Chapter 14 #3
Monica loved how everyone could banter back and forth and not get their feelings hurt. And she had to admit that she liked Elodie and Lexie even better now, just knowing they went to bed early like her. It made her feel as if they had something in common, however small.
“Oh! He’s typing!” Ashlyn said. “Damn, I hate those three dots…he needs to learn to type faster.” Then she stared down at the phone and started giggling.
“What? What’d he say?” In her drunken happiness, Ashlyn was laughing too hard to respond, so she just handed her phone to Monica.
She read what Slate sent out loud. “‘Looks like you guys are having a good time.’ Oh, wait…he just sent another one,” she said, then read that one out loud too.
“‘If you were trying to turn me off, it didn’t work. I think you’re sexy no matter what kind of face you’re making. ’”
Everyone was quiet for a long beat, then they burst out laughing as Ashlyn quickly grabbed for her phone.
“I knew it!” Lexie exclaimed. “I knew there was something between you guys!”
“There’s not,” Ashlyn insisted. “He’s a player. And he just wants me because I told him I wasn’t interested.”
Elodie abruptly stopped laughing. “Slate’s not a player,” she said seriously. “None of the guys are.”
“Right,” Ashlyn said. “He’s tall, dark, handsome, and he’s a Navy SEAL. He’s totally getting pussy whenever he wants.”
“No, he’s not,” Elodie insisted. “I mean, I don’t have any inside knowledge, but from what Scott says, the guys are all well past that time in their lives. Sure, when they were in their early twenties they all dated a lot, but now? No.”
“I’m not interested in dating anyone,” Ashlyn said.
Monica thought she heard a touch of desperation in her words. Almost as if she was begging them to believe her.
“After following Franklin to Hawaii, I’m done with men. Carly and I are gonna stay single for a very long time,” Ashlyn declared.
“Good luck with that,” Lexie muttered.
“My turn,” Ashlyn said, turning to Monica. “Truth or dare?”
Monica froze. She was essentially a chicken, and she definitely didn’t want to have to send a picture of herself to Stuart or something equally as embarrassing. But she was also scared to death about what the other woman might ask if she decided on truth.
After a long pause, she finally blurted, “Truth.”
“You can ask for a different question if you want, but I’ve been wondering…what happened to your hand? Were you born that way?”
Monica swallowed hard. She had a choice. She could do the cowardly thing and refuse to answer, requesting a new question. Or she could be honest. Open herself up to these women. If she decided to stay, and if she really did want to earn their friendship, she needed to open up.
So she told them. And she didn’t hold anything back.
She explained why and how her dad had done it.
Talked about how much it had hurt, and when the infection had set in, how she’d suffered in silence, knowing better than to ask her dad to take her to the doctor.
She told the women how she’d woken up after the surgery, alone and scared to death.
How her fingers still hurt to this day, even though they weren’t there anymore.
When she was done, the room was dead silent—and Monica regretted bringing the mood of the night down so low.
Just when she was about to apologize, Kenna exclaimed, “What a fucking asshole!”
“Yeah! Who the hell did he think he was? Hurting a little kid? And his daughter at that!” Lexie agreed.
“I hope his penis shriveled up and fell off!” Elodie added.
Monica couldn’t help but chuckle at that.
“How can you laugh right now?” Ashlyn asked softly.
“It’s just that…I’m guessing his penis did shrivel up,” Monica said, before explaining how her dad had frozen to death.
“Good.”
“Got what he deserved.”
“Fucker!”
“Have you told Pid that story?” The question came from Elodie.
“Yes.”
“I bet he was pissed.”
“Yeah, he was,” Monica admitted.
Elodie nodded, as if that settled something she’d been thinking about. “Your turn,” she told Monica.
“What?”
“Your turn to pick someone for Truth or Dare.”
It was hard for Monica to switch her brain away from her memories. She’d kinda expected the party to break up after her story, but instead her new friends had expressed their disgust with her dad and moved on. She liked that a hell of a lot. “Lexie, truth or dare.”
“Dare.”
Monica racked her brain for a good dare. Then she remembered something she’d seen on the Internet a few days ago. She picked up her phone and did a quick search for an appropriate picture to use and texted it to Lexie.
“You’re scaring me, Monica,” Lexie said with a laugh.
“Sorry. I just texted you a picture. Your dare is to send that to Midas and ask him what size he wants, because you’re ordering matching ones for you and him.”
“Oh my God, this is hilarious!” Lexie said after looking at her phone. “We all need to do this and compare responses.”
“What? What’s the picture?” Kenna asked.
Lexie turned her phone around and showed the others what Monica had sent her.
It was a picture of a man standing in front of a white background, wearing a long T-shirt that went down to his knees.
Essentially what looked like a nightgown.
It was light blue with navy-blue piping at the hem and around the arms and neck.
There was even a small pocket on the upper left chest.
“Oh, hell yeah, I want to see what Scott says,” Elodie said.
“Marshall is gonna say ‘hell no,’” Kenna mumbled.
“You too, Monica,” Lexie insisted as she texted the picture to the others.
“Only if Ashlyn does,” Monica surprised herself by saying.
“Fine, but since Slate and I aren’t dating, it’s not going to work on him,” Ashlyn said.
They were quiet as they all typed a text.
“Ready?” Lexie asked. “On the count of three, hit the send button. One, two, three!”
Everyone giggled as they waited to see what their men would say when they saw the text. One by one, the responses came in.
Marshall: Love you, babe, but no.
Scott: How much have you had to drink?
Midas: I’ll wear it if you wear what I buy for you.
Slate: I saw this trick on the internet the other day. Not playing.
“What’d Pid say?” Lexie asked Monica.
She stared down at his text in disbelief. She looked up at the others and read his response out loud. “I like the blue.”
Everyone lost it then, laughing so hard, tears streamed down their faces.
“Oh my God, he has it so bad for you,” Kenna told her.
Monica couldn’t stop the small smile that formed on her lips. No man would agree to wear a nightgown like the one in the picture unless, one, he was completely secure in his manhood—which Stuart definitely was—or two, he really, really wanted to please the woman who wanted to buy it for him.
As the game continued, Monica did her best to put Stuart’s response out of her mind, but it was impossible. She couldn’t believe he would actually wear something like that just because she asked him to.
After another few rounds of Truth or Dare, it was obvious the party was winding down.
Lexie was the first to call it quits, and she headed into the guest room she was sharing with Ashlyn.
Elodie fell asleep on the couch not too much later, and after helping clean up a bit, Ashlyn headed down the hall to bed.
Kenna gestured for Monica to join her out on the balcony. Even though Monica was tired, she wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet. Her mind was too busy replaying the night, and how well she’d gotten along with everyone.
She and Kenna settled into lounge chairs, each with a bottle of water, and stared out at the moon hovering over the ocean in the distance.
“This was the best bachelorette party ever,” Kenna said.
“Even though there were no strippers and no tiaras or sashes proclaiming you the bride-to-be?” Monica teased.
“Especially because of that,” Kenna said. “I’m sorry, but strippers are kind of gross. Why would I want some stranger grinding up on me with his junk in my face? Yuck. I don’t mind admiring a good-looking man from a distance, but someone all oiled up and rubbing himself on me? No.”
“Like Baker?” Monica asked.
“Exactly,” Kenna said with a smile. “You okay?” she asked.
Monica looked over at her. “What do you mean?”
“I know you probably didn’t expect to spill some of your past with us tonight, and I hope you didn’t feel pressured.”
“I wasn’t expecting it,” Monica said. “But you know what? I feel pretty okay about it.”
“Good. I was going to say that story says more about your asshole of a father than it does about you…but that’s not true.
The fact that you’re still as sweet and nice as you are, after all that you’ve gone through and experienced, says everything about who you are.
You’re a hell of a strong woman, Monica, and I’m proud to call you my friend. ”
Monica knew Kenna was still tipsy, but her words meant the world to her regardless.
“Same,” she replied. It felt too pathetic to admit that Kenna and the others were basically the only true friends she’d had in her life, so she kept that part to herself.
“Are you excited about your wedding?” she asked.
“So excited I can’t stand it,” Kenna admitted.
“I don’t care about the traditional Hawaiian dancers, or the food, or even having a ceremony on the beach.
I only care about Marshall. I love him so much.
He accepts me exactly how I am. An extrovert who finds it her mission in life to make friends with everyone I meet, who’s completely happy being a waitress for the rest of my life, and who doesn’t care even a tiny bit about how much money is in my man’s bank account. ”
“He’s rich, huh?”
Kenna laughed and gestured to the condo behind them. “Yup.”
“Right. You’re lucky.”