Callie is wearing a black one-piece, and the neckline vees all the way down to her hips. A gold band circles her waist, and she’s also wearing gold cuffs on each wrist. She looks like a sexed-up Wonder Woman. Tina is in a ruby-colored, prim two-piece that covers everything but her midriff. Fringe hangs over her tanned waist, and silver beads line the straps. Her chocolate-brown curls are satin-smooth and her feet are nestled in bright red peep-toes. She looks like a million bucks.
We all settle around the bar and shoot tequila. A dense cloud crosses in front of the sun, momentarily darkening the room, and I look around at each of these women, polished to a high sheen, and I feel downright dowdy. Margot tips more tequila into our shot glasses while Jill works the blender, blasting my ears.
“Callie, help me out with the food, will ya?” Jill asks as she pours slushy margaritas into oversize glasses. She places them neatly on a tray and follows Callie outside to the deck. Jill steps back inside and clasps her hands together. “Oh! I almost forgot the sangria! Callie, could you—” she says, but Callie is already back inside next to her, dragging a jug of crimson-colored wine from the fridge.
Margot leans over and whispers in my ear. “Callie may seem like a bull, but she does everything she’s told. At least she does for me.” The tequila is thick on her breath, so thick that I’m quite certain it’s only a fraction of the booze she’s already had today.
—
WE WANDER OUTSIDEto the deck. The sun is still snaking behind thick clouds, but the wood on the deck radiates heat like a sauna. After we graze on the dazzling buffet, I park myself on a lounge chair in the shade, underneath a white umbrella. Jill and Tina sink down into the chairs next to me, while Callie and Margot take the chairs on the adjoining side of the pool.
I realize I’m holding my drink close to my chest—I guess I’m afraid to let it out of my sight with Callie around.
Jill meanders over to the pool, sits on the side, and drags a foot through the water. “So, Margot, do tell. What’s the family drama?”
Margot’s eyes are still hidden behind her Jackie O glasses, and she lifts her margarita glass to her lips, takes a sip. Next to her, Callie stiffens as if she already knows the answer and is bracing for Margot’s reply.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Margot says dismissively.
“Kiddo stuff or hubby stuff?” Jill prods.
“Hubby stuff, if you must know, but seriously, drop it.”
Then Margot turns to me as if letting me in on a group secret. “Not everyone’s in this perfect relationship where their husband thinks they’re an angel.” She dips a finger into her margarita, swirls it around, takes it out and licks it.
“I amnot,” Jill says.
“No shit,” Margot says, sitting up and adjusting her top.
I take a long sip of the margarita, and my mouth puckers at the tanginess of it.
“But Alex, excuse me,Alexander, fucking worships you. If only he knew—”
Jill cuts her off, her thin voice teetering. “And that’s why we keep our stuff a secret.” She looks like she’s on the verge of tears, and she stares down into the pool water, her eyes trained on the tiny waves she’s making with her legs.
“Of course,” Margot says, her tone softer. “Sorry, Jilly. I’m just on edge. Jed is stressed out at work and he’s taking it all out on me.”
—
I THINK OFhis recent picture on Facebook, his almost menacing expression, and wonder if this is true. And I wonder, again, if Jed has found out about Brad.
“You should try fucking him sometimes. It does wonders,” Jill says. An impish grin spreads across her face. She lowers herself into the pool but immediately scrambles back to the side and climbs out. Goose bumps line her flesh, and the tips of her dark hair are dripping with water.
“A little does go a long way,” Tina pipes up.
Her glass is empty and she stands and saunters over to the giant pitcher for a refill.
“In Shreveport this past weekend, I had sex with Bill,” she says conspiratorially. “I wasn’t even in the mood, but we were in the hotel room and I knew he needed it. So, I did it! Quick and easy, like folding laundry,” she says, licking the salt off the rim of her glass. “And I must say, I actually got into it once we started. I mean, when we first got together, I couldn’t peel myself off of him, but after ten years of marriage, it does start to get a little predictable,” she giggles.
No one is laughing with her or even really listening. I feel bad, so I smile and nod as if I understand everything she’s saying.
Margot rises from her chair, slinks over to the pool. Dips a toe in the water. Her olive skin is slick with suntan oil and she absentmindedly rubs the tops of her thighs.
“How longhasit been?” Jill asks Margot.
“God, would you ever fuck off with that?” Callie snaps from across the pool.
“And youreallyneed to get some,” Jill says, pointing at Callie. Callie shoots her the middle finger.
