Redeem Me (21 page)

“It’s up to you guys,” I say. “I have no parents to embarrass.” In the end, one photo is taken and it goes into my purse because mine is the largest. I’m not sure if it’s everyone else’s nudity or the body paint, but we all just forget we’re naked. We dance, drink, and talk to everyone we meet as if we’re all dressed. Our paint job brings notoriety—that and the fact that the clientele is generally about ten years older than us.

Violet selects a rather yummy bar-back to spend her night flirting with. I thought she was just looking for attention, but when she starts to dance with him, I find myself checking the door to make sure the groomsmen don’t also find the Garden an intriguing option.

As if the situation were attached to a timer, it detonates just as Julia walks over to me. “What the hell is she doing?” she asks.

I look up and see Violet French-kissing her bar-back on the dance floor. My mouth falls open.

“Wow.”

“Charlotte, this is ridiculous!” Julia appears to be getting even angrier. Sydney must have felt the shrapnel on the other side of the bar because on her way back from the bathroom she pulls Violet free and leads her to us.

“Hi, girls,” Violet says with a huge grin on her face. She’s licking her lips.

“Violet! What are you doing?” Julia asks with spit flying out of her mouth, having said good-bye to sober hours ago herself. “You’re getting married in a month.”

“Oh, Jule Jules,” Violet mocks as Sydney and I exchange a look of terror. “Loosen up!”

“Loosen up? Loosen up?!” I can actually see the blood rising in Julia’s neck and turning her ears a deep ruby color. “You have no respect for the sanctity of marriage!” she erupts, pointing a finger in Violet’s face.

It’s a poignant scene, watching two sections of a mural fighting.

As if on cue, Violet’s new friend comes over and wraps his arms around Violet’s waist from the back and buries his face in her neck. Sydney and I stand paralyzed as Julia pulls back and throws her drink on both of them.

Sydney and I manage to get everyone back into their clothes and out of the bar ahead of being thrown out. It doesn’t appear the staff wants to deal with us at all. I can’t blame them because I don’t want to deal with us either. Violet and her friend stumble down the street arm in arm as Julia continues her verbal assault. She manages to reiterate her concerns about the sanctity of marriage as Violet gives her the finger over her head.

“Which one do you want?” Sydney asks, and I can’t decide which is worse: trying to calm Julia down or trying to keep Violet’s pants on.

“Do something, you idiots!” Julia rails at us both.

“I’ll take the bride,” I say, and follow the happy couple down Duval Street.

I’m trying to pay attention to where we’re walking as I catch up to Violet and this dude. We go five blocks down Duval and make a right on Petronia. The Bourbon Bar is on the corner and I almost give up on Violet’s virtue and head in by myself. Maybe our destination will have a glass of Jack for the walk home. I count the blocks, passing several restaurants as I get to the sixth block and see we’re at the end. We make a right and head up the front steps of a cottage with a small porch facing the street. I think the ocean must be across the street, but I can’t see a thing beyond the streetlights.

“Dave!” the dude calls up the stairs, and a short, athletic-looking guy comes bounding down. “This is who I was telling you about on the phone,” he says, and dramatically presents Violet to Dave as he scoops her up and kisses her. Rather than being as repulsed as I should be, I feel completely detached from the whole situation. It’s just so silly.

“She is my soul mate, Dave! I’ve found her!”

At this I feel my eyes rolling up into my head.

“Who’s this?” Dave asks as he moves to stand right in front of me, my eyes slightly higher than his.

“I’m the witness to the moment when your friend found his soul mate, drunk and naked in a bar on Duval Street,” I answer, the sarcasm stinging even my own throat.

Dave leans up and mutters into my ear, “I think he has multiple souls.”

“I think we should leave,” I whisper back.

“Want a drink?” Dave offers as he heads into the kitchen.

Violet’s now cuddled on this dude’s lap, making out old school. I curl my lip in disgust.

“Do you have any whiskey?” I ask as I follow him into the kitchen.

I need to get Violet out of here. It’s already after one and we have a long walk back to our boat launch. I’m sure it’ll take twice as long since Violet probably can’t navigate a straight line.

“Violet, can I talk to you for a minute?” I direct my voice toward the living room without actually looking in, petrified of what I might see. God forbid the dude has made it past first base. “It will only take a minute, I promise.” I smile at Dave.

“Yeeesss?” Violet says as she enters the kitchen with pure joy covering her face.

“Can I talk to you out back for a minute?” I ask. We walk through the screen door and sit on the railing of a tiny porch right outside the door.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Charlotte, I’m fine.”

“Fine? Violet, you are not fine. You’re about to ruin your life,” I say as I grab her by the arms. “We need to go back to our island.”

Okay, that statement is absurd.

“Charlotte, seriously, I’ve never been happier,” she says again with a straight face. “This is exactly what a bachelorette party’s for.”

“No, it’s not! Really, it’s not! Especially not the one you’re on with your future husband.”

I’m feeling a little delirious. I wonder if I can lift Violet and just carry her a few blocks to get her out of here.

“What would you do if Blake was doing the same thing you are right now?” I lob out.

“I couldn’t care less. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with Blake, every day of it. Tonight I’m going to put myself first,” she insists. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” She straightens her back, signaling the end of the conversation.

“Do you really think you can cover this wager?”

“Tonight’s not about thinking, Charlotte.”

The words ring in my ears. In one sentence, Violet’s finally answered my most haunting question about Jason and Stephanie. What was he thinking? She’s right. It’s not about thinking.

“Let’s get a drink,” she says as she holds the door open for me. I pause, still contemplating her words, then down the Jack in my glass and walk through the door.

Dave, thank God, turns out to not be a total creep and lets me borrow a towel to shower. Watching the body paint disintegrate and run down the drain is poetic. I put my dress back on and join Dave on the couch.

“You’re a good friend,” he says gently.

“I’m not hooking up with you,” I return sourly.

“Blunt, too,” he says.

“Look, it’s late. I don’t want to waste your time. I’m totally in love with my boyfriend,” I say, and add “and my ex-boyfriend.” Neither of us speaks as we let my last confession marinate. My God, I am still in love with Jason. I know it and now Dave knows it.

“How does that happen?” Dave asks, and I can hear Violet giggling in the bedroom.

“Well, Dave, you have to be a giant fuck-up.”

Dave considers this for a few minutes. “I’ll bet you’re awesome in bed,” he says, but it doesn’t seem like a compliment. “Crazy chicks are always great in bed.”

I ignore him and pass out.

“Hey, Cuckoo, your alarm’s going off.” Dave is shaking my shoulders.

“Huh?” I say as I try to recall where I am. I open my eyes and recognize Dave. My head begins to throb as I remember Violet’s night. “Where’s Violet?”

“She’s still asleep. Can you please turn off your alarm?” he pleads as he tosses my phone onto my chest. I slide the bar and stop the alarm from sounding. The phone says it is 10:00 a.m. We’re all supposed to meet at Hog’s Breath for lunch at eleven.

“God help me.”

I get up and take an extra minute to steady myself. Knocking on the bedroom door, I speak too loudly for my head trauma. “Violet, get up.” I repeat it ten more times before she finally comes to the door. “Wow, you look horrible.”

Violet’s face is completely blank, as if she has no understanding of our situation. “You need to get in the shower”—still blank—“right now!”

I lead Violet toward the small bathroom and start the shower running.

“Charlotte,” she says on the verge of tears.

“Just get a shower, okay?” I say, and leave her in the bathroom.

I don’t want to do it, but we need some help. I call Julia.

“Yes?” she answers, salty. I’m guessing she waited up to yell at us and fell asleep unsatisfied.

“Hey, I need your help.” I purposely choose
I
over
we
since I figure she’s not going to lift a finger for Violet.

“No.”

“Look, I know you’re pissed, but we can sort this all out lat—”

“I can’t believe you’re
not
pissed,” Julia interrupts me. “After everything you’ve been through because Jason cheated on you, how can you defend her?”

I take a deep breath, unsure of the answer.

“I’m not defending anyone. I just don’t think this morning is the time for everyone to find out about last night.”

“When is, Charlotte? In three months when she’s pregnant?”

It’s a low blow. Julia’s angry at Violet and she’ll say anything at this point for company in her fury.

“Can I please speak with Sydney?”

There’s silence on the other end.

“Charlotte?” Sydney says.

“Hey, we need your help,” I say, desperate because we’re running out of time.

“How’s Violet?”

“I’m not sure.”

“What do you need me to do?” Sydney asks, and I feel a milligram of relief.

“I need you to bring us both dresses and flip-flops to the Hog’s Breath right now. I need you to leave before the guys and meet us there so we can change. Just pick something out of our closets. It doesn’t matter what it is,” I say as I hear Violet turn off the shower. “Bring our sunglasses, too—and eyedrops if you can find them.” My eyes feel like someone poured gravel in them.

“All right,” Sydney agrees.

“Leave right now. If you’re on the same launch as them, we’re sunk.”

“Okay, okay. I’m on my way.”

I hang up and rush Violet out of the shower. She gives the dude a kiss and hug good-bye and I wave to Dave on our way out. I retrace our route from last night and easily find Duval. We’re halfway to the Hog’s Breath when Violet starts crying.

I take a deep breath. What have I done to deserve this?

“Listen.” I stop walking and face Violet, trying to keep my voice level but feeling like I could burst into tears myself. “We have the rest of our lives to figure this out but only the next few hours to completely screw it up,” I start, and it kind of makes sense. “Admit nothing—nothing to Blake and nothing to yourself.”

We start walking again.

“Charlotte, how can you be like this?” Violet asks.

“I know a little something about being unable to move past things,” I answer.

We walk the rest of the way in silence.

I leave Violet on a curb around the corner on Fitzpatrick and go into the Hog’s Breath Saloon. I buy three T-shirts and ask them for a large bag. Sydney comes in just as I’m thanking the woman at the register. She’s rushing through the door, obviously worried.

“It’s going to be fine,” I tell her, but don’t believe a word of it.

We collect Violet and go back into the restaurant to change in their bathroom. We both look like hell, but at least we have new clothes on and sunglasses to hide the guilt. I put our clothes from last night into the bag, bury them beneath my T-shirts, and pour eyedrops into my eyes until they overflow onto my dress. Sydney brought our toothbrushes, which is a nice addition.

“Let’s go get settled at a table,” I suggest.

We anchor the table for eight and it surprises me it’s not tilting up on the other side, our guilt weighing so heavily on us. I am again reminded how stupid a joint bachelor/bachelorette party is. I almost tell Violet for her next wedding we’re not doing this, but catch myself in time. Instead I grab her hand as I hear the guys and Julia approaching.

“There’s my gorgeous bride!” Blake says as he kisses Violet. “Sorry we’re late; we just missed a launch and had to wait for the boat to return.”

Sydney and I exchange a knowing glance. That must have been her.

“How long have you guys been here?”

“Not long,” I say. “We came in early to do a little shopping.”

Julia looks at me with ice in her eyes, but she isn’t going to tell. She would have done so already.

“Are you guys hungry?” I ask to keep the conversation going.

Sydney thankfully picks up my end of the conversation and I focus on my Bloody Mary. I can’t wait to go to bed. My phone dings with two texts from Noble.

NOTHING IS THE SAME WITHOUT YOU.

I NEED YOU TO COME HOME.

I’ve been so focused on keeping Violet out of trouble that I haven’t let myself obsess over the fact that I’m still in love with Jason and what that means for Noble and me. I see the tortured look on Violet’s face and I’m thankful I’m not her. Although not behaving like Violet is not exactly the upside to my situation.

Somehow we all make it through breakfast without breaking down, crying, or confessing Violet’s sins. The boys are more than happy to tell us about their night—an edited version, I’m sure.

We’ll show you edited.

We tell them about the Garden of Eden, minus the bar-back, and everyone agrees to let Violet and Blake have a nice, quiet, romantic dinner tonight. After a long nap, I suggest, since we’ve all had too little sleep.

On the boat ride back to our island, I stew over my response to Noble’s text. It’s overdue. I can’t seem to collect the right words to assuage him.

Just a few more hours.

I’ll see you tomorrow night.

WILL I SEE YOU TOMORROW NIGHT?

Yes. My plane gets in late,

but I’ll come over if you’d like.

LIKE OR LOVE?

I’ll see you tomorrow :)