Page 75 of Marriage (Red, White &) Blues

“I don’t think I?—”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing you have me to think for you.”

Pretty ballsy for a woman I just met. I liked it. Her strong personality reminded me of Sierra. Si never held back. I missedher. I missed Pen, too. And Ant. Okay, I sighed. Sue me. But then,no. I lived in Vermont now. I had to start living my life here… in Vermont.

“Gloria? Are you still there?” she asked.

Oh—shoot. Caught in my own head again. “Yup. I’m here. Sorry. I was going through my mind to see if I even have a swimsuit here.”

“Don’t give me that. You told me yesterday about the trip to Cancun. You have a damn suit.”

“Where do you want me to pick you up?” I asked.

“Don’t bother. I’ll swing by and grab you.” She’d swing by? That would entail me giving out my address. My personal address that I shared with my husband, BlakeParker. Gloria Kowalski would have given her address without thinking. I started to panic, unsure what to do. “Gloria? Your address?”

As my time ticked down, I squeezed my eyes shut, and took the plunge. “Listen, you have to understand that with my husband’s family and the upcoming election, giving out my address is complicated.”

“Your address is safe with me.” The seriousness in her voice convinced me.

“Okay.”

Please, I prayed to the universe.Don’t let this blow up in my face. I like being married. And then I promptly dug out my suit. Second summer rocked. I pulled on a pair of green shorts with white trimming over the bottoms and a black tank over the suit top. Then, after sliding my black thong sandals on my feet, I pulled a large bath sheet from the linen closet, shoving that in my beach bag along with my phone, keys, and lastly, my little wallet holding with my credit card, a little bit of cash, and my ID.

A ponytail seemed to fit the situation. I forwent the makeup because we were swimming today. One last check in the mirrorto make sure that I wouldn’t scare small children if I got caught on camera later and I ran down the stairs to wait for Lorelei.

About a half hour later she rolled up in a teal-blue Jeep Wrangler that shimmered like a mermaid in the sun. She turned down the radio as I climbed in. “Buckle up. We’re heading to Silver Lake.”

“I’ve never been.”

She whipped her head to stare at me, mouth agape, like she was actively watching horns growing out of my skull on both sides of my head. “You’venever beento Silver Lake?”

“I haven’t lived here that long. Blake moved me here from Michigan, we spent the first few days copulating like brown antechinus on every surface in the house, and then his brother accepted the party nomination.”

“Wait—copulating like brown antechinus? What, are you a nature host on National Geographic? It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Attenborough.”

I threw my hand over my mouth, fighting back the giggle fit. It sounded ridiculous when she said it back to me, but my point held merit. “First—I love the Sir David Attenborough reference. Secondly, the brown antechinus mating habits are fascinating. For two weeks during mating season, the male has sex up to fourteen hours a day. Now, the brown antechinus usually moves from female to female, but given the committed nature of our relationship, Blake only had me. But I assure you, I was up for the challenge.” The last words came out of my mouth and—crap. It felt so nice to be with a friend again, I forgot that I hadn’t vetted her trustfulness yet. Open mouth and insert foot. Blake and I couldn’t afford for me to make mistakes.

It was done. I couldn’t suck the words back into my mouth no matter that I’d hook my mouth up to a vacuum if I thought it’d work.

In less than twenty minutes, she turned us onto the road that led into the state park. We waited in the line of cars, trucks, and SUVs for our turn to pay, which I was fully prepared to do, but when we reached the front the park official waved us through. That was when I noticed the sticker in the corner of the windshield.

We pulled into a parking spot and walked to the sandy beach. People camped here, too. I saw the signs all over the place. For a weekday, the beach had a lot of people. But if Vermont winters were anything like Michigan winters, then this made sense—second summer and all. We actually found our way to an empty section of the heated sand. It shifted under my feet, causing a couple of unsexy slips, but ask me if I cared. The sun warmed me down to my bones. It felt nice.

Blake would love this place. I’ll have to get him here before the temperatures drop.

Both Lorelei and I laid out our towels and I realized that I’d forgotten my sunglasses. Too late now, I simply made the best of it. Whenever she talked to me, I held my hand over my eyes as a visor.

“Did you bring sunscreen?” she asked. Sunscreen? What in the ever-loving-pasty-white-redhead was wrong with me? How had I forgotten my sunglassesandmy sunscreen? The melanin-challenged such as myself lived by the sunscreen or died by the sun. My Day-Glo skin made me a prime candidate for full Vitamin D absorption—if I lived in Norway. Neither Michigan nor Vermont lay along the same latitudinal lines as Norway. More like Rome and Madrid. See the problem?

I imagined the headline:Gloria Parker takes her campaigning in the red states a shade too far. Could anyone say humiliating?

“What has you so distracted?”

I heard, or, I thought I heard her speak, as I was too busy berating myself for forgetting the two most important pieces of kit for any beachgoing redhead.

“Gloria?”

I heard my name again and looked up to see Lorelei snapping her fingers at me, half-frowning, and half-laughing.

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