Notes from a Spinning Planet—Mexico (21 page)

I inwardly cringe but don't say anything. Poor Shelby.

“Ah,” she says. “This feels good. Thanks, you guys. Sorry I'm being such a baby.”

“It's okay,” says Sid. “Under the circumstances, it's understandable.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Hopefully the Benadryl will kick in, and the itching will go away completely.”

“Man, I hope so.”

“I got you some ointment too,” says Sid. “It's supposed to help with itching.”

“Thanks.”

Then we leave her to soak.

“What was in that drink Shelby was sipping?” asks Sid suspiciously. I tell her the recipe, and she smiles. “That sounds good.”

So I repeat my formula to make ditto drinks, and we take them out to the terrace and sit down. “Ahh,” I say, leaning back. “This is more like it.”

Sid lets out a long sigh. “Yes. Just when I was starting to feel relaxed this afternoon, this woman begins screaming at me in Spanish, and then Shelbys half-dead. Good grief.”

I hold my glass up as if to toast. “Here's to better days ahead,” I say. We clink glasses, then chuckle.

“Well, we're out of here tomorrow,” she says. “And then it's adiós to Shelby.”

“What about our intervention plan?” I ask, noticing it's after five now. Ian and Ryan should be home soon.

“Oh, drat. I better call them and tell them its off. Poor Shelby. I think she's had a totally different kind of intervention.”

“Yeah, I almost jumped for joy when the doctor said no booze.”

“You and me both.”

“I'll call the guys,” I tell Sid, “and check on the patient.”

“Yes, we wouldn't want her to drown in the tub.”

I make the phone call and explain to Ian what happened. “Did you guys catch any fish?”

“Ryan caught an impressive striped marlin. Catch and release, of course.”

“Well, good for him.”

“Yes. He was quite happy. The fish was more than a hundred pounds.”

“Wow.”

Then he reminds me of our dinner plans. “Our reservation isn't until seven thirty.”

“Oh, that's good. We were just relaxing.”

“Relaxing after your day at the spa.”

Then I point out how the scene with Shelby detracted from the whole relaxing part.

“Yes, I can imagine. We'll come by for you at about seven,” he says.

“Sounds great. See you then.”

I go and check on Shelby, and she seems fairly subdued in the soda bath. She's finished off her drink. Without saying anything to her, I go and make her another one and bring her a bottle of water.

“Remember, the doctor said plenty of fluids,” I say as I set the drinks beside her.

“Yeah, but the wrong kinds of fluids,” she complains.

“Enjoy your bath,” I say lightly, getting away before she starts begging me for something stronger again.

Sid and I just lounge around on the terrace, visiting and enjoying the view and, later, the sunset. Our last night in Mexico.

“This trip hasn't exactly been what you expected,” she says to me.

“But it's been good,” I tell her.

She sighs. “I think it's been
very
good.”

“We've hardly talked,” I say. “I mean, it's been so busy. You've been with Ian, and I was helping Francesca.”

“And then there was Shelby.”

I laugh. “Yes. And then there was Shelby.”

“I cant believe we go home tomorrow. It's gone by too fast.”

“So, tell me,” I begin. “Hows it going with Ian? I mean, I can tell you guys are having a good time and everything, but is it more than that?”

“Oh, I don't know.”

“Come on, Sid. This is me, Maddie. You have to know.”

“Oh, I know how I feel.

“And that is?”

“Well, I…1 love him, Maddie.”

I sit up straight now. “You mean
love
him ‘love him'?”

She smiles and sort of laughs.

“So this really is serious?”

“That's where I'm not so sure. We live so far apart, and I'm fully aware Ian has had girlfriends, for the most part not too seriously. What if I'm just another one of those?”

“You're not,” I tell her. “I can tell by the way he looks at you.”

She laughs again. “Oh you can, can you? And since when did you get to be such an expert on middle-aged men, Madison Chase?”

I shrug. “I don't know…but I can tell.”

“Well, speaking of men, I suppose we should think about getting ready. My hair is still goopy from all the oil and stuff today. I really need to clean up.”

“Me too.”

“And we should check on our patient.”

“That's right,” I say, getting up. “She's probably turned into a prune by now.”

“That might be an improvement.”

But Shelby's out of the tub now. I can hear her rummaging around in her room, but I doubt she's getting ready to go out tonight. I cannot imagine her wanting to show that puffy red face to the public just yet. Still, she might have some magic beauty potion tucked away in her pile of cosmetics in there. She could emerge looking just as gorgeous as ever, and I almost wouldn't be surprised.

I shower after Sid, taking time to condition my hair, which should help tame my wild curls, and I even shave my legs, which seems a little like overkill since I shaved them just yesterday. But, I remind myself, this is New Year's Eve, after all, and we are going out. Maybe even dancing. I've already decided I'll wear the dress I bought in Todos Santos. I think the texture of the soft white cotton will feel nice against my skin after all that great exfoliating and the other treatments today. And as I check myself out in the mirror, I'm thinking,
Hey, not bad.
I wonder why I was so bummed about my looks a few days ago. Okay, I realize I got sucked into the old comparison game— the game where no one wins. Suddenly it seems not only childish but totally foolish as well.

“You look stunning,” says Sid when I emerge, fresh and clean and feeling good.

“Speak for yourself,” I tell her. “That's a gorgeous dress. Man, it really sets off your eyes and your tan. You're going to knock Ian's socks off, Sid.”

“Well, I hope we all have fun.”

“What about Shelby?” I ask. “I feel sort of bad leaving her home on New Years Eve.”

“According to the doctor, she'll be fine. And there's leftover food in the fridge if she gets hungry,” Sid points out. “Some pretty good leftovers, if I do say so myself. The girl won't starve because we're gone. I also left a note by the phone with my cell phone number as well as the hotel emergency number. I think we've got it all covered.”

“You think she'll be okay alone?”

“Maybe we should check on her again before we leave.”

“Yeah. And maybe I should leave some Benadryl for her in case the itching comes back.”

“Good idea.”

So I get a bottle of water from the fridge and take out two caplets, then write a note, explicitly telling Shelby she shouldn't take these until ten thirty, and then only if needed. I go and quietly knock on her door. I get a little concerned when she doesn't answer. But I crack it open enough to see her sprawled across the bed, still wearing the white terry bathrobe. Her mouth is gaping open, and she's snoring. Rather loudly too. I set the water, pills, and note next to the clock on her bedside table, then quietly close the door and inform Sid that our patient appears to be resting nicely “As in, dead to the world,” I add. “And without the help of alcohol too.”

“It's probably just a side effect of the Benadryl,” says Sid. “It always makes me drowsy.”

“That's probably a good thing. It'll help her get through the night without thinking she missed out on much.”

“And maybe it'll help her to experience some sobriety. Who knows, she might even like it.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “I doubt she'll be running out to any bars tonight.”

“And maybe we can have that little chat with her tomorrow.”

“Happy New Year, Shelby,” I say quietly in the direction of her bedroom door.

“And here's to a better year next time around,” says Sid.

We hear the guys at the front door. Not wanting to disturb our patient, we quickly let ourselves out.

an lets out a low whistle as Sid and I step out the door. “Very lovely, ladies,” he says with approval. “Ryan and I are a lucky pair of blokes.”

Ryan nods. “Yeah, you both look fantastic.”

“You guys aren't so bad yourselves,” says Sid, winking at me.

I feel a little apprehensive as we walk to the car. Part of me is still worried about Shelby. I'm sure she'll be okay, but I do feel bad about leaving her home alone, especially on New Year's Eve. Hopefully, she'll just sleep all night and feel fine tomorrow. Another part of me is uneasy about tonight. I mean, it's obvious that Sid and Ian are a couple. But it almost feels as if Ryan and I have been thrust together for convenience's sake. And I can't quite shake the fact that only days ago he seemed fairly smitten by Shelby. I know what he said about not liking the girl she's become, but I suspect he's sort of grieving the girl she once was. I can't help but wonder how he'd feel if she quit drinking and straightened out her life. Still, I tell myself to give it a rest as we get into Sid's rental car. Why not just enjoy my last night in Cabo?

Ian drives toward town. We still don't know where our mystery dinner location is, but I'm sure it'll be good. Ryan and I are in the
backseat. I keep thinking this feels like a double date. Even though I want to have fun tonight, I remind myself not to get too excited about being with Ryan. I mean, he's definitely said some sweet things to me in the past twenty-four hours, but I also know I shouldn't assume anything. We are not really a couple. Just good friends.

So I begin to make small talk with him. I ask about his fishing trip, and he tells me about landing the striped marlin. His eyes light up as he talks, and he uses his hands to demonstrate how difficult it was to reel the big fish in, and he tells how excited he was to see the size of it and how there's a photo back at the resort. This is the old Ryan I remember getting close to in Ireland.

Then he somberly inquires about Shelby's health, and I give him the update, assuring him that other than looking a little worse for wear, she is okay. “Just no more spa treatments anytime soon,” I say. “I wonder if it was the seaweed.”

He shakes his head. “I don't know why anyone would want to be wrapped in seaweed in the first place. I thought about how crazy that was when I got my line all wrapped in seaweed this afternoon. Just doesn't make sense.”

Ian laughs from the front seat. “I'm with you on that, Ryan. You couldn't pay me to get covered in that muck.”

“I felt like that at first,” I admit. “And it was kind of cold and yucky. But then as it dries, it feels sort of good. It's hard to explain.”

“It's a chick thing,” says Sid. “Best that we don't tell the guys all our secrets, Maddie.”

“Right.”

“Speaking of secrets,” says Sid as Ian drives around in the dock
area. “I don't think there are any restaurants down here by the docks. Are you lost, Ian?”

“Ah,” he says, pointing to a guy holding up a sign I cant quite read. “There's my man.”

He pulls up by the guy and tells us to get out of the car. Then he hands his keys over.

“What are we doing?” asks Sid as Ian takes her arm and begins to lead us down a dock.

“Are we going fishing?” I ask.

“Just be patient, ladies.”

As we walk down the long dock, past yachts and fishing boats, I notice a large, well-lit boat off to the right.

“Is this a dinner cruise?” asks Sid with excitement in her voice.

“Bingo!” says Ian.

“What a fantastic idea,” I say as we walk up the gangplank to the boat.

“How did you manage this?” asks Sid after we're greeted and led to an area where drinks and appetizers are being served.

“My fishing friend told me about it,” says Ian as he leads us to a place to sit on one of the upper decks of the boat. “When he heard I own a restaurant in Ireland, he told me all about his father, who runs this dinner-cruise boat. He said he could get us a reservation tonight.”

“That's some friend,” says Sid. “Getting a table on New Year's Eve must be no small feat.”

Ian nods. “Like they say, it's not what you know but who you know.”

“Well, I think it's totally cool,” I say.