Page 26 of Love's a Script
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” Mary said.
“Maybe. But our advice? Start stashing,” Jillian said as she and her husband pulled from the inner pockets of their winter jackets, Ziplock bags filled with scrambled eggs whose heat was clouding the plastics.
“Oh, wow,” Mary said, forcing her expression neutral. “That’s…resourceful.”
“The goal is to put off cannibalism for as long as possible,” Allen said.
“Cannibalism? That’s a day-forty resort,” Ruben said, looking similarly put off by the couple’s bags of mush. “We’ll be off this mountain long before we’d have to even think about eating each other.”
Allen shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”
A woman in a toque who’d been making the rounds to the tables in the dining room appeared at theirs. Her wide stance and the clipboard she carried gave her an air of authority. She introduced herself to them as Elizabeth and explained she’d been authorized by hotel management to coordinate entertainment for the guests during this snowed-in period.
“We’re stuck here for a couple of days, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun,” Elizabeth said with unfaltering enthusiasm. “There’s a table in the lobby with different sign-up sheets for activities and classes being offered by fellow guests. I’m personally looking forward to the Zumba class tomorrow morning. If you have an activity you would like to spearhead, let me know and?—”
A commotion at the buffet station drew everyone’s attention. A tall man held a slice of pumpernickel in the air out of reach of a much shorter man.
“I got to it first,” shouted the shorter of the two.
“Then why am I holding it?”
“’Cause you’re a thief and your arms are freakishly long!”
The tall man responded to the insults by dragging his tongue across the debated bread, sending the shorter one into a rage. There was shoving and a string of expletives before capable bystanders were driven to finally step in.
“And there we go,” the Arizona husband said, self-satisfied. “The infighting for resources has begun.”
Chapter Fifteen
File no. 03 – Interview with Blaire Hatfield, certified counselor
CHESA SALVADOR: Can you explain the meaning behind the name of your premarital workshop, “Pentimento”?
BLAIRE HATFIELD: Yeah, so a pentimento is an Italian word meaning “to repent.” I know that sounds grim, but it also describes a phenomenon that can occur with old oil paintings where the artist’s sketches, previous drafts, or mistakes that were painted over begin to peek through the completed work.
CS: How does this concept inform your approach to premarital counseling?
BH: I ask my clients to let go of the idealized version of their soon-to-be spouses because holding on to it can sometimes mean forgoing a more beautiful, interesting version of their partner. I want couples to acknowledge the whole, not just the nice veneer, to foster a deeper connection that can help them in the future when conflict inevitably arises.
At the activity sign-up desk, situated against a vacant wall on the main floor, Ruben was surprised to see the forms were filling up with names. There were calls to play classic board games, participate in scavenger hunts, and join a guitar jam session. One could practice yoga in the lobby, screen movies in the lobby, and do karaoke in the lobby. Even the hotel’s laundry services had a sign-up sheet.
Under normal circumstances, Ruben wouldn’t have bothered browsing the activity desk, but with no place to go and no schedule to adhere to, he’d joined Mary after breakfast in search of entertainment.
“See anything interesting?” Mary asked when they converged at the middle of the long table after starting on opposite ends.
“Nah,” he said. “What about you?”
“Polka dancing,” she said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, you know, to release the stress of the day.”
Ruben smiled picturing Mary getting down and folksy while wearing an outfit more suitable for lounging. “I’m sure you’ll have fun,” he said.
“Oh, I’m not actually going to do it.”
“Why not?”
