Notes from a spinning pl.., p.7

  Notes from a Spinning Planet—Mexico, p.7

Notes from a Spinning Planet—Mexico
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  “It's a cool place,” I admit.

  Shelby actually smacks her palm to her forehead. “Hey, I know what you and your aunt can do! Duh! Why didn't I think of this earlier? You guys can move in with me!”

  “Oh, I don't know if—”

  “It makes perfect sense! I mean, I've got this big two-bedroom suite all to myself. Of course you guys have to come share it with me. It's so obvious.”

  “That's a great idea,” says Ryan.

  “Well, it would beat sleeping on the beach,” I admit. “I mean, I'm sure it's really nice,” I say quickly not wanting to sound ungrateful. “Probably way nicer than where we're staying.”

  Shelby nods. “Yep. And it seems the perfect solution. You guys can move in whenever you like. I'll pick up a couple of extra keys for you.”

  “That's so generous of you,” I say. “I hope your parents won't mind.”

  “Hey, my parents will probably be relieved to hear I've got roommates now, especially when I tell them how old your aunt is.” She laughs.

  “Kinda like a chaperone,” I suggest.

  “Yeah. My folks were a little worried about leaving me here by myself, but I convinced them it was no problema. I mean, look at this place.” She waves her hands. “It's like totally safe. They have good security, and we're far enough from town to stay out of trouble. Still, you know how parents can be.”

  We discuss the details a bit more, and Shelby thinks Sid and I should move over here immediately. I'm beginning to think maybe she's right. The more we talk about it, the better it sounds. I suppose I like the idea of being close to where both Shelby and Ryan are staying. Not that I think anything would happen between them, exactly. But I guess I just want to be around. Don't ask me why.

  Our drinks and nachos come, and Shelby signs the tab, then holds up her pina colada in a toast. “Here's to new roomies,” she says, clicking her plastic cup against mine. “And to a great next few days,” she says, clicking her cup against Ryan's bottle.

  I take a cautious sip of this icy white concoction and am surprised to discover it's really pretty tasty.

  “Hey, this is good,” I tell her.

  “I told you so.”

  I'm glad to see my sarong is completely dry now, and I tie it around myself as I go over to sit by the little table and snack on the nachos. The three of us sit there just drinking and snacking and visiting like old friends, and ?? wondering why I was feeling so upset earlier.

  “Isn't this great?” says Shelby, happily leaning back into her chaise as she finishes her drink. “I just love it down here.”

  “It's pretty amazing,” says Ryan, “especially when you hear they're having freezing rain in Seattle right now.”

  “Really?” I say

  “Yeah, I got an e-mail from my roommate today. It's nasty.”

  “See how lucky we are?” says Shelby.

  “Speaking of lucky,” I say as I stand up and adjust my sarong, “I think I'll go find Sid and tell her the good news about your sharing your suite with us.” I glance over at Shelby. “You're sure you really want to do this?”

  “Of course.” She looks at Ryan. “I mean, I'm not getting myself into something I'll regret, am I, Ryan? These two aren't ax murderers or porn queens or anything skanky, are they?”

  He laughs. “No, I can vouch for them. They are good people.”

  Shelby smiles at me. “And since I totally trust Ryan, I know I can trust you too.”

  The question is, can I trust her? But I tell myself not to be silly and paranoid, and I thank her again, saying I'll be right back. Then I head up the beach and up the stairs to find Sid as well as the bathrooms. By the time I'm on the resort level, I decide to stop by the bathrooms first. After I use the facility, which, like everything else, is way nicer than the pool bathrooms at our hotel, I am slightly shocked to see my bedraggled reflection in the mirror.

  My hair has gone totally wild on the sides, and it's smashed down flat in the back, from my little nap, I suppose. My face is red and blotchy from, I'm sure, too much sun, and I have dark mascara circles around my eyes from being tossed about in the waves. I pretty much look like something that slithered out of the ocean. I even find a bit of seaweed in my hair. Ugh.

  I do my best to remedy my beauty blunders, but I also realize how pointless this is since I obviously looked like a sea hag the whole time I was hanging with Ryan and the picture-perfect Shelby. What a contrast we two girls must be! No wonder she's being so nice to me. I must make her look really good. Not that she needs any help in that area!

  I try not to think such shallow thoughts as I set off to find Sid. But as I walk past all the pools, where sleek, tan bathing beauties seem to be everywhere, it's hard not to feel substandard. Finally, after not seeing a sign of Sid or Ian, I'm about to give up when I hear my aunt calling my name. I find the two of them sitting on tall stools at a high table in a shady, covered area that looks out over the beach. They're still in their swimsuits and appear to be lingering over some iced drinks with a colorful miniature paper umbrella sitting off to the side. Some cheerful reggae music is playing, and my aunt has never looked happier.

  “Want to join us?” she asks me.

  “That's okay,” I tell her. “I've already had a drink. A pina colada,” I add, almost as a confession.

  I see her brows lift from beneath her sunglasses. “Interesting.”

  I nod. “Yeah, it was Shelbys recommendation. She and Ryan are still down there on the beach, but I came up here to tell you the good news.”

  “Good news?” I can tell by Sid's voice that she's not sure what to expect. “What's up?”

  “We have a place to stay!”

  “Seriously?” Sid glances at Ian now.

  “Yes. Shelby has invited us to be her roommates here.”

  There's a short pause, and I can tell Sid's uncertain about this. “Oh, I don't know, Maddie.”

  “We have it all worked out. Her parents had to go home early.”

  Sid's frowning now, like she doesn't think this is such a great idea.

  “No, listen, Sid,” I say “Shelby has this big two-bedroom suite all to herself now, and she really wants us to join her.”

  “It'sounds perfect,” says Ian. He takes Sid's hand. “You'll be close by, and we can spend all our spare time together. It's wonderful.”

  Sid still doesn't look completely convinced. “You're sure you're okay with this?” she asks me. I know she's thinking about Shelby and my earlier jealousy attack.

  “I think it's a great solution,” I say, hoping my enthusiasm will convince her I'm perfectly fine with Shelby. “And now Shelby won't be here all by herself. She said her parents will probably be relieved. Plus this place is so much nicer than where we've been staying. It's a real step up.”

  She nods. “That's for sure.”

  “Shelby seems like a nice girl,” adds Ian.

  “Oh, she is,” I assure him. Okay, how can I be so sure? But then, she is Ryans friend. And if he can vouch for us, surely he can vouch for her as well. Besides, I do want to be around. I guess I'm thinking if Shelby and Ryan really do become an item, I'd rather know about it.

  “Well, it seems to be all settled then.” Sid smiles and pats me on the shoulder, which actually stings a little due to the sunburn. “Good work.”

  “Oh yeah. Shelby said we can move in today if we want.”

  “Today?”

  “Why not?” says Ian. “That other place sounds like a nightmare anyway.”

  Sid shrugs. “Okay then. Why not?”

  “Great. I'll let her know.”

  “You sure you don't want to join us?” offers Ian.

  “No,” I tell them. “I'm going back down to the beach. I told Ryan and Shelby I'd come back.”

  “Well, watch out for the sun,” warns Sid. “You're looking a little red, Maddie.”

  “So I've noticed.” I promise her I'll stay in the shade, then I trek back down to the beach. If nothing else, I seem to be getting a little exercise going up and down these stairs. I spot the two of them from a distance. It looks like they're talking, and I suddenly feel a bit like an intruder. I almost turn back. But then I remember my towel is still there. Okay, maybe that's a pathetic excuse, but I keep going just the same. I can always just pick it up and tell them I'm going to the pool for a dip. That would probably sound believable.

  “Hey, there you are,” says Shelby in a friendly voice. “Was your aunt happy to find out she won't be sleeping on the beach after all?”

  “Yes, she was very grateful.”

  “And so you guys'U move in today then?” asks Shelby hopefully.

  “I guess so.” Now I'm trying to gauge the situation here. Should I just get my towel and scram? Am I interrupting their happy little reunion? Or are we just three friends hanging out on the beach together?

  “Oh, good,” says Shelby, waving. “Here he comes—my cabana boy.”

  “Shelby ordered you another pina colada,” Ryan informs me.

  “Yeah. I hope that was okay.” She smiles at me. “My treat!”

  Evidently I haven't been excused just yet. So I sit down and join them. We drink our drinks and chat, and I notice I'm feeling pretty relaxed with these guys. Maybe a little too relaxed. It occurs to me that I've had two drinks with alcohol, which I'm not used to, and I better not have any more unless I want to look like those stupid spring-break kids who show up on the news and end up feeling like idiots later.

  “I'm going in,” says Ryan as he stands up and heads for the water. “Anyone else coming?”

  “Not me,” calls Shelby.

  “I'll come,” I yell as I stand and untie my sarong.

  “You guys are nuts,” laughs Shelby. “That water's freezing.”

  “Hey, the cold will feel good on my sunburn,” I say as I toss my sarong down, then run toward the water and plow right through the waves, which are shockingly cold. At least at first. But I think its worth it as I find myself being tossed around in the surf with Ryan. Totally worth it!

  he sun is getting low in the sky when we finally relinquish our beach spot and set off to find Sid and Ian. With Shelby and me flanking Ryan, we slowly make our way up the beach. I'm thinking this guy must be feeling pretty pleased with himself about now.

  “How do you rate?” I tease him as we come to the beach steps. “A chick on each side.”

  “And hot chicks too,” he shoots back at me with a flashy grin.

  Okay, at least one of us is hot. But it's nice of him to include me. Still, I'm feeling a little unsure about this awkward little threesome. Ryan is being very congenial to both of us, but I'm worried that he might like to have some alone time with Shelby. Well, worried and jealous. That's probably more honest.

  “I made us a reservation tonight,” announces Ian when we find Sid and him sitting under an umbrella by the pool. “It's supposed to be very authentic Mexican. A restaurant friend of mine in Ireland recommended it.” He smiles at Shelby. “Would you like to join us?”

  Suddenly I'm thinking maybe Shelby will feel like the fifth wheel now. I mean, Ian and Ryan came down here to see Sid and me. Well, at least that's what I thought earlier. Now I'm not so sure. But Shelby wouldn't know that. Maybe she'll have the courtesy to decline.

  “Oh, I'd hate to intrude,” says Shelby, glancing over at Ryan.

  He shrugs. “You're not an intrusion.”

  “Not at all,” says Sid. “It's the least we can do to thank you for sharing your accommodations with us.”

  Shelby smiles at her. “Hey, it was already starting to feel lonely.”

  “Great,” says Ian. “How about if we meet back here at six thirty and then ride the shuttle bus into town? Our reservation is for seven, and I've heard that parking can be a nightmare in this particular neighborhood.”

  “Sounds good,” says Sid, glancing at her watch. “We'd better get going, Maddie.”

  “And you're checking out of your place tonight,” asks Shelby, “and moving in with me?”

  “I guess we might as well,” says Sid. “We'll have to hurry then.”

  So we rush back to our hotel and hastily pack our things, take tepid showers and dress, then go to the oficina to check out.

  “You are leaving tonight?” says Francesca with disappointed eyes. “But you still have one more night.”

  Sid explains our opportunity, and Francesca nods. “Good for you. The Casa del Sol is the nicest resort in San Lucas. You will be comfortable there.”

  “At least we won't be sleeping on the beach,” says Sid as she signs the bill.

  “Or staying at your house,” I toss out.

  She sighs. “That is good.”

  “I hope things get better for you here,” I tell her, “or you find another job.”

  She nods wearily. “Thank you. I appreciate your kindness.”

  We wave good-bye, but I actually feel guilty leaving her. Not that things would've been any better for her if we'd stayed. But she seems so sad and sort of lost.

  “Poor Francesca,” I say as Sid drives us back to Casa del Sol.

  “Actually, her future is probably fairly bright compared to most Mexican girls around here.”

  “Whys that?”

  “Well, her English is excellent for starters, and this area is so dependent on tourism. She seems well educated, and despite the lousy job, she's getting good job experience. I'd think she could get hired anywhere.”

  “But she also seems stuck,” I point out. “What if she just keeps working there forever?”

  “Hopefully that wont be the case.”

  “Well, Francesca is going on my prayer list,” I say. I'd already told Sid how I have this “international” prayer list in the back of my journal. I've written down the names of people I met on our two other trips, and I try to remember to pray for them on a somewhat regular basis. It makes me feel like I'm sort of in touch with the globe—at least in a small way. Francesca is definitely going on this list. I just wish I'd thought to ask her last name. Oh well. I'm sure God will know who I'm talking about.

  Since it's almost six thirty when we get back to Casa del Sol, we just leave our bags in the rental car and hurry over to join Ian, Ryan, and Shelby, who are already waiting at the shuttle station. Shelby looks spectacular in an aqua blue halter dress that fits her like a glove and I'm sure probably brings out the color of her eyes. I wish I'd had a little more time to fix up. As it was, I barely got the sea scum washed off, and all I could do with my hair was pull it back or risk looking like a wild woman. We get onto the shuttle, which is a few minutes late, and Ryan sits down in the single seat across from the driver. For some reason, this is a relief to me. I think I was worried he'd sit with Shelby, and I'd end up sitting by myself and feeling blue and wishing I wasn't here. Sid and Ian sit together, and Shelby and I take the seat directly behind Ryan.

  Shelby chatters away at me, not about anything important or particularly interesting, but I have to admire her ability to keep a conversation going. She reminds me of my friend Katie. Meanwhile Ryan practices his Spanish, which isn't as good as mine, on the driver, who seems to be humoring him. But I give Ryan credit for trying. After a jerky ride with lots of stops and starts, we finally get off in what seems to be the center of town, and then Ian does his best to lead us to the restaurant, although it seems we're going in circles a bit. But finally we're there, and it does look charming.

  Since my Spanish seems the most highly evolved in the group, I soon find myself translating for everyone. But when the owner discovers Ian is a friend of his friend and a fellow restaurateur, we are given the royal treatment. First we are seated at a very good table that's next to the big, round firepit, which is probably unnecessary but cozy just the same. A trio of a guitarist, violinist, and percussionist provides the small restaurant with festive Mexican music, and then our “salsa specialist” arrives to make fresh salsa right at our table. He tells us that we get to pick the ingredients, which Ian and I take charge of. Ian does the selecting, and I do the translating. We watch in fascination as our specialist first places big, red, grilled tomatoes into a mortar made of black volcanic stone, then carefully adds onions, garlic, cilantro, chili, and a few other things. He expertly uses a pestle to pound and grind this mixture into a rich red salsa that tastes amazing—sort of like a combination of sunshine and vegetables and spices. And its even warm. The tortilla chips don't taste like any chips I've had at home. Somehow they're heavier in texture but lighter in taste. Its hard to explain, but they taste fresh, and with the salsa, they're outstanding.

  And so it goes for the rest of our meal. It's all traditional Mexican food and prepared perfectly. Ian seems to be adequately impressed. And when he asks for my help translating the bill, I'm impressed with the price. It's not as much as last night's dinner with Sid, and yet this meal was much better and for almost three times as many people. Plus I didn't have any concerns about being slipped a Mickey, especially after I saw how generous Ian was with the tip. I figure this must be a restaurant-owner thing to do, or else he hasn't completely figured out their money yet. Anyway, I'm glad he is so generous.

  “Okay,” says Shelby as we're leaving. “Now you guys have to let me treat you to Cabo Wabo.”

  “Cabo Wabo?” says Ryan. “What's that?”

  “Just the best rock music in all of Cabo,” she says. “And it's only a few blocks over. You guys game?”

  We seem to be game, so we let Shelby lead the way this time, and in a few minutes we find ourselves crammed around a small, high, sticky table in a very crowded bar with several levels. But the music is so loud I literally cannot hear myself think. Or maybe my brains just numb from the good food and a long day in the sun. But since everyone else seems happy to be here, I try to play along. Even so, I'm getting a headache, and the pounding bass only accentuates the throbbing.

  Naturally, everyone orders a “real” drink, and Shelby jokingly gives me a bad time for wanting a Sprite. But it's what I really want, and I don't see why I can't have it. I'm not sure if the band is really good or not, but the others appear to like them, and I'm starting to feel like a regular old fuddy-duddy Not cool when you're only twenty. I try not to keep looking at my watch. I figure, okay, I've got to do my time now. But if I'm invited to go clubbing again, I'll definitely decline. So what if I'm not a party girl? There's a lot more to life than listening to loud music and drinking.

 
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