“Of course not, Mom.”
The guys continued down the path leading around the house.
“Belle, if you’d like to sit,” she prompted.
I sat. My knife and fork were soon in my hands, cutting up the sweet-smelling creation.
“Welcome, ladies, and thank you for joining me this morning. I’ve drawn you aside to discuss some of what you’ll be doing this summer. My aim is to prepare you for the next stage. No matter what the outcome following the end of our time here, all of you will walk away with new skills.
“Of course, you know there is more to being a wife than slipping on a ring. Just as there is more to being a mother than popping out a baby. New parents educate and prepare themselves for the arrival of their child,” she said. “In the same way, you’ll use this summer to prepare for marriage.”
Nora raised her hand. “You mean like the counseling sessions couples do at church?”
“Yes and no. That’s keeping with what we’re doing, but in this case, it’s about you the individual. Not the couple.”
“What will we be doing?”
“You’ll learn event planning, hosting, and etiquette among other things. We’ll also discuss some of the common stumbling blocks in a marriage and how to navigate them.”
“Question,” I piped up. “Will the boys be learning how to shake hands and throw parties, or is that just for us?”
“The boys have their own tasks to complete,” she said simply. “Many of you have watched your mothers, aunts, or grandmothers do it and this summer I’ll teach you to effortlessly fill their shoes. We start right away.”
“Start what?” I asked.
“The first task: event planning.” She waved her hand. “Every formal event we hold this summer will be planned by you all. I’ll put you in groups and you’ll decide on the theme, hire the staff, choose the entertainment, and deal with the fires that inevitably pop up. Any questions?”
No one had any.
“Great. Let’s finish our breakfast first and then we’ll get down to it.”
We wrapped up the meal, and as promised, Mrs. Desai sorted us into groups and ordered us to work.
Between my lapse with Nathan, Mal getting to me, and my being placed in a group with Ivy and Delilah, I knew for sure that someone up there didn’t like me.
“Let’s do something classic, but fun,” said Ivy. “A masquerade.”
The five of us snagged a table nearest the fountain. Mrs. Desai set us up with notepads, pens, markers, a tablet, and then let us loose.
“The masquerade theme is a little played out, don’t you think?” I asked. “What is it with us rich folk crushing on poofy dresses and Venetian masks? Besides, I’m not a big fan of being surrounded by people and not knowing who they are.”
“I agree with Belle,” Hazel said. “Remember the homecoming dance? Henry got the same mask as my boyfriend and stole a kiss before I noticed. Sorry, but I’m off masquerades for life.”
“Don’t just shoot down my ideas,” Ivy said. “Come up with some of your own.”
“That’s fair.” I slid the tablet to me and messed around in Google. “How about Great Gatsby?”
Kelli tipped her thumb down. “Overdone.”
“Mythical creatures.”
“This is a formal event, not a third-grader’s birthday party,” said Ivy.
“Moulin Rouge?”
The girls hummed, trading looks.
“That’s not bad,” said Kelli. “I’ll write it down as an option. What else?”
“We could play up the whole beach, sea, and sand surroundings and have an ‘under the sea’ theme.” I’m not saying I was into this task, but my mind was running through the wardrobe ideas faster than I could spit out suggestions.
“The other groups will have the same idea,” Delilah replied. “We could do enchanted forest or— Oooh. Let’s do happily ever after.”
“What’s that?” asked Hazel.
“Fairy-tale theme. We’ll choose one and model everything in that style. We can do sand and sea after Ariel or castles and fairy lights for Cinderella.”
I squinted at her, searching for an ulterior reason for that particular suggestion. “Didn’t we say no third-grade birthday parties?” I reminded. “I choose Moulin Rouge.”
“I like Moulin Rouge too,” Kelli threw in.
“Let’s vote,” said Delilah. “Raise your hand for Moulin Rouge.”
Kelli’s and my hand shot up and that settled it.
“Raise them for happily ever after.”
Three against two.
“WHAT’S THE BIG DEAL? A fairy-tale party sounds like fun.”
I heaved a sigh. “They’ve gotten to you too.”
“Who has?”
“Disney.”
Zion laughed. “Am I a victim of a conspiracy?”
“Majorly. At this stage, deprogramming is a lost cause.”
The two of us stretched out on the beach, soaking in an hour of free time. My party-planning group spent the entire morning breaking down tasks and assigning them. I was on top of music. Kelli had the decorations. Delilah was researching vendors. Ivy was staying on top of our budget. And Hazel was taking care of the menu and food.
We had to do everything on our own. The villa staff’s only job was to take the night off during our events.
After wrangling with Ivy and Delilah, a rest on the beach was exactly what the doctor ordered, and the others felt the same.
The boys started up another football game, running around tackling each other in their trunks. The girls either swam, gathered by the pool, or joined us in some sunbathing. Afterward, we’d all wash off our sandy butts and head to the next activity.
“What do you have against happily ever afters?”
I fixed out over the sea, skimming waves to the point they dropped over the horizon. “Nothing. It’s the fact that they don’t exist that gets to me.”
“They exist, but what those stories get wrong is that they’re handed to us. Happiness doesn’t fall into our lap. We have to fight for it, earn it, win it, sometimes even steal it.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I murmured. “But I will give fairy tales credit for one thing. Every story has a villain.”
“Okay,” he sang. Zion patted my shoulder getting to his feet. “Root beer is the cure for maudlin. I’ll run to the kitchen and get us some. Want anything else?”
“No, thanks.”
Zion took off. I sank onto my palms, closing my eyes to the sun.
I felt the sand shift. “You did this.”
“What?” My eyes snapped open, landing on a smooth, hard back and the long cylindrical bruise marring the perfect skin.
“You did this,” Nathan repeated. “How are you going to make it up to me?”
“What are you—? I didn’t do that.”
“Yes, you did.” He flipped over, suddenly so close that our noses kissed. “When I gifted you such a mind-blowing orgasm that you fell on top of me, and slammed me against the table leg.” Wincing, Nathan worked his shoulder. “Ah. My whole back is sore. You should massage it. Maybe throw in a blow job for my trouble.”