Something Right Behind Her (18 page)

Anyway, there
were a couple items on my list I felt ready to sort out: one, Randy, I was
positive, was on my get-rid-of-it-list, and even if Mom and Dad didn’t go with
that one, I was done trying to take that business seriously. If they wanted to
waste their money on Mr. Toast, fine. I didn’t have to talk, I didn’t have to
dish out my personal little tragedy for him each week.

Second, I love
warm weather. I love the beach. Dominican Republic, adult noses aside, here I
come. I also had the ridiculous notion my nightmares wouldn’t follow me to the
Caribbean, as if the dream Eve were, herself, too debilitated to travel.

Oh, and ALS. I
didn’t want to hear those three letters again as long as I lived.

I was undecided
on George, but with him I had some time. Douglas was absolutely number fucking
one on my list of what never to bother thinking about again if I could possibly
help it. Which I was pretty sure I could.

Grandma and
Grandpa were already at the airport when we arrived. Grandma was all decked out
in an orange top and white pants, even though it was about thirty degrees out.
She kissed me hello and left a big lipstick splotch on my cheek, but I was glad
to see her. She can really get my mind off stuff because she’s always ready to
have a good time, in practically any circumstance. She’d be the life of the
party at a funeral. Grandpa was his usual self, kind of quiet, taking it all
in, but he seemed pretty excited about the whole deal too. He kept asking Milly
if she’d take this trapeze class with him. He’s one of those old-guy, work-out
types. My big plan was to lay low. I didn’t actually need any excitement in my
life. Also, I was feeling a headache coming on, and I had a little back ache,
like I was getting my period. That was a downer. Naturally, one week out of the
whole winter I’d be wearing a bathing suit, and I have to be due for my period!

The resort we
were staying at was only about an hour from the airport, but, of course, we had
to drive through some pretty depressing stuff on the way there. Milly kept
saying “Oh my God, Grandpa, look at that,” every time we drove by one of those
sad cinderblock houses. Every house we passed had a couple chickens in the
yard, and a sort of yellow dog lying there in the sun, or sniffing around the
chickens. At first, I thought we were just seeing the same dog and the same
chickens over and over, and that maybe we were driving around in circles.

The scenery
started to change as we got closer to the resort. There were a bunch of resorts
all lined up together, with little groves of palm trees marking where one
property ended and another started. There were a few hotels I’d hoped we drive
right by, because they looked a bit shabby, and we did. When we arrived, it was
clear where we were staying was the nicest of the resorts. The entrance to the
hotel was an enormous pavilion, all open on the sides, with flowers spilling
out everywhere. While the adults were checking us in, Milly and I roamed about
the lobby and checked out the beach, which was down a little stone path from
the main pavilion. The beach was almost white, and the ocean was an amazing
greenish blue. Palm trees dotted the grounds and there were these beautiful red
and purple flowers all around. The whole thing seemed really natural and
beautiful, but you knew from the drive over there that all that stuff including
the palm trees had to have been planted there.

The food at the
resort was all buffet style and they had practically everything you could
imagine. We got there just in time for lunch and I thought little Milly was
about going to bust. I had some fish and fruit, since I felt sort of bloated
and I wasn’t really there for the food. I was there to forget about my real
life, and to look hot in my bikini.

After lunch, Mom
and Dad went to the spa and Milly and Grandma and Grandpa headed to the water.
I decided I’d take it easy the first day out and smeared myself in sunscreen
and lay there reading magazines. I flipped through page after page and let my
mind go blank. Occasionally, something I saw in one of the magazines would
remind me of Eve - there’d be a model with her sort of hair, a dress I knew
she’d like. But I wasn’t thinking about her in a miserable sort of way.

The beach scene
was pretty mellow. There were some other families, some couples. A few women
sunbathed topless - French, no doubt. There were a few Dominican-looking guys
around my age, or a little older. They were just hanging out, but they all had
these red swim trunks on, so I got the idea maybe they were staff. After a
while, it became clear I was right. All these young guys started gathering
around, putting up some kind of rope across a part of the beach. Then, they put
some loud Spanish music on. It seemed those guys were there to get the party
started. They began walking up and down the beach trying to get people up and
over to where they’d put up their ropes. A few of them were handing out what
seemed to be complimentary drinks. I could see that they were making their way
down the beach to where I was camped out, but I kept my eyes shut and hoped
they would get the hint.

“Hey, Bella, you
want to join in some fun?” I squinted and saw one of the guys leaning down
toward me. His skin was a light coffee color, and his eyes were green. His
smile was kind of toothy, but cute.

“Oh, no, no
thanks. I’m not feeling so well.” I knew I must’ve been blushing badly, because
he backed off right away. “OK, Bella, maybe you feel like it tomorrow. I hope
you do,” he said, and walked off with a wave. He’d kind of dropped his
“welcome-to-our-resort-and-be-happy deal with me. He could see, I guess, that I
was a girl who needed some space. I watched as the red-bathing suit guys roamed
around the beach trying to drum up enthusiasm for their cocktails-games- and
music thing. They were all pretty cute. The guy who’d said hello to me seemed
like maybe one of the younger guys. Once, as I watched him make his way down
the beach, I thought I saw him glance over his shoulder, back at me, but I
looked away fast. I didn’t need the guy to get the wrong impression and start
bugging me to get up and dance.

I lay back down
and shut my eyes. I felt my stomach flatten out and my hipbones rise as I lay
deeper in the sand. The sun was warm all over my body, but a slight breeze kept
me from feeling too hot. I thought for a moment how nice the water must be and
how it would be kind of fun to mess around with Milly down there, but the sun
had made me drowsy and my back sort of ached so I decided to stay where I was.

When Mom and Dad
finally made it down to the beach after their spa visit, they seemed unusually
chummy. Not that Mom and Dad aren’t normally a cozy couple. “Hey, Andy-
sweetheart,” Dad plopped himself down next to me on the beach blanket - just a
tad too close for comfort. “Look at this. It looks like fun - something you and
I could maybe do tonight.” Dad thrust this brochure at me for some kind of
night-kayaking. The trip left at like nine and you paddled through the forest
to a lagoon where there were these phosphorescent organisms that made the water
seem to glow. The pamphlet said you didn’t have to be an experienced kayaker,
but you should be prepared to be out there for about three hours. Three hours
of boating with Dad! Shit, I thought. How do I get out of this? Mom and Dad
were both leaning forward, looking at me like nothing could be more important.
“Sure,” I said. That looks really cool, Dad.” It could be worse, I told myself.
It could be SCUBA. Dad had been trying to rope me into a four day SCUBA class
that would basically mean that my entire vacation would be spent on some boat
with Dad and a bunch of other people’s dads wearing some plastic mask and flippers.
Kayaking for one night was definitely worth it if it meant getting out of
looking like a hundred and twenty pound frog all week.

Dinner that
night was another awesome buffet. I began to wonder if I was going to keep
feeling so slim by the end of the week. There were a lot of homemade rolls,
which I walked right by, and then all different kinds of fish and meat, and, of
course, piles and piles of fruit. I filled my plate with fish, and salad, then
went back for a whole huge plate of pineapple.

I was standing
at the fruit table with Milly, choosing the best-looking pineapple for me, and
checking out the mango-slices for Milly, when I heard a voice behind me say,
“Ah, take the mango, Bella, that is what’s freshest.” I turned around and saw
‘my guy’ - the red-bathing suit guy who tried to get me to join in the fun on
the beach. He turned to Milly and said, real friendly, “What’s your name,
little-Bella?” Milly blushed and looked at me, as if she wasn’t sure of the
proper response to the question. “Tell him your name, silly,” I said.

“That’s ok. I’ll
introduce myself properly first. I’m Carlos - I’m one of the employees here. I
help manage the restaurant, and I help make sure everyone’s having a good
time.” He looked up at me and winked as he said the thing about having a good
time, which made me blush almost as pink as Milly.

I introduced
myself and Milly and then added, stupidly, that we were down for “the holiday.”
Naturally, Carlos then had to go into how Christmas Eve was the best night at
the resort and there was this incredible ice cream cake and beautiful lights
strung up all over the four pavilions that made up the dining areas of the
resort. The thing I really shouldn’t miss, he said, was the night kayaking.

“Oh, that, yeah,
my Dad and I are signed up for that,” I said. Milly looked like that was the
first she heard of our plan. “Why aren’t we all going?” Milly asked. “Why can’t
I come?”

“Oh, you, little
Bella, might get tired. We don’t get started until about nine - we get back
after midnight. Also, it’s a little bit scary out there in the forest.” Carlos
grimaced and gave his shoulders a little shiver to indicate how fearful the
night-kayaking might be to a kid like Milly. I had to admit, that was cute.

“Can you imagine
Grandma out in the forest at night in a boat?” I asked Milly. We looked back at
the table where our parents were sitting with Grandma and Grandpa. Grandma was
drinking one of those fruity rum drinks, wearing her long yellow and orange sun
dress. The restaurant was definitely her element.

“Do you lead the
kayak trip?” I asked Carlos.

“Oh, no, I bring
up the rear – make sure we don’t lose anyone to the wild dogs.” He looked
seriously at me and patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve only ever
lost one lady, and she didn’t listen so well.” He chuckled and started to walk
away. “See you in a couple hours, Andy. It’ll be fun.” He winked again and gave
me a little wave. Then he went back to his rounds around the restaurant. It
seemed like being charming was his main responsibility. I never saw him lift a
plate.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

After dinner,
Dad and I went back to the rooms to get ready for the kayak trip. Our pamphlet
was pretty specific about what to wear and pack: bathing suit under
lightweight, long pants and shirt. Apparently, it was buggy out there. They
even recommended a certain type of super-strength bug repellant. We were also
supposed to bring towels, since we might want to take a dip in the lake where
the water was especially rich with these phosphorescent organisms. Flashlights,
paddle and life jackets were all provided by the hotel, as were, obviously, the
tour guides.

Dad and I had to
take a bus from the hotel to where they kept the kayaks. The bus was filled
with the other folks signed up for the tour. There were like twenty of us.
Mostly, it was young couples - married without kids types, and there were a few
boys a little younger than me. Then there were a few lonely Dad types – I
guess the ones whose wives weren’t into that sort of thing, or they had babies
back at the hotel that had to go to bed. There was one of those Dad types who
was French who tried to light up a cigarette on the bus over there. He had a
thick gold chain around his neck and a big fat nose. He was really put out
about the cigarette. I was the only girl, I noticed, who wasn’t actually with a
guy, since being with Dad didn’t count.

There were a few
of the red-swimsuit guys helping us find the right size life jacket and getting
us equipped with paddles and flashlights and everything. A few of us, myself included,
were kind of surprised to find that there were no double kayaks. Some of those
couples probably figured they were going on some romantic outing where the guy
would do all the paddling while the girl sat up front and gazed around at all
this glowing water.

“It is not a
difficult paddle.” The leader-guy said. “It is very flat water.” He then showed
us the rowing technique. Just holding the paddle was actually beginning to make
me tired. Some of the young women were looking seriously angry at their husbands
or boyfriends. This one blond woman raised her hand. “I am not sure we
understood we would all be paddling? Is there a way to get our money back?” The
guide-guy looked personally hurt by this.

“I told you this
is not at all difficult and very beautiful - a beautiful experience? You do not
believe me?” He placed his hand on his heart. He wasn’t really good-looking,
like Carlos, but he had large, expressive eyes. The blond lady seemed
unconvinced, but she didn’t seem willing to make a scene. We all walked down
the dock to get our kayaks. Dad was wearing his glasses and a baseball cap. He
swatted at his legs a few times, even though he was wearing some sort of sweats
or guy-yoga pants or something. Dad is kind of phobic about mosquitoes.