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“A cheeseburger wrapper? Even worse,” said Vanessa. “This reminds me, as a pediatrician, that childhood obesity is a national epidemic. In the States, anyhow. I’m trying to come up with ways to singlehandedly solve this problem, like maybe a line of pre-packaged healthy kids’ snacks and microwavable meals. What do y’all think?”
“Yeah, a cheeseburger wrapper is totally worse,” Alanna continued, ignoring Vanessa. “He said it was his brother’s, but I know he was lying because it was crumpled into a ball, and he likes to crumple everything up into a ball.”
“I love Mulliver’s. Do you really consider them to be junk food?” asked Deb. She looked seriously concerned. “I think maybe they’re kind of healthy, right? Mmm, I’m
getting hungry just thinking about that place. Mmm, Mulliver’s Milky Malt! Lemon Snow Shavers! Pot Roast Lunch Bucket! Mmmm.”
“What’s a Lemon Snow Shaver? It sounds delicious,” said Vanessa. “Do you think it would fit into my childhood obesity food plan? I mean, kids gotta go out to eat still, right?”
“Debbie, where’s your loyalty?” asked Alanna. “I thought you always had my back.”
“You’re right. What a creep that Antonio turned out to be,” said Deb. “I can’t believe he left you to be with his brother, when you two were just starting out.”
“Exactly. We were only together maybe a month total, but the lies and deceptions he packed into that month are more than I may ever recover from. And how were we supposed to heal from everything he did to me? With talking and drumming and chanting! No wonder we were doomed! Those froo-froo counselors didn’t understand or appreciate that I am a traditional girl. Worldly and sophisticated, yet basic. I’m Prada, not Juicy Couture, ya know? I’m simple. I mean, for God’s sake, I’m Canadian. That’s right, I’m a Canadian too,” she said, interrupting her story for the benefit of the middle aged woman in fleece.
“Get me oat of here,” muttered the Canadian to her book.
“The final straw was at our second therapy session when one of the counselors suggested that we not be engaged yet. Can you imagine? I had a gorg ring that I was supposed to give back? It was platinum! Ugh. Such a bad day. Antonio agreed with the counselor. We had a big fight and broke up. And now I’m here. Oh, and to top it all off, now I have loyalty and trust issues. Thanks, Antonio.”
“That’s a sad story, but we’re glad you’re here,” said Deb.
“Okay, your time is up,” said a producer. The camera guys stretched and got ready. The door burst open. It was Klassie, on her roller skates, a topaz and diamond brooch shaped like a gigantic spider pinned at her hip. She clomped in and then skated around us in circles, smiling, waiting for one of us to comment on her winnings.
“My floor, my floor,” said Albergo, who had returned with his cart of goodies.
“Yes, I’ve heard that before. Why is everyone so hung up on material stuff? You can always get a new floor. Look at my prize,” she said, showing us the brooch. “It’s vintage Deluxe from the Deluxe vault. Each girl is going to get one that is unique this time. Just like all of us.” She flung her leg out and spun down into a spiral, collapsing dramatically in a heap.
“Hello, ladies,” said Catalina Cartwright. We all clapped. Deb sucked in her stomach a second too late. It was the first time we’d seen Catalina since we’d arrived in Italy. “Please join me in the lounge,” she said. She was wearing a long orange dress with a matching mask that she held on a tiny stick at the side of her face. We followed her into a dark interior room filled with candles and mirrors. The room was breathtakingly beautiful. We oohed and ahhed appreciatively.
“The theme for tonight’s cocktail party will be Masquerade Ball,” said Catalina. “You will all get to wear vintage gowns and masks, and you’ll each get the opportunity to spend plenty of one-on-one time with Bellamy. But first, there will be a casual lunch cruise with Bellamy, so get ready. He will be here in about an hour.”
“Me too?” asked Klassie.
“Yes, all of you,” said Catalina.
“No fair,” said Deb, since Klassie had just spent all morning with Bellamy. “Just kidding,” she added. “I forgive you.”
We all ran off to get ready, trying our best to interpret what attire was most suited for a casual Venetian lunch cruise. Or, as Deb kept accidentally calling it, our Vietnamese boat ride. When we rejoined one another down in the lounge, we discovered that we all had very different ideas of what made a casual outfit. Klassie had on the same outfit she’d worn to brunch, but she had switched her skates for tall combat boots.
“Do you think these are good enough?” she asked me. “This is how I look in real life, and I want him to know the real me.”
“In that case I think they’re perfect,” I said. I really did mean it. I suppose the other girls thought I was trying to sabotage her.
Deb was wearing maroon silk overalls with a lace shirt underneath. It was possibly the worst outfit I’d ever seen.
“I love these overalls,” she told us. “They’re from Dress Barn. Or no, maybe not. Does Dress Barn sell clothes that aren’t dresses? Gosh, I can’t remember. I normally wear them for church concerts and stuff like that. Only then, in that case, I wear a turtleneck underneath instead of this lace top. You wouldn’t probably guess this since most of them are carnival folk, but my family is very conservative and shy. We’re not your usual carnival people. We’re part of a Christian gambling and carnival ring.”
“It sounds like the best of all worlds,” said Klassie.
“It is. We have some unique ways about us. But back to my outfit, I’ve had it for years. It’s just, you know, my very favorite. It has to be dry-cleaned. So, as much as I said I would share anything I brought with all of you, please, please don’t ask to borrow these.”
“We won’t,” said Alanna, who had on jeans, heals, and a perfectly ragged t-shirt. She had painted her fingernails black and almost seemed edgy. Of course, she looked accidentally perfect. To prove how much she didn’t care, she was reading a yellowed copy of some vintage paperback with the cover torn off, her leg casually slung over the arm of the fancy chair she was sitting on.
I was wearing an off the shoulder mini-dress, pacing since the dress would crease if I sat down. I was wishing I had worn jeans as well.
Catalina reappeared, now dressed in a long, peach strapless gown. Her hair was slicked back and her lips were the exact same color as her face. Her eye makeup was severe. She looked so famous. “Where are Vanessa and Jessica?” she asked.
“They’ll be here soon,” said Klassie. “Vanessa was helping Jessica with her makeup.”
