This hour was very entertaining, though, and if we were staying an extra night, I’d totally catch his show.
When I meet Jordan for a drink at the bar before dinner, we’re both dressed up as if we were heading out to the nicest restaurant in town instead of simply staying at the resort, which has proved to be very Southern California casual. While it’s been nice to walk around in my yoga pants or swimsuit cover-up, heels and lipstick seem to be in order for this momentous day. Over our glasses of prosecco, I give her the download from my soul reading.
“Wow! A lot of that is pretty spot on. I mean, I know a lot of these things are general and you impart your own meaning to them, but I think he nailed you,” she says nodding in agreement with the astrologer-psychic-magician’s assessment. She then puts her hands over her heart and bows her head, “I’m sorry I mocked your astrological soul reader.” She grins.
“Apology accepted.” I laugh. “Yeah, I think he nailed me too. But most importantly, I feel really hopeful about the future. Good things are around the corner for me.”
There’s ringing inside my clutch. My phone has been quiet this weekend so I’m surprised. I take it out and see that it’s my mom. She knows I’m at the spa this weekend, and so I fear that it’s something important.
“It’s my mom. I have to get this,” I say quickly to Jordan and then answer, “Hi, Mom. Is everything okay?”
“Allison!” She sounds breathless. “How are you doing?”
“I’m great. Jordan and I are just having a drink before dinner.” Worried by the tenor of her voice, I ask, “Is everything okay?”
“No! No, it’s not okay. Did you see?”
“Did I see what?” She’s starting to scare me and Jordan is looking at me concerned.
“Neil. He’s in a relationship with Stacey.”
Oh my god. She’s calling to tell me this. I’m irritated and don’t hide it from her. “Yes, Mom, I know. That’s why I’m here in California rather than at my wedding reception doing our first dance.” I roll my eyes at Jordan.
“Hang up,” Jordan mouths at me while arranging her fingers into a pretend handset she holds up to her ear and then hangs up.
I raise my eyebrows in exasperation and nod. “I have to go, Mom. I’m being rude to Jordan. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“No, Allison, you’re not listening. He changed his Facebook status to ‘in a relationship’ with her … that, that tramp,” she practically sputters.
I take a deep breath. This is one of many reasons why I’ve been avoiding any social media. And why in the world are Neil and my mother still Facebook friends?
“Well, that’s pretty shitty that he did it on our wedding day, but his poor taste just goes to show that I’m better off without him.” My heart is in my throat and Jordan is making all kinds of faces at me now.
“She’s pregnant.”
My stomach drops. “What?”
“He changed his status to in a relationship with her and he posted that they’re expecting a baby boy.”
My hand starts shaking and my whole body follows. Jordan takes the phone from my hand. “Mrs. James, it’s Jordan here. I don’t know what you just told Allison, but she’s as white as a sheet. What’s going on?”
Jordan is silent, but from the expression on her face I know my mother just told her everything. “I see,” she says. “Okay, well I think I need to take care of your daughter right now. We’ll call you later.”
I hear my mother still talking, but Jordan hits end call. She grabs my hand. “Are you okay?”
I slowly nod my head yes, but then change it to no. “She’s pregnant?” I whisper.
Jordan takes out her phone and I assume is checking Facebook. She shakes her head and sighs looking at her screen. “Unbelievable,” she whispers to herself, and then holds her phone up to me. “I’m sorry, Allie.”
On her screen are an ultrasound photo and the words “It’s a boy!” with Stacey’s name tagged.
Something primal in me breaks and I don’t even care if I’m about to make a scene, I just need to get outside. I run for the door and make it past the patio and then to the pool where I stumble in my heels and trip. I fall on a weird angle on my knees and, not even caring if I sprained something, begin to howl into the night.
“Why????? It was supposed to be our wedding day! Our baby! He didn’t want a baby! He told me to wait!”
Jordan is right behind me and falls on the ground with me. “Oh my god, Allison. What a fucking asshole. Asshole!” she shouts, shaking her fist at the sky as if it’s Neil’s face on the moon.
The maître d’ from the restaurant appears next to us and asks, “Ladies, can I assist you with anything?”
Jordan turns to him. “No, sorry, there’s nothing to assist. I got her.”
But then I turn to him, sobbing. “I was supposed to get married today, but he cheated on me with my maid of honor and called it off. And then today he announces to the world via Facebook that he’s in a relationship with her and that they’re having a baby.”
“Oh!” he says, clutching his hand to his chest. “Oh, my! That is terrible.” He bends down on one knee and puts out his hand for me. “Here, dear. May I help you up?”
I put my hand in his. Although I just want to lie here on the concrete forever, I feel bad that this kind-seeming man has to deal with a hysterical woman bothering his other guests. Once I’m standing, he pats my back gently and says, “There, there, you poor thing. A stunning girl like you shouldn’t be upset over some man who clearly has no sense in him.”
“Thank you,” I sniffle. I’m pretty sure I’m a fright now, with mascara running down my cheeks and my knees scraped up and bloody from falling.
“How about we get you a cuppa?” I’m detecting a British accent.
“Depends on what you spike it with,” Jordan says to him, still looking at me with concern in her eyes. She rubs my shoulder. “Let’s head back to your room, okay?”
“But dinner?” I say numbly, not wanting to starve my friend. “I don’t want to ruin your night too.”
“I’m on this trip for you, remember? If you want to get rip roaring drunk and burn Neil’s effigy in the desert, I’m down for that too. Whatever you need.”
I see the horror in the maître d’s eyes and reassure him, “No effigy burning tonight. That cup of tea in my room would be great.”
“What room are you in, love?” he asks.
“Room four ten,” I answer.
“I will send Alejandro with the tea.” As an aside to Jordan, he conspiratorially whispers, “If the tea doesn’t cheer her up, then the sight of Alejandro should do the trick.”
Jordan nods and then whisks me away.
WHEN WE ENTER my room, I sit on the edge of the bed and flop backwards.
“What can I get you?” Jordan says, as she’s already rummaging through the minibar. “While the sight of Alejandro,” she says with an accent imitating the maître d’, “might be a momentary distraction, I know you, and tea isn’t going to cut it.”