Page 55

I Do Now

Another Six Months Later

Pam scanned faces as guests drifted down the aisle, taking their seats in front of the floral arbor overlooking the Pacific. But still no Nancy. She pursed her lips, then remembered how that deepened the lines around her mouth and smoothed her expression—another skirmish in the battle against aging. There was only so much Pam could do about both her wrinkles and Nancy. If Nancy couldn’t be where she was supposed to be, too bad.

Marlene’s warning rang in her ears. Early on, she pulled Pam aside and whispered, “I’ll be the perfect silent partner, but we know what Nancy’s like.

She’ll research everything and get you the best prices . . . but she’ll never be on time. And wedding planners need to be on time.”

Pam checked her watch, and as if on cue, the band transitioned from cheerful welcome music to sentimental ceremony.

Footsteps prompted Pam to turn and see Hector coming down the path.

Behind him, Elmer hugged the wall, keeping his paws to the cool strip of shade.

He eyed the baskets of flowers lining the aisle, and Pam would bet her share of the business that as soon as people left, he’d pee on each of them—just to be sure the other dogs knew they were in Elmer-Town.

“They made it.”

Hector nodded toward the pool.

Pam shifted her attention across the lawn to where Brenda supervised two men carrying a three-tiered wedding cake along the patio. Se?ora Chavez, her sturdy body wrapped in an apron, stood by the dining room door, waving them her way with a towel, like a matador attracting a bull. She noticed Pam and blew her a kiss, and Pam blew one back.

Hector squinted into the setting sun. “Did you know Bob’s not coming?”

“What?!”

Pam spun to face him.

Hector nodded. “Yep. Dylan picked Shalisa up at the airport. She told him they split up.”

Pam gasped. That must have been the news Shalisa wanted to tell her. “Does Andre know?”

Hector nodded again. “Dylan texted Claire so she’d give him the heads-up.”

“That’s good. He doesn’t like surprises,”

Pam said. It was even better that she wasn’t the one who told him. It was awkward being in the middle. Pam tried not to talk about Shalisa around Andre anymore. They weren’t officially divorced—that’s tricky once a death certificate has been issued—but they told everyone they were.

Hector continued, “She said she’s staying longer.”

Pam’s heart sank. While she treasured every minute she spent with Shalisa, an extended stay, with Bob now out of the picture, would get Andre’s hopes up. Well, she couldn’t worry about them. “You haven’t seen Nancy, have you? I looked all over for her. I even went by Marlene’s casita, but her shutters were closed.”

Hector chuckled. “Manuel arrived an hour ago.”

“Ah. That explains that.”

Whenever Marlene visited, Manuel would drive over from San Salvador. She’d giggle like a teenager around him, but it was good to see her smile. Pam swallowed the lump in her throat that settled in whenever she thought of her old friend. Dave had been gone just over a year, and it hurt to think how he’d started everything but never got to see how it ended.

When Hank had come out from behind the resort’s bar that first day, Pam’s heart had somersaulted. As soon as his arms were around her, she knew she was home. A few days later, over a pitcher of margaritas and a bucket of beer, Nancy had filled everyone in on how the scene had played out from her perspective—how she and Shalisa had been puttering around in the pool, and without her glasses, she could see Pam was embracing a man, but she couldn’t make out who it was. She’d sidestroked to Shalisa, who was floating on an inflatable rubber ducky, a wide-brimmed straw hat shading her face, her phone lying on her chest, and a fruity cocktail lazily held in her hand. Nancy had nudged the raft. “Shalisa. Who’s the guy Pam’s hugging?”

“Huh?”

Shalisa had languidly lifted the hat’s brim, then jerked upright so fast she’d tumbled on top of Nancy.

They’d thrashed in the water, paraphernalia flying, until they grabbed the duck, gasping for air.

Shalisa spat out water and finally croaked, “Hank! Pam is hugging Hank!”

Shocked, Nancy had leaped on Shalisa’s shoulders like a synchronized swimmer doing a stack lift.

She sank them both and underwater they fought each other off, scrambling for the side.

Nancy clambered out of the pool, dripping, and bellowed, “Larry! Larry Clooney! I know you’re here! It’s me.

Larry! Where are youuuu!”

Poor Larry had rushed from the office, with no idea what the hell was going on.

As soon as he was close enough that Nancy could recognize him, she sprinted across the patio, sopping wet, and catapulted herself into his arms.

Pam had witnessed that herself, and doubted she’d ever be able to purge the image of Nancy’s fleshy white thighs wrapped around Larry’s waist, and him, knees bent, hands gripping Nancy’s bum, struggling to keep his balance.

Some things you can’t unsee.

No one heard from Nancy and Larry for the next two days. When they finally emerged from Larry’s casita, Nancy announced she was moving to El Salvador and urged Pam to join her, saying, “Remember how gutted we were when we thought they’d died in that explosion? This is our second chance, Pam. We’ve got to take it. We have to.”

Pam quickly fell in line with the idea, and as things settled down the friends spent hours together, around a table for eight, just like old times. An empty chair sat in unspoken commemoration of their missing pal. They went over all they’d done and why. As the clock ticked, secrets dropped, and laughter returned. When the conversation inevitably turned to debating whether Dave had died in a freakish accident or if Padma really had him killed, Pam, tired of hearing about it, would change the topic.

Ultimately Shalisa’s second chance took her in a different direction. She and Andre had quietly reunited by the pool that day—nothing like the spectacle Nancy and Larry had put on—and while they had considered reconciling, Shalisa was already seeing Bob. She took some time and eventually asked Andre for a fresh start, without him. Although the bottom dropped out of his world, he’d said, “Anything for my queen,”

wanting her to have the fucking fantastic life she deserved.

None of their retirement plans had panned out quite as they’d envisioned, but they’d worked out. Although Pam still puzzled over how the husbands ended up being employed by their barber. But then she reasoned, with the kind of money they were paying Hector, he had an impressively lucrative side hustle. And she came to accept she’d never know everything.

Pam glanced at Hector. “You staying for the ceremony?”

He shook his head. “I’m gonna give Brenda a hand. I know how you and Nancy get when things don’t go right.”

He winked. “And I wouldn’t want you to make me regret anything.” He flashed a smile and headed across the lawn.

Pam chuckled and watched him exchange a fist bump as he crossed paths with Hank, who, finished at the bar, had changed into a freshly ironed guayabera shirt.

Waiting for him to join her, Pam studied her husband.

Had he changed, had she, had they both? Or had they just not known each other as well as they thought they did?

She used to think it took all of Hank’s mental fortitude to finish a game of Wordle, yet somehow, it was Hank who’d come up with their Plan B.

He was the one who realized Dylan’s scuba diving and tourism experience made him a perfect fit to run the resort’s watersports.

And that Claire could pitch in anywhere, when she wasn’t busy with the baby.

Even the destination wedding business was his idea.

Shalisa had opted out, wanting to build her new life Stateside, away from Andre.

And it was no surprise that Marlene didn’t want to leave her condo or move too far from her daughters.

But she forgave their $50,000 loan in exchange for part ownership.

The rest of their startup funding had arrived the morning after they’d shared their plan with Hector and Brenda.

The retired barber had dropped by at breakfast and nudged a box of donuts and an envelope holding their disputed $50,000 down payment across the table, saying he and Brenda would buy in too.

Their investments were paying off; Pam and Nancy were doing so well they’d just paid Hector and Marlene their first dividend and were now drawing good salaries themselves.

Ha! Maybe they’d be rich bitches after all.

But who cared about money when you had family? Henry was a familiar sight at the resort, strapped to his grandfather’s chest as Hank mixed cocktails, continually corralling the chubby six-month-old’s curious fingers.

They’d all played fast and loose with the facts when they’d filled their relatives in on their escapades—outlining a scenario where the men had been framed by the casino and had to run for their lives.

And while they were now safe, they still needed discretion.

They’d skipped any mention of hiring a hitman.

Some things were best left unsaid.

As Hank met her in the shade of the palm tree Pam’s cheek brushed his shoulder, warm through the crisp cotton.

She inhaled, taking in his scent of lemon, saltwater, and sweat because it was always so fucking hot.

She closed her eyes, flashing back to the moment outside Goodwill when she’d buried her face in his shirt, believing he was gone to her forever. How lucky she was. She squeezed Hank’s hand and pulled him forward to fall in with the other guests and take a seat.

The magistrado stood in front of the arbor. Pam felt a rustle at her elbow and turned to be wrapped in Shalisa’s arms. She squealed, “You made it!”

And then, “Oh my God, are you okay? Your skin’s on fire.”

Shalisa waved her off. “I’m not used to the climate.”

Over Shalisa’s shoulder, Pam was surprised to see Andre drop into the next chair.

She raised her eyebrow to him, and he winked, then took a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow.

Pam straightened, a touch perplexed, as everyone rose to face the foot of the aisle.

In the distance, Marlene and Manuel held hands and laughed as they scurried across the lawn.

They skirted the chairs and came along the side, scooting into the seats behind Pam.

The music swelled, and from around the corner Estuardo appeared, walking along the flower-lined path, with his mother and father on either side.

Pam blinked away tears as the trio made their way toward the arbor.

A moment later Paul, with Nancy—at least she had arrived here on time—and Larry, rounded the same corner.

Nancy looked pale beneath her tan.

Where had she been all afternoon? Could a problem have arisen? Larry’s jaw muscles clenched and unclenched as he passed their row.

The magistrado motioned for the guests to be seated.

Estuardo kissed his mother then shook his father’s hand, and his parents took their seats.

Paul kissed Nancy’s cheek then reached for Larry.

Pam held her breath.

Hank leaned into her shoulder, his muscles tensed, as though he was willing his friend to do the right thing. Paul’s hand, suspended in air, looked as if it was photoshopped against a canvas of Pacific blue, waiting to be encased in his father’s grip.

And finally, it was.

Larry grasped Paul’s hand with both of his, then pulled his son in for a bear hug. When he stepped back, the sun reflected off his tear-strewn cheeks. Paul wiped his own eyes as he joined Estuardo.

The magistrado gave the expected warnings about sickness and health, good times and bad. Pam squirmed when he talked about richer or poorer, but then decided that in the end she’d come out on the right side of that equation.

He said, “Today, you stand with the partner you have chosen to walk beside you in life. For whatever reason you made this choice, tuck it away in your heart so you can pull it out when you need it. Because, as every married person here can tell you—you will need it.”

Ain’t that the truth.

* * *

The sun disappeared into the Pacific, and the patio lights twinkled. The band played, couples danced, waitstaff replenished cocktails, and candles flickered on the tables around the pool. The four girlfriends sat, as they had so many times over the years, under the night sky. Pam emptied their third bottle of champagne into Nancy’s flute and asked, “Where were you this afternoon? I looked all over for you.”

Nancy cast her gaze to the table. “In the cabana.”

“The cabana? What were you doing in the cabana?”

Even in the darkness Pam saw the red flush creep up Nancy’s neck. Pam set the bottle down with a thud. “You and Larry were fooling around. Right before you walked your son down the aisle. Ew. That’s so gross! Someone could have seen you!”

Nancy kept her lips tightly closed and toyed with the stem of her flute.

Marlene smiled at Nancy. “There’s nothing wrong with the parents of the groom getting a little frisky. I think it’s sexy.”

Pam recoiled. “If you’re David and Victoria Beckham, maybe! But not when you look like King Charles and Camilla.”

She stifled a gag. “No one wants to see them doing it.”

Nancy sat up, indignant. “Come on. We may not be Posh and Becks, but we’ve gotta look better than Charles and Camilla.”

Pam did a double take. “Who do you think you look like during sex?”

Nancy thought a moment and then brightened. “Kurt and Goldie.”

Pam reeled in disbelief. “You’re not even blond.”

Marlene murmured, “Good choice. Goldie’s pretty limber. She used to be a dancer. Or Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson. I bet they still look good doing it. Maybe Denzel and Pauletta. I’d say Kevin Costner, but he’s dating younger these days, so that’s not fair. Oh! I know! Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker. I bet they have great rhythm. They’re both very fit.”

She sat back in her chair and smiled. “That’s who I want to look like.”

Sometimes Marlene amazed Pam. She shook her head and said, “But still, it’s downright off-putting for the parents of the groom to be doing the deed, right before the wedding.”

Shalisa had remained surprisingly quiet. Pam turned to her for support. “Am I right?”

Now it was Shalisa’s turn to keep her lips tightly closed and toy with a flute’s stem.

Pam leaned across the table and hissed, “You had sex with Andre. Shalisa!”

She fell back in the chair. “That’s why you were all hot and bothered at the ceremony.” She surged forward again. “You couldn’t have been here ten minutes before you were in his pants. You’ve kept that man at arm’s length for a year. You better not be leading him on. He’s just starting to be himself.” It wasn’t Pam’s business, and she hadn’t defended Andre before. But if this were a fling he’d be shattered and she’d have to help pick up those pieces.

Shalisa looked around and said in a low voice, “Sometimes you have to let something go before you know you want it.”

Nancy and Marlene both jolted upright. Then Nancy said, “Whoa. Shalisa. You need to be sure you want this for you. Remember. You deserve your life to be fucking fantastic.”

Shalisa smiled and said, “I know I do. And it is. Or it will be. Andre and I belong together. I know that now.”

Pam rubbed her temples. This was a turn of events she hadn’t seen coming. She looked around the table.

Marlene straightened in her chair and said, “You’ll never guess what I’ve learned from all this.”

Pam could only imagine the multitude of lessons any of them had learned from all this. Like how much room fifty grand takes up in your purse, or the going rate for a hitman, or how about when you do or don’t need bodies to collect insurance money. She blew out a breath.

Finally, Shalisa replied with a smile, “What have you learned from all this, Marlene?”

Marlene glowed as she answered, “I’ve learned to seize the day. Manuel calls it carpe diem. He speaks Spanish, you know. But that’s what we’ve gotta do, gals. Love hard today, ’cuz who knows what will happen tomorrow.”

She lifted her flute to the center of the table, and the others joined.

Then Marlene added, “I’ve also learned we should toss these back like shots.”

* * *

After the toasts to the new husbands, Pam and Hank sat side by side by the pool, and Pam watched with envy as Manuel whirled Marlene around the dance floor.

Her blond hair flew as she fell in and out of his arms.

Next to them, Larry and Nancy swayed with his hands on her bum as though they were in eighth grade.

Pam smiled.

Beyond the twinkle lights, she caught a glimpse of Shalisa and Andre slipping away.

Andre carried Shalisa’s high heels in one hand, with his other entwined in hers.

Maybe they’d make it after all.

Pam hoped so.

Farther around the patio, at another table, sat their saviors. Who knew a barber could have so much influence in someone’s life? And Pam didn’t mean for the good grooming.

Brenda perched on Hector’s lap, probably telling everyone a private investigator story, with Elmer sprawled on the flagstones beside them.

Across the pool Hector caught Pam’s eye, and he raised his glass to her.

She raised hers back.

Pam watched him tuck a strand of hair behind Brenda’s ear, then scratch Elmer’s belly.

Brenda kissed Hector’s forehead and delivered her punchline.

Everyone laughed, and Hector beamed.

The first notes of a Michael Bublé love song played, and Brenda stood, pulling Hector to his feet.

On the dance floor he folded around her, and she looked like she was in heaven.

Pam remembered that long-ago feeling of dancing with the one you love.

She took a sip of her margarita, licked the salt from her lips, and smiled at Hank.

She searched for a glimpse of the man she’d married so long ago, and when he smiled back, she found it.

Not every couple has to dance.

Hank nodded toward the others. “Do you want to?”

Who was he kidding? “You don’t dance.”

“I do now.”

Pam raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Hank stood and held out his hand; his smile stretched across his face. “I’ve been taking lessons.”

Pam was stunned for a moment, then she tossed her head back and laughed. She jumped to her feet, threw her arms around her husband’s neck, and kissed him. Yep. Her life was fucking fantastic.

Again.