Page 59 of Parentmoon

When I exit the spa, which is more like a single room set up for massages, Laria is waiting for me. As I’m not a golfer, I’ve never driven a golf cart before, so the ride is a bit rough at first. Laria is a good sport, laughing along with me at every jostle. She smiles more easily in the brightness of day and the red highlights of her hair are more prevalent amid the gray. Absent of her husband’s presence, she’s a completely different woman from the quiet woman at dinner last night.

Once we reach Secret Beach, we order lunch and our first drink, then find seats along the water’s edge. As it’s later in the day, the available space is limited.

At first, Laria and I share general information about ourselves related to work and children. She has three young boys, aged thirteen, eleven, and eight and she married nearly a decade later than me at twenty-nine. She works part-time at a florist shop.

“Philip and I came here to repair our marriage,” Laria squints into the bright distance. “Yet he’s off fishing.”

“Do you think Dallas encouraged him to go?” While Dallas and I aren’t a couple, guilt nibbles at me. Her husband left with Dallas to spend a day without her.

Laria rolls her head and looks at me over her shoulder. “Philip was probably looking for an escape.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She sighs, glancing back toward the ocean.

It’s weird meeting a stranger you just know could be a friend, so I open up to her, explaining my own failed marriage and the history of Craig.

“That’s just it. I think Philip is sleeping with someone at his office, and everyone knows but me. The Christmas party was hell. I was paranoid everyone was talking about us, or them, or me, and how I didn’t know anything was going on.”

I’m upset on her behalf. What about girl code? When another woman knows a man is cheating, shouldn’t she help a friend? Tell her the truth? Although, I don’t know that I’d want to be the one to tell someone their husband is a loose dick. However, I do wish someone had told me before I found out through a phone call with a recording of Craig and his mistress.

“Why can’t they just end things before moving onto someone else?” The question is rhetorical.

A waiter arrives, pausing our discussion. Once we take our Mai-Tais from the tray, Laria holds up hers. “Cheers to that and the wonders of cheaters.”

We each sip before Laria addresses me again. “So, what’s the story with you and Dallas?”

“Girl, that is complicated.” Keeping to the basics, I explain how we know one another, how we didn’t get along before, and how we’ve strangely come together under the unfortunate circumstances of our children’s break-up.

“I’m so sorry. Maybe they’ll work it out.”

“I hope so.” I really mean it. I want Michael and Keli to come to terms with whatever caused them to split. Still refusing to believe one of them cheated on the other, I accept that stranger things can happen.

For the rest of the afternoon, we try to stick to less depressing topics, like anecdotes about people we work with, and mom stories with some extended family tales sprinkled in.

When we leave, Laria touches my forearm. “I’m sorry if spilling my woes with Philip was too much information from a stranger but thank you for listening.”

“Honey, thank you for listening to me talk about Dallas.” Telling someone about our situation and expressing the truth that it isn’t going to last but it’s been fun has made me feel lighter.

“Maybe you and him will work out.”

“And maybe you and Philip will as well.”

We weakly smile at one another, knowing we’re both liars.

+ + +

When we return to the resort, Laria hugs me and stalks off to her room. I head for Dallas’s house and find him pacing the porch. With a hand in his pocket and his phone up to his ear, he stops when he sees me approaching. His eyes narrow and he ends his phone call.

“You’re late.” His tone is concern mixed with agitation.

Checking my phone, it’s almost five. He normally returns around three.

“Well, I’m here now.” I climb the steps to the patio, giving a quick scan to the nearby bush for an iguana sighting. Thinking back on last night and all we did on this patio, I’m hopeful we drove the creepy reptile away.

“I was getting worried.” The rough concern in Dallas’s voice draws my attention back to him.

“What could possibly happen to two middle-aged women in a golf cart?”