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Rachel was part of a large group of friends that all shared a love of the beach and at any given time, a handful of us was bound to have plans somewhere in Newport Beach. We tried to see each other once a week, or once every other week if things were really crazy, and I knew that the nights we weren’t spending together, she was likely out with them. It never bothered me. She was far more social than I was and loved the nightlife and energy of being in a big group. But I couldn’t hold back a little seed of jealousy knowing she was out having the time of her life, and I was stuck inside, going stir crazy, on day one of the vacation I’d spent months building up in my mind.
I shook away the dark thought and went back to the kitchen. I just needed to eat something. That was the problem. I was getting all emotional over nothing. I’d been living life at a breakneck pace at work for the past three months. It was probably normal to need a day or two to adjust to a slower, more relaxed, easy going pace.
Right?
I thought about the fantastic bathtub in the upstairs bathroom and mentally calculated how much time I would need to soak away my anxiety. Probably just the same amount of time the lasagna still needed to get melty and bubbly. I smiled, grabbed my wine glass, and headed off upstairs on tiptoes so I wouldn’t disturb the still-sleeping destructo-pup.
“Ahhh, so much better.” I slid into the tub and sighed as the spa quality bath salts started going to work on my tense, tight muscles. My hand flopped over the side, barely holding onto the delicate stemware that held what was left of my glass of wine, most of it had been consumed while the monstrous bathtub filled up.
I woke to the sound of glass shattering. I bolted upright, taking a moment to orient myself. “Oh, shit! No, no, no.” After peeking over the edge and seeing the broken shards of the wine glass, I pressed my eyes closed. “Nicely done, Holly. Less than six hours into your vacation and you already managed to break something…”
By the time I got the bathroom cleared of all the broken glass, Hunter was awake and howling to go outside. I wrapped myself in my floor length bathrobe on my way out of the bedroom, back downstairs where Hunter was pawing at the French doors. “Come on, boy.” I patted my leg and he raced over to get leashed up.
Armed with a plastic bag, we ventured out into the night. Hunter tugged frantically against the leash as soon as we stepped onto the back deck. I raced to keep up with him, one hand pulling the leash to restrain him, the other keeping a firm grip on the sash for my robe. My first day had been a disaster enough without flashing the entire neighborhood.
When I finally managed to drag Hunter off the sand and back into the house, my nose was met with the distinct smell of burnt cheese.
“Mother…” I hurled myself across the house to the kitchen, pried the oven door open, and burst into frustrated tears at the lump of black coated mush that had started as a carefully crafted lasagna. I stuffed oven mitts onto my hands, tore the dish from the oven, and dropped it with a loud thud onto the counter where I’d set out trivets.
I squeezed my eyes closed as I braced against the counter, fighting back frustrated tears. After taking a deep breath, I slid the mitts off, tossed them onto the counter beside the ruined dinner, and flicked off the lights as I trudged out of the kitchen, ready to take my defeated ass to bed. The only thing to do was get a good night sleep and hope that things looked better in the morning.
6
Holly
My stomach woke me up promptly the following morning, after going to sleep with nothing in my system. As I stirred, my feet found something warm and solid. I pulled up the covers and smiled at the brown ball of fur huddled under the thin coverlet.
“Hey sleepy, you ready for some breakfast?” I poked Hunter with my toes and laughed when he opened his eyes halfway, his expression was dazed and dopey. I dropped the covers, rolled from the bed, and hurried to get ready. On the drive into town the previous afternoon, I’d seen a cute little coffee shop that looked like the perfect place to get breakfast and was eager to try it out.
I leashed Hunter up and started off down the beach, looping back in the direction of the coffee shop. Halfway there, Hunter caught the scent of something and picked up the pace. I laughed when he came to a stop in front of the coffee shop. “Good idea, buddy.” I scratched his ears. The patio off to the side of the shop had a handful of tables but no occupants. I looped Hunter’s leash around the leg of a chair, pat him on the head, and went inside the shop.
