first wedding. He’s having another wedding in Houston complete with church, and a huge party in a few months.
I’ll be starting my three-month stint as part of a medical staff on site at a refugee camp on the border of Colombia and Venezuela in a month and can’t get away.
So, his fiancé, Confidence, decided to have this surprise beachside ceremony, because she knew how it was important to Hayes that all his brothers be there when he says, “I do.” As much as I hate resorts and weddings, there was no way I’d miss it.
When I went to add the date to my calendar, it coincided with a lunar event I added months ago. One of the best places to see it, according to my astronomy sources. The Baja Peninsula.
I was ten years old when I stopped believing in luck. But every once in a while, there’s an alignment of moments and events so perfectly timed that there’s no other explanation.
The stars aligned on this trip and I’ve got a really good feeling about it. Besides getting to see my favorite planet, the excursion I planned is the stuff of my adrenaline junkie heart’s dreams. I’ve got four days packed with things that make my heart race just to think about.
“Is this your first time here?” The woman next to me asks and I stifle a groan. I was doing so well. Resigned to my fate and raised better than to ignore anyone who speaks to me, I respond.
“In Baja, yes,” I say conversationally, but briefly. I don’t smile or even make eye contact.
I pray that she’ll take a hint. My prayers fall on deaf ears.
“Where are you staying at the resort? We’re up in the hills. We’re here for our anniversary, and I told him,” she jerks a thumb at the man on her right. “I wanted five stars and nothing less. Didn’t I honey?” She slaps the arm of the man next to her.
“Sure did, honey.” He gives me an apologetic smile and pats his wife’s knee less out of affection and more in warning.
She pushes it away and turns until her back is to him.
“I’m Carol and this is my husband, Ron, we’re from Oklahoma” she says and sticks her hand out. I give up trying to pretend I’m sleeping and shake her hand.
“Hi, I’m Paul, from Texas,” I say, using my middle name the way I do to make reservations, or order coffee, or anything that requires someone to write down or repeat my name back to me.
“That’s our daughter Bailey and her son, Emmet.” She points down the row at a young woman with a small toddler on her lap.
“That’s Eric, he’s Emmet’s’ father,” she says with a small frown before she sits back.
The man she’s gesturing to is staring straight ahead like his life depends on it. He doesn’t say a word or look in our direction. His ticking jaw is the only indication that he heard her.
“They’re just friends.” Carol conspiratorial whispers aren't remotely discreet.
“We didn’t bring her up like that. Don’t get me wrong, we love the baby,” she says baby like it’s a bad word. “We would have liked her to get married first, of course, but kids these days do things their own way. In my day, a man like you wouldn’t be all alone on a shuttle, Are you single?”
“Mother, stop!” Bailey snaps.
“Why? Look at him.” She gestures at me with a wave of her hand. Her husband’s groan is one of long suffering.
“Honey, please,” he pets her arm.
Carol is undeterred. She leans over him and points a finger at her daughter, “If I was your age and single, I wouldn’t need my mother to make a move for me.”
Bailey leans forward bypassing her mother’s glare and looks at me.
“I’m gay. Eric is, too. We had a baby together because we’re just friends. I’m sorry my mother accosted you. She’s going to leave you alone, now.”
“Don’t worry. I’m used to it. Congratulations on the baby.” I smile with empathy. Then, I pop my earbuds in. If it’s rude. Oh well, these people are giving me a damn headache.
Traffic slows to a crawl as we approach San Lucas and my eyes drift closed.
I’m roused by the squeaking of brakes and the jostling of the vehicle moving off the main road “I thought this was a direct shuttle.” I say to the driver.
He laughs boisterously. “Direct shuttle doesn’t exist, and we always stop for the ladies,” he says and waggles his