Page 62 of Cuts like a Knife
“But you just said yourself, you’re ahead of schedule. Shooting today isn’t supposed to start for awhile. The car isn’t coming for awhile. Why don’t you let me show you the beach?”
“Drew. I don’t have time to go to the beach. I’m here to work.” Which is true. “Anyway, I already have a plan for beach time later in the week. And it doesn’t involve you.”
He laughs. “So mean. Fine, I hear you, but come on. Live a little. It’s a half-hour. Nothing major. Come dip your toes in the sea. Then we’ll head back over to the hotel. Trust me, the cove is worth seeing.”
One of the most frustrating things about Drew is that he does know me. Or at least, he knows far too much about me. That’s what happens when you hook up with your baby brother’s best friend and it’s probably why a smarter person would never have started anything with such a person in the first place.
We spent so much time together as kids and have way too much shared history. He knows I love the ocean. He knows beaches are my favorite. He knows I secretly love fireworks, even though they’re terrible for the environment and emotionally bad for lots of humans and pets as well.
He knows how I like my eggs. And that I’m prone to say things I don’t really mean. He knows how I like to be kissed. He knows I’m full of crap most of the time. He knows me too well208.
But all that aside, the truth is … I would love to see the beach.
“Okay fine. Half an hour. No more.”
“Great. Come on then, Miss Serious. But change your clothes first.”
I look down at my professional attire then back at him. He’s right of course. I already know he’s right. And I hate that.
“I’m not going to change my clothes,” I say.
“You’re overdressed for the day. Nobody else is going to be looking like a reporter.”
“How would you know?”
“Because it’s obvious? You guys are all here to work, but you’re also basically extras, right? All of us are. We end up in shots on the show, hanging around at the hotel. They’re want us to look like regular resort guests.”
“How would you know?”
Drew shrugs. “I thought it was obvious. Besides, they made it pretty explicit. Didn’t you get a press packet? With the instructions?”
My mind flashes back to the green folder Dani gave me on Friday afternoon. I’d taken a look inside. I’d skimmed it. It was mostly press releases that I’d already seen — announcing the new cycle and “unprecedented” blitz filming schedule. I hadn’t bothered looking at every single page…
“Oh fine,” I say reluctantly to Drew. I won’t go so far as to admit he’s right, but whatever.
“Give me a second to grab my stuff, then I’ll give you some privacy.”
He slips into the bedroom and grabs his bag, and once he’s out I pop back in to rifle through my own.
I packed pretty light so I don’t have all that many options, but … I’m no fool. A free trip to the Bahamas is a free trip to the Bahamas. Even if it is for work. I’ve packed denim shorts, and a couple of tee shirts, the tank swimsuit, shades, sunblock, even a couple of sundresses and a pair of espadrilles. As well as flip flops.
I put on the bathing suit instead of underwear, and select one of the sundresses. It’s a sort of burnt orange color. Not especially pretty, but it was made by a fair trade women’s collective from organic cotton and natural dye, so I felt good about buying it.
When I emerge, Drew is ready too. He’s got on longish khaki shorts, and a short-sleeved button-up shirt (unbuttoned209) and has hung a hibiscus-patterned beach towel around his neck like a scarf.
He looks like a Beach Ken doll. If Ken had dark hair, green gimlet eyes, and an eight pack.
“The towels belong to the cottage,” he says, handing me a bright yellow one the color of SpongeBob.
Wait, it is SpongeBob. The whole towel is a giant SpongeBob. I can’t help but giggle as a I clock it.
“We can trade if you want,” Drew says.
“No, I like SpongeBob,” I say, and immediately, a memory pops into my mind.
The first time Drew and I kissed. Ever. As teenagers.
It was summer and we were all at the camp — back in the day my parents used to rent a summer cabin in the mountains. It was part of a group of structures, all surrounding a small, flat lake in the Harken Valley area. At first, it was just us, but in the 90s the tradition grew to include Drew’s family (his mother and mine were good friends) as well as our cousins, the Spragues, and a variety of rotating friends and acquaintances. Di wouldn’t come without her friend Lou, for example. And Gray always had Drew with him, even before the whole Fox family starting coming up210.
