Margaritas and Meltdowns

The sun sparkled on the turquoise water of the resort pool, light and shadow patterns dancing across the bottom of the shallow end. Mary Elizabeth poured herself another margarita from Mandy’s Rubbermaid pitcher resting inside her enormous beach bag and tried to call Josh again. She was dying to tell him that Mike and Mandy rented. It went to voicemail after a few rings. His phone was probably on the cart, so she’d try again in a few minutes.

Easing her way back in the pool, careful not to spill any of her cocktail, she made her way back over to Mandy, dying from unsatisfied curiosity.

“These margaritas have some heat, but I love the fresh green taste of them, reminds me of that middle eastern sauce that comes with shawarma. What did you put in them, jalapeño and cilantro?”

Mandy smiled and told her about the jalapeño tequila she picked up on her way out to the island. “The Tanteo rep was at the packy, giving out samples, and I just fell in love with it.”

They laughed for a moment about South Carolina liquor laws, recalling the days of driving into Aiken city limits to buy Sunday beer.

“Okay, Mandy, I know it’s none of my business, but who owns your beach house? Not that I’ll ever think of it as anyone else’s—as far as I’m concerned, that house is yours and Michael’s, regardless of whose name is on the deed.”

Mandy took a slow sip of her drink, assessing Mary Elizabeth from behind her sunglasses. The fallout would be worse if she learned that it was Masie’s house in front of everyone at the party, where everyone was sure to be gossiping to beat the band.

“Masie Adams owns the house.” Mandy kept her eyes on Mary Elizabeth’s face, impressed by how quickly she composed it.

“Masie Adams has a house here? I thought she had to sell everything to pay off Billy’s gambling debt. I’ll be right back. I need to call Josh.”

“I think the locker room is empty if you want privacy.” Mandy bent her knees over the edge of the pool and floated with her honey blonde hair fanning out around her face in the water.

The locker room was deliciously cool, and Mary Elizabeth paced while she waited for Josh to pick up. He had no clue and wanted her to guess who he ran into on the course. Unable to contain herself anymore, she offered one guess in a caustic tone. “Masie Adams?”

Then she learned that Masie was not just on the island but on the course, and she shrieked like a tea kettle in danger of boiling over.

Before she finished her diatribe, she heard her father’s voice from the other end.

“Mary Elizabeth, calm down.”

She took a deep breath and burst into tears.

“That doesn’t sound calm. Everything is fine, although Masie is here on the course instead of Sam. But I’m here, too, so don’t you worry about a thing. Pull yourself together.”

After she hung up with her father, Mary Elizabeth returned to the pool, where she drank a third margarita. When the alarm on her phone sounded, she walked back to the condo, even though she was probably fine to drive. No point taking unnecessary risks.

After a quick shower, she lay down for a nap, waking an hour later with the beginning of a hangover. She made herself a light Bloody Mary to stave it off, then put on some music and wondered what was keeping Josh.