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I lifted my chin. “Okay. Fine. We’ll stop treating you differently.”
“Good.” She crossed her legs. “Now, what were you going to say that I know you stopped yourself from saying?”
I quirked a smile. “Well, if you must know, I was going to say, ‘At the rate you’ve been drinking since we got off that damn ship, you’d better make sure to alternate drinking hands, or your right arm is gonna look like The Hulk’s.’”
She stared at me for a second, and I worried maybe I’d said something to hurt her even more than I knew she already was, but instead, she burst into loud, belly laughter.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” She grabbed her drink with her left hand and did some arm lifts with it up to her lips. “This is how I want you all to treat me from now on. Don’t hold back. Absolutely nothing has changed. Capeesh?”
“Capeesh,” we all echoed.
“So, now that’s taken care of, let’s get back to enjoying our stay here in Cozumel. We need to enjoy as many moments here as we can before we all get eaten by sharks.”
The color pooled out of Doris’s face again, and I held back my snort.
We finished our dinner, and as we walked through the resort back to our rooms, the rhythmic sounds of a mariachi band caught our attention.
“Oh! Where is that coming from?” Sylvie spun in circles. Finally, she found the source of the music. A bar beside the pool had a party with live music, colorful lights, and a crowd of dancing tourists. Sylvie grabbed my hand, tugging me behind her. “Come on, ladies. We’re going dancing.”
“Dancing?” I dragged my heels, but she pulled harder. “I don’t dance.”
“We’re dancing. We’re in Mexico, and there is a live mariachi band. We’re dancing.” She didn’t slow down, and I glanced behind me to see Alice and Doris hustling to keep up.
When we got to the bar, Sylvie pulled me straight onto the dance floor and started shaking her hips, swinging my arms back and forth.
“I’m not dancing,” I argued as I stood in the center of the dancing crowd.
“Oh, come on, Marge,” Alice said as she shimmied beside me. “Loosen up. Dancing is good for the soul.”
She broke out in some fancy moves that caught the attention of the crowd surrounding us.
“Whoo!” Doris hooted as she jumped in beside Sylvie, shaking her hips and spinning around.
“Come on, Marge!” Sylvie grinned. “Dance with us!”
The salty, tropical air. The smell of coconut drinks and suntan lotion. The sound of the music. As much as I didn’t want to dance, the atmosphere started to coax me out of my shell. The music started thumping through me, and to hell if my toes didn’t start tapping along. Then my leg, then my hip, and finally, I said, “Screw it!” and tossed my hands in the air and joined them.
The four of us held hands and danced in circles, sheer joy radiating off us as we lost ourselves in the music. We danced until everything ached, then we collapsed onto the stools along the bar.
“Four tequilas,” Alice called to the bartender.
“Oh. I said no tequila.” Doris chewed her lip.
“You’ll be fine,” Alice soothed. “Just don’t drink the worm.”
Doris’s eyes bulged. “A worm!?”
“There is no worm. You’ll be fine.” Sylvie craned her neck around and secretly scolded Alice with a frown. “That’s mezcal that has the worm, not tequila.”
“You’re sure?” Doris watched the bartender pour the bottle intently.
“I’m sure.”
“Well then, I better order some mezcal and get Doris some extra protein.” Alice grinned.
“Alice!” Sylvie scolded on a laugh.
The bartender arrived with our four shots, and as he placed them in front of us, the young, handsome man locked eyes with Alice. The way his hungry gaze roved over her caused the tiniest flicker of life to crackle back on in her eyes.
