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Makena: Mostly about me refusing to date him.

Charlotte: Huh. Seems like that would be a pretty easy argument to stop having if you ask me. Why are you pushing this man away, Makena? I mean, I obviously don’t know him very well, but he seems really nice, and you two were so cute together at the wedding. You seemed to be having a really good time. I haven’t seen you laugh that much in a while.

Makena: Well, he’s six years younger than I am.

Charlotte: And you used to be his babysitter. Yeah, yeah. So? Who cares? You’re both adults now, and I know you, woman. You’re a beast when it comes to work. When’s the last time you made time to get laid?

Makena: No comment.

Charlotte: I thought so. Well…you’ll have an entire week on the road to decide what you’d like to do about that. Or WHO you’d like to do.

Makena: Stop! You’re a bad influence. I just finished talking myself out of sleeping with him on the trip, and now you’ve got me thinking about it again.

Charlotte: WHY ARE YOU TALKING YOURSELF OUT OF IT? When did you start hating fun? The Makena I used to know loved fun, and that boy looks like Fun with a capital F.

Makena: See! Right there. You just called him a boy, not a man.

Charlotte: That’s because I’m forty, honey. I could have given birth to that boy.

Makena: I mean, if you’d been a young teen pregnancy, I guess. Still seems like a stretch if you ask me.

Charlotte: Doesn’t matter. Anyone young enough to have come out of my vagina isn’t getting INTO my vagina. At least not for more than a night or two, anyway. Those are the rules. But you? You’re still a baby. Parker is the perfect age for you. And what’s the worst that can happen? It doesn’t work out, you decide you hate his gorgeous face, so you stop watching hockey and going to games?

Makena: I don’t watch hockey or go to games.

Charlotte: Exactly! I rest my case. And you should rest your vagina. On his face. Seriously, it’s way more fun than I remembered.

Makena: WHAT?! Hell yes, get you some, Charlotte! Who’s the lucky guy?! And how was his face? Talented and generous, I hope.

Charlotte: Oh, no one special. You know me, I don’t date. But yeah, he gave great face. It was a fun night. No regrets, and I want the same for you. We workaholics have to remind each other to get out there and live every once and a while.

Makena: I’m living! We have a very exciting itinerary planned, starting with the Mudbug Mayhem Festival in Crawlick!

Charlotte: Crawlick? Where the hell is that?

Makena: About three hours north, an hour outside of Shreveport.

Charlotte: So, in the middle of nowhere? Where are you staying? Last time I drove through that area, it was all farmland and a sketchy-looking casino that looked like a good place to get murdered.

Makena: OMG, that’s the same thing Parker said! Yeah, totally a place to go if you’re looking to get murdered. That’s why we’re going to camp the first night instead of getting a room at the casino.

Charlotte: CAMP!! AFTER ALL YOU’VE BEEN THROUGH? ARE YOU INSANE?

Makena: I love camping!

Charlotte: In a Louisiana summer? I would rather die. Seriously. I think death would be preferable. Forget enduring the heat and the bugs and the heat and the bugs and the heat and just go straight to a knife to the throat.

Makena: We bought mosquito netting and tons of bug spray. And the temp’s supposed to drop to seventy-two overnight. We’ll be fine.

Charlotte: Ew. No. Gross. This is why God, in all her wisdom, made the indoors. And air conditioning. What about snakes? Have you thought about snakes?

Makena: We’re going to sleep in the back of Parker’s truck on an air mattress, with a little camping thing on top. Totally posh and off the ground, far away from the snakes. And if spending our first night camping in a field full of drunk crawfish enthusiasts snoring off a Hurricane Hangover doesn’t kill the vibe once and for all, nothing will.

Charlotte: Ah, I see. Clever girl.

Makena: Thank you.

Charlotte: And what if it doesn’t kill the vibe? What are you going to do then?