I stiffen at the intonation of her word. “Why is it wrong for me to want to make my grandfather happy? Because he’s a man? He was the only person in the whole world who hasn’t ever let me down. Can’t say that about any of the women in my life.” I say with a pointed look of my own.
She flushes and looks like she might want to say something. But I don’t let her.
“I know I failed you. But I was trying to help. Because I love you, Matty. But what you just said … I’ll never forgive.” My voice is even and steady, but there is no mistaking the rage behind them. I feel incandescent with it and if my words were flames borne of it, they would be hot enough to flay the skin off her bones.
I see a flash of remorse in her eyes before she lifts her chin upward defiantly. “Well, at least we’re finally on the same page.”
I can’t hide my regret; I’m nearly drowning in it. I wish things had been different.
At one point in my life, she’d been my best friend.
But now, all of that is done. Friendships live and die by the choices we make. She’s made hers and now, I’m finally making mine.
Without another word, I turn and walk back to the valet stand, get in my car and drive away.
8 Years Later
CABO SAN JOSE, MEXICO
Femme Fatale
Stone
I glance around the packed shuttle with dismay. On my way to town I’d been alone. I don’t mind people, but this kind of proximity to a bunch of sweaty, sand covered strangers is less than ideal. Especially because whatever the opposite of resting bitch face is, I have it.
On planes, in grocery stores, and even at funerals, people look at me and decide that I’m the person they’re going to unburden themselves with.
So, even though the sun was setting by the time the shuttle pulled up, the crowd of people waiting to board with me meant that I’d need my sunglasses to continue to act as my small talk deterrent.
It’s rude, I know. And normally, I’d just close my eyes and pretend to sleep during the thirty-minute ride back, but I don’t know when I’ll be back here again, and I want to see this city at night.
I came into town planning to get my business sorted with plenty of time left to sightsee. San Jose, the other side of Los Cabos, is not as rarified as San Lucas is – and definitely more my speed.
It’s where my friend Pedro told me I could find someone to help me plan a multi-day excursion on the Baja Peninsula.
The first part of my day went off without a hitch. But instead of sightseeing, I spent hours listening to my ex-girlfriend curse at me as she left my apartment with a box full of things she kept there. After that I was on the phone with locksmiths, utility and security companies, and all of the other places where we had joint accounts.
Then, my brother called to tell me that he’d forgotten to get his passport renewed. So, I found an expedited service for him and made sure it would be there before he left for Mexico on Friday morning.
By the time I was done, the alarm I’d sent to remind me that the last shuttle back to the resort was leaving in twenty minutes had gone off.
Now, a fat, glowing moon sits low on the horizon taking the sky from light blue to shades of deep indigo and violet.
As the dark transforms the sky, it also transforms the city.
The produce markets and street vendors selling tourist friendly relics that were omnipresent on my way through San Jose this morning are gone. In their place are musicians, magicians, soothsayers and doomsday prophets. A line snakes around the corner from a food stall that’s selling parcels of piping hot bread stuffed with strips of meat, tomatoes, onions, and a red sauce that runs unchecked down the fingers of the happy people stuffing their faces with it.
The sliding windows of the vehicle are open, and the cool Pacific breeze carries the mouthwatering aroma of it all. My stomach grumbles and I wish I’d at least had a chance to eat.
If I didn’t have a call with my boss in an hour, I’d get off right now and worry about how I’d get back to the resort, later.