Chapter 9 #3
The next couple of days were spent being sun lizards, drinking too much, eating too much, and realizing we were the only single people at our resort.
The crowd was definitely on the older side, and married couples, people who can afford a luxury resort.
As we were lying out on the beach, we noticed the staff setting up what appeared to be a wedding.
“If I ever am forced into wedlock some day, I'll be getting married on a beach, and no one is invited,” Cora proclaimed. “The thought of getting married already grosses me out, but having to engage in small talk with all of your parents’ friends and cousins you don’t even like, no thanks, man.”
“If you're ever forced into wedlock, you’d better be inviting me because I'll need to see it to believe it.”
“You're the exception. All jokes aside, I can’t even see myself doing that. I’ve never been in a relationship longer than a week.
I think I'm destined to be an old maid. I wonder if it’s an older couple getting married.
Or maybe it’s someone doing a vow renewal.
Well, now we have a plan,” she said, stretching out to get comfortable, “Roast on this beach until we see who comes down. Better hit me with some more sunscreen.”
I reached for the SPF and started to spray her back.
“I hope it’s a cute old couple in their 70s.
They dated in college, but then they lost touch and got married to other people.
Their spouses both died, and they made their way back to each other for a late-in-life romance, to have someone to spend their remaining years with. ”
Cora spins around, getting a spray of sunscreen in her mouth. She blows raspberries in my face and rolls her eyes at me. “Ugh, you're such a romantic. I don’t even know how we are made of the same genetic material.”
The wedding party started making their way to the seating area; it was a mix of ages and couples.
We see a few girls in bridesmaid dresses and a couple of men in white linen shirts and khaki pants, no shoes.
It’s looking like it must be a couple around our age getting married.
Wedding procession music starts to fill the air, and we see the groom head down the beach and take his place under the flowered arch.
He is a very good-looking man and looks so sweet and nervous.
The bride makes her way down the beach with a couple, who I assume are her parents.
We are too far away to hear the wedding ceremony.
“Are you ready to go up to the room and shower?” Cora asked, starting to put her things back in her beach bag.
“You can go get a head start. I’m going to stay and finish this chapter in my book.”
As Cora is leaving, the ceremony comes to an end.
The bride and groom went off to take pictures, and the resort staff started setting up tables and chairs for dinner on the beach.
They are also setting up a makeshift dance floor and a DJ booth.
This does look like the perfect way to get married.
A beautiful backdrop, resort staff to do everything for you, and a small crowd of people closest to you.
Cora and I clean up and slip into beachy maxi dresses for supper. I’ve come to realize that vacationing here is mostly a matter of passing time between meals. After working so much lately, it’s a welcome relief to have nothing to think about except feeding myself—on food I didn’t have to prepare.
Cora leaned back, groaning. “I'm so full. I haven’t eaten this much in my whole life combined. Do you want to go for a walk on the beach so we don’t wake up as whales tomorrow morning?”
“Sure. Let's get some wine and go for a stroll. I got a little buzz going at supper, and I might get wild and stay up until 10 p.m. tonight.”
“Slow down, Grandma. I’m going to hit the restroom. Grab me a red wine, and I’ll meet you out front.”
We walked the resort grounds toward the beach, and it was nearly silent except for the distant sound of dance music coming from the beach and the lull of waves crashing on the shore.
As the resort’s general population was older, there wasn’t much going on at night after dinner.
We slipped off our sandals by the stairs and went down to the beach.
The night was warm, the sand cool beneath my feet, and the breeze coming off the ocean was so refreshing.
We walked about a mile down the beach, passing other resorts, most of which were just as quiet—aside from an occasional celebration beachside like the one at ours.
“Should we turn around? Too much longer and I’m going to start a fire between my thighs from the chafing,” Cora quipped. The humidity and the dresses, combined with the thick thighs passed down from our mother’s side of the family, have been creating some issues for us this week.
“Yes, I’m ready for bed.” I checked my watch. “We made it to 9 p.m. tonight! We are still young, wild, and free.”
I received some major side-eye from Cora.
“This is not what I had envisioned when I thought of two young, wild, and free sisters partying in Mexico. Next time, we need to scope out the median age range of the resort we are going to. I think we should check out one of the clubs tomorrow night. I have to get my mojo back.”
I groan. “If we must.”
As we walked back to our resort, we heard the wedding reception music and people whooping it up on the dance floor.
The wedding party seems to be having a blast. As we were walking by, one of the groomsmen hollered at us, but over the music and roar of the ocean, we couldn't understand what he was saying.
Cora grabbed my arm and pulled me over toward the beach dance floor.
“Hey, come and dance with us!” Drunk groomsman number one shouted at us.
“Yeah, everyone here is married except us, and it’s disgusting. We need company!” Drunk groomsman number two yelled.
I stopped dead in my tracks and felt Cora pull on my arm. “Come on, Cass. Let’s go—single men at our resort. We only have one shot, one opportunity. We can’t let it slip away!”
“I am not crashing their wedding!”
“We aren’t crashing; we were invited,” she whisper-shouted at me, dragging my body behind her. “We are plus ones!”
I groaned, yet let her drag me over to the dance floor. The groomsmen were waiting for us, high-fiving, impressed that their hollering actually worked.
Drunk groomsman number one made the introductions. “Hi, I’m Justin, and this is my brother, Jeffrey. We thought we were the only people here who didn’t have gray hair. It was a pleasure to see you two ladies on the beach earlier today. I’m glad we caught you.”
Cora yanked me closer to the men. “I’m Cora, and this is my sister, Cassie. Are you telling me you guys are brothers with names that start with the same letter and have pulled in sisters whose names also start with the same letter? What are the odds?”
We were making small talk when a slow song came on, and the newlyweds started dancing. “So what brings you to this resort, ladies?” Jeffrey asked.
“We needed a break from winter and responsibilities. We have never been out of the country. We didn’t want to wind up out of the country at a sketchy resort, so we splurged, and it looks like that gets you in with the gray-haired crowd.”
Through some additional chatting, we learn that the brothers are the groom’s best friends. They all hail from upstate New York, except for Justin, who shockingly lives in a different suburb of our city. What are the odds?
The music sped up, and Cora whispered to me, “Dibs on the one I have no chance of ever seeing again.” She grabbed Jeffrey’s arm, the older brother, and pulled him out onto the dance floor.
True to Cora’s nature, she was soon dancing and laughing with the bride and bridesmaids while I watched from the sidelines with Justin, the groomsman from the burbs.
Justin nudged my shoulder with his. “This really isn’t my thing, but we might as well go dancing.” He pulled me over to the bar and said, “I’m going to need a tequila first. Want one?”
“When in Mexico,” I replied. We cheers-ed our shot glasses, threw them back with a grimace, and hit the dance floor.
What we had anticipated to be another early night in bed, turned out to be the most fun night of our trip thus far.
We danced with the brothers and the rest of the wedding party until 1 a.m., when the resort staff came to tear down the reception.
Cora and Jeffrey had disappeared somewhere a while ago, but I was having so much fun dancing and drinking that I didn’t really mind.
“Let me walk you back to your room and make sure you find Cora,” Justin said as he grabbed my hand.
We stopped by the steps to pick up my sandals, and I noticed that Cora’s were gone.
The resort was huge, but it turned out my room was on the way to his, so he walked back with me.
As I walked up to the door, I noticed the Do Not Disturb hanger was on the door, which was weird because we hadn’t even used it.
“Thanks for walking me back. I’m sure Cora is in the room. When do you guys leave?” I asked.
“We are here for three more days. Most of the wedding party is leaving the day after tomorrow. We decided to extend our trip a little for some fun in Mexico. We also didn’t understand the vibe of this resort when we booked it,” he said with a grin.
“Okay, well, I’m sure we will see you around the pool or the beach tomorrow. Thanks for walking me back to my room.”
“No problem. My room number is 2274. If you don’t find Cora in there, come get me, and we’ll track those two down.
My brother is kind of famous for getting lost in unfamiliar locations when he’s been drinking heavily.
Have you seen The Hangover? That was basically the scene of the last bachelor party we went to.
” He laughed and leaned in for a side hug.
“It was good to meet you. Hopefully we can hang out again tomorrow.”
I felt a little blush creep over my cheeks. “Okay, see you tomorrow.”