Page 60 of Vitamin Sea
“Well—are you going to invite us in?” Lala mock demanded.
Chloe gave a short, humorous snort.
“Of course.” She opened the door wide and stepped out of the way. The trio bustled inside, took off their shoes, and then took in the state of Chloe’s condo. It had been several weeks since anyone but Chloe and Lala had seen the inside of it.
“Jesus Christ, Chlo,” Alejandra remarked. “We came to clean, but at this point I think your condo might need an exorcism.”
Lala took in the view and concurred.
“Call us Sisters Lala, Opal, and Alejandra,” she nodded before handing Chloe one of her bags. “Our Holy Lady of Perpetual Cleanup. Secret keepers of Clorox and multi-purpose cleaner."
Alejandra interjected, “We brought stuff to make dinner and do some meal and freezer prepping for you. We’ve also brought drinks, snacks, and board games. Most importantly, we’ve brought cleaning supplies. This place needs a love scrub.”
Lala gagged.
“Alove scrub, Alejandra?” she said in mock disgust. “Please never use that term again.”
Chloe felt slightly embarrassed.
“Thank you,” she sounded sheepish. “I have cleaning supplies. I’ve just lacked the will to use them.”
Opal, who had dropped her bags on the counter, somehow managing to find space between the dishes, wrappers, and empty containers, was already rummaging in the cupboard under her sink for cleaning products.
“Right,” Lala said, taking charge. “First, we’ll put away the perishables. Then, we’ll pour some drinks and get to cleaning.”
The next forty minutes saw the foursome scrubbing, polishing, Windex-ing, and sweeping for their lives. Alejandra had taken the liberty of putting on some upbeat pop music that was a throwback to their early twenties and they chatted, sipped, and cleaned like crazy. Chloe was surprised at what a difference it made to have the three of them there and something to do. She was so occupied by the cleanliness mission that she didn’t have the time to be sad.
The whirr of the dishwasher sounded off in the background, giving the promise of clean cutlery. It was a godsend, from the looks of how much food her friends had bought, that it didn’t look like she would be eating takeout for a while. The rest of the dishes sat in the sink, waiting their turn for the tablewareequivalent of a carwash. Just on the other side of one hour, her counters were sparkling, her floors were clean, four bags of garbage had been thrown down the chute, and her bird-of-paradise plant had been fed and watered.
The place even smelled clean. Which, Chloe supposed, it was. But it was also owing to the scent of Windex mingled with the vanilla bean candle Alejandra had brought and lit before they got to work. The number of garbage bags they removed was a real testament to Chloe’s state of mind, and their removal, along with the cleanliness of her condo, raised Chloe’s spirits and left her feeling lighter.
After a quick post-clean toast, Chloe’s kitchen counter was once again covered, but this time by all the groceries.
Opal got to work on making a hearty stew and the comforting scent of rosemary, thyme, and sage filled the air.
Chloe felt her stomach rumble. She had been eating exclusively takeout the past few weeks, yes. Just like she had been for the past four months. But in the last month, with Lala’s encouragement, she had mostly switched to the salad, hummus, and chicken kind of takeout. Despite that, her friends had removed several empty containers of Chinese food and other kinds of fast, deep-fried, and carb-heavy items during their cleaning spree. Noodles, egg rolls, sweet and sour sauce, and rice. Her diet for several months had not been designed to make her feel any better, but it had brought her some level of comfort. It had also been interspersed by pizza, burgers, fries, and Thai.
They spent the rest of the evening playing board games, drinking rosé and gossiping. Well—Opal, Alejandra, and Lala did, at least. Chloe tried to keep up with what they were saying, but the rosé was causing her to feel a bit weepy. Which was a shame because while she might be appreciating the fact that her girlfriends had come through for her in her time of need, she knew that when the sun came up tomorrow, she would be allalone again with nothing but her feelings. They carefully avoided any mention of her ex and any relationship-related talk, for which Chloe was grateful.
By the time her friends packed it in for the evening at a staggering 1:43 a.m., Chloe was exhausted. She hugged each of the girls and tried to find the words to tell them how appreciative she was, but nothing she said seemed sufficient. They hugged her back and told her how much they loved her and how happy they were that she was starting to come out on the other side.
Before she went to bed that evening, Chloe cried.
But it wasn’t for the death of her relationship. This time it was for a different reason. They weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears were of gratitude. For her friends.
Present
Chapter 18: Back to Reality
They were sitting in their weekly Tuesday-morning work meeting. It was Chloe’s first one since her jaunt to Costa Rica and, by this point, everyone atStrutknew that Chloe’s assignment had revolved around a naturist resort.
She had fielded questions about the sights she had seen at Costa Morpho in addition to questions from those curious as to just how those types of places worked. Which was something she would definitely be covering in the feature. Her coworkers wouldn’t be the only ones curious about the ins and outs of an upscale naturist resort. Which was what she now exclusively referred to Costa Morpho as, and she found herself correcting her colleagues when they used the term ‘nudist’. Amongst the things she had learned during her stay was that ‘nudist’, due to its supposed negative connotations, was out, and ‘naturist’ was in.
As a lover of words and the English language, Chloe was fascinated by how lingo fell in and out of usage. It was a bit like fashion, she supposed. One day Madonna’s cone-shaped bra and Millennial ankle socks were in, the next day, they were out.
After her return, several of her colleagues remarked on how relaxed Chloe seemed. It brought back memories of her first encounter with Aurelie, her travel editor predecessor.
“I could only get that kind of a glow with self-tanner!” Shai,Strut’s assistant beauty editor, moaned to Chloe in the staff kitchen. “I want first dibs on your next trip,” he said seriously. “Sea, sand, sun, shirtless men, and margaritas.”
