She thought it, though.She thought it many, many times.
EMILY: The Spa
“So,” I said, squirming a little to scoot the towel wrapped around me so that it was more comfy.“Here we all are, a bunch of married women and me.I assume a solid round of matronly advice is to be passed out.”
“Bridal advice!”Kathie said, stretching out on the upper wooden plank of the sauna.“Ah, this heat is glorious.Sweat-inducing, but glorious.Really makes you feel like your pores are flowing freely.”
“And now I have to visit the restroom,” Mom said, getting up, but snagging a glass of champagne from Daisy, the spa owner, as she brought us beverages before checking the temperature was to our liking.
“Sorry,” Kathie called after Mom toddled off.“I forgot you have a weak bladder.”
“Kegels,” Marla said, fanning herself with one hand, while accepting a flute of champagne with the other.“So good for the pelvic floor.”
“We Kegel for five minutes a day, each morning while we’re having our breakfast,” Holly told me.“I don’t know that it’s doing any good, but I figure it can’t hurt.”
“They are supergood for you.My ob-gyn says every Kegel you do can mean not using one pair of old-lady bladder pants down the line,” Kathie said, taking the glass Holly offered.“Now, this is what I call fun: sauna heat with ice-cold champagne.”
“My mother—who we won’t go into now, because she’s got more issues than a periodical, and also because I just met all of you excepting for Emily—always scoffed at the idea of Kegels, and just look at where that landed her—with a bladder holder-upper device.”Amy leaned against the wooden wall, her legs stretched out in front of her on the bench.I was glad to see she’d gotten over the worst of feeling awkward, and was now obviously relaxed and enjoying herself.
“A what, now?”I asked.
“Pessary,” Mom said as she reentered the room, glass in hand.“Your grandma has one, Emily.It’s why I taught you girls to do those hoo-haw exercises.”
“Kegels,” Amy, Holly, and Marla said with synchronized perfection.
“Right, so married-women advice number one: Kegel more.Gotcha.”I sipped at my own beverage.I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I did like champagne, and this one was particularly light and bubbly.“I promise I’ll start a daily Kegel regime.What other bride advice do you guys have?”
The silence that followed my question was broken only by Mom absentmindedly ladling water onto the stones.The enveloping cloud of steam filled the small sauna.
“And that wraps up the ‘advice to the bride’ portion of the hen party,” I said with a little giggle into my champagne glass.
“It’s not that I wouldn’t love to give you advice, but you’ve been living quite happily with Fang for fourteen years, and I don’t think any suggestions I have are going to be better than what you two are doing.Together.Not sex, the other.Interactions,” Mom said, waving her hand, which unfortunately was the one holding her champagne glass, spilling some of it onto her bare leg.“Whoops.I can’t possibly be tiddly on half a glass of champers.”
“One,” I said, looking sternly at her as I handed her my spare towel, which I was covertly using to wipe up the under-boob sweat, “you most definitely are heading straight for snockered, and two, since when do you say the word ‘champers’?That’s wholly out of character.”
“Your dad makes me watch his favorite British TV shows,” she said, mopping up her leg before refilling her glass.
Holly and Marla had been whispering together, and as one, they turned to face me.Holly gave me a wry smile and said, “I hate to fail you if you really need advice, but I agree with your mother.You and Fang are so happy together.What could we suggest other than what you’re doing?”
“Kegels aside,” Marla said.Her expression changed to one of abstracted thought.“In fact, I’m going to do a minute or two of them now, since we all know how alcohol runs through you.”
“Good idea.I wonder if I can do it lying down?”Kathie asked.“Hey, I can!This may open up new avenues of possibilities.”
I looked around at the women in the sauna.Each and every one of them had that same look of distracted focus.
“You all look constipated,” I told them.“Wait.Let me try.Someone tell me if I look like that, too.”
“Oh, definitely,” Kathie said, lifting her head to squint at me.“You look like you haven’t pooped in a week.”
I released the inner muscles and sighed.“Fine, I won’t do it in front of Fang.We can spend the rest of our time in the sauna shooting the breeze, metaphorically speaking.”
Lazy chat followed for a bit, Mom and Amy and Kathie talking about their lives back in the US, while Holly, Marla, and I gossiped like old ladies.
But it was when I caught something my aunt said that I leaned back to look at her.
“—doesn’t want to sell, of course, but he’s refusing to admit he doesn’t recover from injury as fast as he used to.”
“Is he not able to go out with the sheep?”Mom asked.
