steroids and caused an infection down there that made one of them shrivel up and fall off.”
Candice was laughing loudly now, her guffaws sprinkled liberally with very unattractive pig-snorts.
“Shut up, Andie. The guy almost died. You shouldn’t be making fun of him.” Kelly pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.
I reached over and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Poor old one-ball. He deserves our pity not our mockery.”
I looked over at Candice and winked. She had to look away to contain herself.
A voice came over the loudspeaker: “Delta Flight eighty-seven to Las Vegas now boarding business class passengers only. Business class passengers only.”
Candice and Kelly jumped up, Bruno One-Ball a distant memory.
“That’s us,” said Candice, picking up her Louis Vuitton make-up case. “Business class, here we come.” She tiptoed over to the ticket counter, boarding pass out and big smile on.
“Seriously,” said Kelly as we walked over to join our friend who was openly flirting with a man in a shiny silver suit, “you need to just let Luke go, at least during this trip. You need to be one hundred percent focused on having fun and enjoying this girl-time together. After I’m married and then have kids, I’m not sure I’ll ever have time to do it again, at least until I’m like sixty.”
I nodded. “I know. I’ll just deal with him when I get back.” The business of breaking up. And after a three year investment of time and serious future plan-making on my part, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
“That’s my girl,” she said, hugging me with one arm. “Come on. Let’s go drink all the vodka on the plane.”
“Didn’t you promise Samuel the ticket guy you wouldn’t do that?” I said, handing the attendant my boarding card and moving to the passageway that would bring us to the plane.
“Nope. I didn’t make any promises.” She pulled my arm and tugged me along. “Promises are only promises if you say the word promise.”
“I think it’s the intent that matters, not the words.” My feet dragged, my brain definitely not agreeing that Las Vegas was a good idea right now.
“You are such a lawyer sometimes,” she said, frustrated with me. She jerked my arm. “No more lawyering. From this moment until the point that you get off the plane here in West Palm on our way home, you will not be a lawyer.” She turned and faced me, standing in the doorway of the plane. “Promise me. Say the word. Promise you won’t act like a lawyer the entire time we’re gone.”
I sighed heavily, watching the crowd of economy-class passengers coming down the gangway behind us. Kelly’s stubborn. She’d stay there all day and make everyone wait until she got her way.
“Fine. I promise. Andie the lawyer is staying behind in the airport.” My shoulders sagged in defeat.
“Weeeee!” she squealed, taking me into a brief but strong hug. “Andie the party girl is now on board, airplane people.” She smiled as she stepped into the front of the plane, looking out over the seats in business class. “Now someone show us to the vodka.” She left me standing there, taking a seat next to Candice. They both squealed together like teenagers.
I followed along slowly, not looking forward to getting reacquainted with Andie the party girl. I’d left her behind in college and hadn’t seen her in a long, long while. Andie the party girl did not fit into my plans of making partner, getting married, and having two point five kids by the time I’m thirty-five.