Seven Year Switch (2010) (20 page)

IT TOOK US A WHILE TO GET TO THE POOLSIDE RESTAURANT
where we were meeting the GGG group for dinner, because Cynthia's strappy leather sandals were half a size too small and impossible to walk in.

“This is ridiculous,” I said as I wobbled along the path. “I'm going back for my flip-flops.”

“You can do it, girlfriend,” Cynthia said. “After a while you get used to the suffraging.”

The outdoor restaurant was fairly crowded, so we stopped at the edge of the patio to look for our group. A local band was playing a wooden flute–heavy cover of Santana's “Black Magic Woman.” We rocked our hips to the jungly beat, and Cynthia and I gave each other a couple of hip bumps. I yanked up the black dress before I lost it.

In the center of the courtyard, three round tables had been pulled together in the shape of a snowman. In the soft glow of candles and palm trees strung with white lights, I could just make out Joni sitting at the head table.

There was an empty table right in front of us, and a small ceramic vase in the center held three pinkish purple orchids. I reached for one and tucked it behind my ear. A stream of water dribbled down the side of my neck, and I wiped it off with the back of my hand.

“I can't believe I have to pee again already,” I said. “I'll meet you at the table.”

Going to the bathroom in Spanx might not be that tricky under the best of circumstances, but in ninety-something-degree weather and tropical humidity it was going to be a challenge.

There was a little split in the crotch, but I wasn't sure if it was for ventilation or elimination, and somehow I wasn't feeling quite that adventurous.

Music and laughter floated into the tiny thatched-roof bathroom as I thought my options through. Okay, if I rolled the dress up from the bottom, and the Spanx down from the top, it should work, right?

I tottered on Cynthia's fancy sandals as I rolled her dress up under my armpits. Then I tottered some more as I peeled the stretchy fabric of the Hide and Seek Hi-Rise Body Smoother away from my hot, sweaty skin like a Band-Aid.

My torso was finally free, but the same elasticity that had taken inches off my midriff was now making it impossible for me to separate my knees more than a fraction of an inch. Slowly, I worked Cynthia's Spanx down around my ankles.

I sat on the toilet, my sweaty butt sticking to the biodegradable toilet seat cover. I took a deep breath and released my pent-up pee like a waterfall.

Just as I finished, I felt the hairy tickle of something on my left calf.

I looked down. Cynthia's black strapless dress was rolled up over her black push-up bra, my ankles were bound in Spanx, and a black zebra tarantula the size of a small country was crawling up my leg.

Leave it to me to die in a bathroom in Costa Rica just when I was ready to start living again. I only hoped Anastasia was strong enough to get through the loss. And that her heart was already filled with enough memories of me to last her a lifetime. Seth would take good care of her, at least I thought he would, and if he didn't, I'd find a way to come back and haunt him
until he got on track again. Maybe I'd luck out, and the next world, if there was one, would turn out to be an endless whirl of belly dancing.

I forced my frozen body to move. Carefully, I wrapped a long sheet of toilet paper around my right hand like a bandage.

Centimeter by centimeter, I stood up, my heart pounding in my chest.

“One, two, three,” I whispered quietly.

“One, two, three,” I whispered again, because it didn't work the first time.

I flicked the tarantula across the room with my toilet-paper covered hand.

I yanked Cynthia's dress down. I tried to pull up the Spanx, but it was drenched in sweat and my hands were shaking. I un-buckled Cynthia's sandals as fast as I could, kicked them off, then stepped out of the Spanx.

I grabbed the sandals and threw the door open, waving the Spanx behind me in case the tarantula tried to follow.

Billy Sanders was standing right outside the door. I threw myself into his arms.

“What's wrong?” he said.

I pointed. “A tarantula. A black zebra tarantula. Do something.”

He pulled the bathroom door shut. And then he kissed me.

“Wait a minute,” I said when we finally finished. “What are you doing here?”

He held up one end of the Spanx. “Is there a story behind this?”

I yanked it away. “Don't change the subject.”

Billy shrugged. “Well, since you weren't returning my phone calls, I stopped by your house. There were some kids playing in the front yard, so I asked them if you were home. A little boy said you went to Costco with his mother. Then a cute
little girl in a pink headband said no you didn't—you were in Cost-Eureka. My dad had just mentioned he was heading over here for a meeting with Joni Robertson to discuss buying her out, so I put two and two together and tagged along with him.”

“Your dad,” I said.

“Yeah, he still insists on spearheading all new business decisions.”

“I don't need you to buy Great Girlfriend Getaways,” I said.

Billy squinted his raccoon eyes. “I didn't realize you were part owner.”

“I'm not. What I mean is, I don't need to be rescued.”

He reached over and opened the bathroom door.

“Don't!” I took a step away. “Can you just do something about that tarantula?”

“Sure. Shall I take out the trash, too, while I'm in there?”

“Never mind,” I said. “I'll handle it.”

I did the best I could to fit the Spanx into Cynthia's clutch bag while I walked quickly toward the restaurant area. A tray-carrying waiter appeared.

“Excuse me?” I said.

He stopped.

“There's a black zebra tarantula in the restroom,” I said.

He shook his head. “What else is new. That's the only thing that sucks about living down here. It's friggin' gorgeous, but there's friggin' wildlife everywhere.”

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“Boston,” he said.

“Me, too,” I said.

“Wherever we go, there we are.” He shifted the tray on his shoulder. “This sucker's heavy. Have a good one.”

I turned around, fully expecting to see Billy laughing, but he was gone.

 

I TOOK ANOTHER SIP
of my caipirinha and glanced down casually to make sure my breasts were still ensconced in Cynthia's black dress.

“What a fascinating life you boys lead,” Janice was saying. “Tell us some more about the bike biz.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Yes, do tell,” another woman said. “We'd love to hear all about it.”

In our snowman configuration of three tables, Billy and his dad were seated on either side of Joni like eyes. I was way off on the left side of the stomach, between two women who were talking to each other through me. I leaned back in my chair to get out of the direct path of their words.

Joni had made a quick introduction when I seated myself at the table. Billy's father waved, and Billy gave me a quick wave, too. It was as if we'd never even met.

I took a small bite of mango salsa. I moved some black beans and rice around on my plate. I guess life was just like this: one jump forward and two big hops back. Things had been so clear a few hours ago. I was going to take control of my life, learn to soar on my own power.

Brightly dressed women chattered away to Billy and his dad like beautiful, exotic birds. Suddenly I felt boring and drab, the world's ugliest duckling. Billy hadn't even glanced my way. It was as if I were invisible.

I gazed up at the trees and thought I saw an anteater swing by, hanging by its tail. I knew Costa Rican anteaters were
nocturnal and called
tamanduas
. They were also known as lesser anteaters.

I knew the feeling.

I checked my watch. As soon as I could excuse myself without being rude, I'd head back to the bungalow, get out of this ridiculous outfit, drop the stupid fantasies, and move on with my life.

But wait. This wasn't high school. Billy and I should talk things through. I'd explain what I'd just been through with Seth. How I was feeling about my life and how the time just wasn't quite right yet for a new relationship. He'd tell me he understood, that he'd wait for me. After all, wasn't he the one who said that life was a marathon and not a sprint?

At the head table, Billy yawned and put his dinner napkin on the table. He pushed his chair back.

I yawned, too. I picked up Cynthia's clutch and reached under the table for her sandals.

Janice yawned. The lawyer yawned. One of the women next to me yawned.

Billy stood up. “Long day,” he said without looking in my direction. “Nice to meet you all.”

“I'll help you find your bungalow,” Janice said. “It gets confusing around here at night.”

“Or I could,” the lawyer said. “I think it's right next to mine.”

“Thanks,” Billy said. “I could use a good rescue.”

I STARED UP AT THE CEILING OF MY BUNGALOW, WONDERING
if the rustle I was hearing was a cute little lizard or a black zebra tarantula.

Because we were so close to the equator, the length of days and nights didn't vary much with the season, and this time of year, they were almost equal. Sunrise and sunset were both sometime around five-thirty, which meant in another couple of minutes I could stop worrying about tarantulas and Billy, and head down to the beach to watch the sunrise.

So what if I'd had a sleepless night. So what if half the women on this trip wanted to walk Billy back to his bungalow. I was moving on to a life of sunrises and sunsets, belly dancing and yoga. I'd find a way to travel with Anastasia. Maybe I could run a vacation camp for kids.

When I had the chance, when Billy wasn't being swarmed by women, I'd talk to him. We'd smooth things over. Whether or not his father ended up buying GGG, everything would be fine. Sure, it might be a little awkward seeing him with another woman, but I'd get over it. I just hoped it wasn't Janice. She was a little bit abrasive. I mean, not that it was my business, but with all the available women in the world, I didn't think he should settle for someone like that.

I kicked my way out of the bamboo sheets and tiptoed into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth quickly and splashed some water on my face, on the lookout for tarantulas the whole time.
I tiptoed over to the closet, put on shorts and a T-shirt, and slid into my flip-flops.

Cynthia rolled over in her bed. “
Terpsichorean
,
munificence
,
polyglot
.”

“Good job,” I whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

I felt Billy's presence on the beach before I even saw him. He was sitting cross-legged on the sand, gazing out at the water.

Before I had a chance to overthink it, I sat down beside him. “Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he said.

The sand gave away to splashing waves, which blended into a skyful of intricate cloud formations. The colors were muted, all shades of gray.

A pencil line of orange sun appeared. We sat there silently, as if we were the only two people on earth, and watched the full sunrise show.

“Wow,” I said finally. “I can't remember the last time I saw a sunrise.”

“I can't remember the last time I missed one.”

“Really?”

We both stared straight ahead. “Yeah,” Billy said. “It centers me for the whole day. What ever happens after watching that, I mean, how bad can it be?”

I took a deep, cleansing breath. “Seth didn't deserve me, and I finally let him go. I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like I'm actually alone for the first time. As attracted as I am to you, I'm not sure it's a good idea to jump into another relationship right away. I think I should work on my independence first, really fly with my own two wings. So as hard as it would be for me, I want you to know I'd completely understand if one of the women who walked you home last night…”

“Which one do you think I should pick?”

I whipped my head around.

Billy crossed his arms over his chest. “Janice was nice. But I think she's still got a few issues to work through. The lawyer's a possibility—never hurts to have a lawyer in the family. And somebody left a casserole on the front porch of our bungalow this morning, so I'll have to find out who that was and add her to the list….”

I threw a handful of sand at him.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me into a cross between a hug and a headlock. “Couldn't we just relax and have our third date?” he said.

 

“
NOT JUST A TARANTULA
,” I said.

“But a black zebra tarantula,” Billy said.

“Okay, wise guy, maybe I have told the story a few times.”

I slid over a little so I could kiss him.

“So,” he said when we came up for air. “Are you sure Joni's okay with you taking off for the day like this?”

I laughed. “Vianca and the surfing instructor had it all under control. And I have to say Joni couldn't get rid of me fast enough. I think she was just trying to get your dad all to herself.”

Billy shook his head. “I wouldn't hold my breath. Not to downplay my catch factor, but that casserole on the front porch was probably for my dad. There's been a steady line of them at his door ever since my mother died.”

“How long has it been?” I asked.

A little flash of sadness crossed his face. “Two years.”

“Maybe he's just not ready,” I said. “Anyway, if nothing else, Joni Robertson is a great friend to have.”

Billy kissed me on the forehead, then glanced in the rear-view mirror. The taxi driver was focused on getting us over the bumpy roads in one piece. “I'm actually angling for them to
move in together by tonight,” he whispered. “That way you and I can have my bungalow.”

“Sorry,” I said, “but I already have a roommate, and I can't possibly desert her. Besides, what was that thing you said about life being a marathon and not a sprint?”

“A total pickup line,” Billy said.

The taxi driver pulled over and dropped us off at the edge of the Avellanes beach parking lot, next to Lola's Bar and Restaurant. We made arrangements for him to pick us up later. We rented full-size surfboards.

“Wow,” Billy said as we maneuvered the surfboards to get their weight evenly distributed between us. “Now this is a beach.”

We walked past some crooked old trees and under a rustic little awning through a break in a wooden fence, then past a giant driftwood tree half buried in the sand. The turquoise water went on forever, and the frothy white wave breaks were long and smooth and encouraging.

“Stingray Pointers,” I read out loud.

“No pun intended,” Billy said.

“Shh,” I said. “I'm trying to read.”

STINGRAY POINTERS

Equipped with whip-like Tails that have serrated barbs, the stingray is Capable of covering the majority of its Flat body with sand. Only its eyes and tail are Left exposed. Shuffle your feet as You walk through the water—the stingrays will dart Away.

 

“I find the capitalization here quite fascinating,” I said after I finished gulping.

“I'm glad my ex-wife didn't know about stingrays,” Billy said. “We had enough issues with jellyfish.”

“Siphonophores,” I said. I dropped the canvas bag holding our towels and water bottles and kicked off my flip-flops.

“No pressure,” Billy said. “If you feel like hanging around up here for a while, I'll just catch a few waves and come back.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” I said.

Surfing isn't much different from the rest of life: it's fun, but also a lot harder than it looks. I was dying to stay up on the sand practicing my pop-ups until they would have made even Ismael proud, but it was time to move forward.

Doing the stingray shuffle while carrying a big hunk of fiberglass attached to my ankle by a leash was like trying to pat my head and rub my stomach while floating a piano. But once I got in deep enough to lift my feet up, I did all right for myself.

In surfing, and maybe even in life, the trick is to use the calm between the waves to position yourself for the next one. I paddled in a prone position and rode a few waves in. Eventually I worked my way up to a sitting position, then graduated to kneeling until I tipped over. I was pre–pop-up, but I was on my way.

Meanwhile, Billy looked like he was on a tryout for a surfing movie. My paddling muscles were screaming, so I took a minute to watch him. A wave came out of nowhere, and the next thing I knew I was eating a mouthful of sand. I fought my way up to the surface and rested my head on my board.

Billy paddled his way over to me. “Come on, let's take a break.”

I spit out another mouthful of sand. “I thought you were tougher than that.”

We stingray-shuffled our way out of the water and carried our boards up. We dried off and spread out our beach towels.

Billy handed me a bottle of water. “Why don't you watch our stuff, and I'll grab us something from Lola's. Anything you don't like?”

I flopped down on my towel. “Yeah, stingrays. And tarantulas.”

Billy bent down to get his sunglasses. “Don't you mean
black zebra
tarantulas?”

I reached for his arm. “Hey,” I said.

He sat down beside me and swung an arm over my shoulders. “Hey.”

I leaned into him. “I just wish we could freeze things right here. All by ourselves on this perfect day. No worries about what happens next, whether you'll call me once we get home.”

Billy kissed me on the top of the head. “The issue, as I remember, was not me calling. It was you answering.”

“Or whether our kids will like each other,” I said. “Or whether you'll go off to Japan and decide to stay there with my old husband.”

“Or whether you'll ever get a divorce from said old husband,” Billy said.

“Not an issue. I told you, it's over. I'm calling a lawyer as soon as I get back.”

“My wife and I used a great mediator, if you need a referral.”

“God, you're so civilized. It's actually a little bit obnoxious. No offense.”

“It was a lot more obnoxious when we weren't being civilized, believe me.”

“And what about mixing our business and personal lives? I mean, if you buy out Joni, then I see only two choices. Either I'm jobless, or I'm sleeping with my boss.”

“Do I get a vote on that one?”

I elbowed him. “Cute. It's just that this could all turn into one great big mess.”

An enormous mud-covered, pinkish pig ambled across the beach and plopped down at our feet.

“I'm kind of over this nature thing,” I said.

A surfer walking by bent down to scratch the pig on the head. “Hey, Lola,” he said.

“Guess that's Lola,” Billy said. “Maybe she's here to take our sandwich order.”

“I've actually read about her,” I said. “In one of the guidebooks. She's pretty famous—I think she was even featured in a spread in
Gourmet
magazine once.”

“Better than in a recipe,” Billy said. “Life's messy. It just is. So we'll take our time and do it right. And remember it's a marathon and not a sprint.”

The pig looked up.

“Such a pickup line,” I said. “Don't ever fall for it.”