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The magnificent, five-starDiamondresort had officially lost its luster.
New York Tri-State Area, Saturday night, May 27th
Twenty-four hours earlier than I’d planned, Georgia and I found ourselves at home, sitting on the couch, with Walter and Stan cuddled up on either side. A just-delivered pizza and breadsticks and drinks sat on the coffee table in front of us, and Georgia scrolled through the latest Netflix releases, trying to find a movie to watch.
We’d left Cabo in a rush this morning, all in the name of getting away from our “perfect little getaway” before more disaster occurred.The fucking irony.We’d literally had to escape the early Valentine’s surprise that I’d planned to show Georgie that her supposed curse wasn’t real, and in the process, I’m pretty sure that shit had blown up spectacularly—right in my face.
The only way our trip could have gone any worse was if we’d stayed to finish it.
Other people could call us paranoid all they wanted, but until they’d experienced being stalked by actual mariachi monkeys and doused by the sprinkler system in their hotel room in the name of Thatch’s idea of romance, they had no right to comment on the matter.
“What do you feel like watching?” Georgia asked, still determined to find a movie that fit both the criteria we always strove for—neither of us had seen it, and both of us wanted to see it.
But fuck me, it was a tall order to carry out.
Truthfully, this was a common theme and conundrum with us.
We alwayswantedto find a new movie, spent a shitload of time tryingto finda new movie, but in the end, we ended up watching a movie we’d both already seen or reruns ofThe Office.
In the digital age of technology, with everything at the tips of our fingers, how could it still feel like there was nothing to watch? Your guess was as good as mine.
I grabbed a slice of pizza and took a bite, but before I could manage a second bite, my phone chimed from the coffee table.
Thatch: You still mad at me?
He’d been demon-texting me the same sentiment all day. I’d been ignoring every single one. I tossed my phone back on the table, and Georgia sighed.
She didn’t like discontentment in the friendship circle, even if she’d been the victim of this particular friend’s stupid schemes.
“You’re still not going to answer him?”
I shook my head. Not yet. Not if there was going to be any chance of letting him live.
Georgie sighed as my phone vibrated on the table again. I picked it up and read it—for some reason, I hadn’t been able to help myself—but I tossed it back down without responding again.
Thatch: C’mon, K. Don’t be mad. You know I was just trying to help you make Georgie’s getaway fun.
Make Georgie’s getaway fun?Ha.By the end of his attempts at helping with the fun, my wife was convinced we had to leave Cabo before we died in a hot air balloon.
Thatch: Also, for the fortieth time, I’d like to swear on the most perfectly perfect set of tits in the world, I did not send you and Georgia girl to a beat-the-meat market. If I’m lying, may they deflate right this moment, never to be fondled again.
Swearing on the destruction of tits was a pretty big deal for the giant bastard, so chances were, he was telling the truth about the swingers. But he was still behind everything else, so he could stew in his nerves while I enjoyed a fucking quiet night of pizza with my wife. Of course, my cell chimed a few more times, butfuck that crazy fucker.
“Oh, Kline! I’ve got it!” Georgia exclaimed, pointing the remote toward the TV.
I looked at the screen and saw Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan and the titleYou’ve Got Mail. “Baby, we’ve seen this movie a thousand times.”
“Because it’s the best rom-com movie ever! And oh my gosh!” She bounced up and down on the couch. “It reminds me so much of how our relationship started. We have to watch it.” she begged. “Please, please,please!”
Her enthusiasm made me grin. “You really want to watch it?”
“Yes!”
“Then, by all means, hit play.”
“Woo-hoo!” she exclaimed and leaned forward to press a smacking kiss to my lips.
Thank God she was so fucking adorable. It was like a balm to my constantly simmering anger.
