My mom owned a retail store and it didn’t open until ten in the morning, so she enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in. That plan didn’t work out when I woke up constantly late and missed the bus. My only option was to ride Big Bird, the name I bestowed on my ugly ten-speed, to school. Like I suspected, that bike became a topic of much ridicule over my freshman year. So as a tribute, I forgot it at school on the last day and didn’t say anything for a couple weeks. After I felt enough time had passed for someone to steal it, I told my parents. It wasn’t a far stretch, considering my forgetfulness was almost as bad as my clumsiness. And that was the last time I had been on a bike.
“Florida in October is awesome,” I exclaimed, pulling myself from the memory. The temperature was in the mid-eighties and there was no humidity. I grabbed my sunglasses and hopped on the bike.
The first few minutes were precarious, but after we turned off the street it became easier to navigate. The bike Jake picked for me looked nothing like Big Bird. It reminded me more of Pee-Wee Herman. Cherry red with long handlebars. He had affixed a cute little bell close enough to ring without having to move my hands. I bet he didn’t realize how smart this actually was. I could just imagine the catastrophic spill I would take were I to attempt riding with one hand.
Jake rode circles around me, literally.
“Stop doing that, dork. You’re gonna make me dizzy. And if I fall, you’re carrying my ass home.”
He tossed his head back and laughed. “Don’t be such a chicken.”
The sun felt good on my shoulders and the ride did wonders to alleviate the constant state of stress nursing school kept me in. I had to reposition my butt a few times since the seat kept giving me an atomic wedgie.
The beach packed in the tourists like sardines. The challenge became finding enough open space to stretch out the towels and not be on top of our neighbors. Jake carried the cooler to the sand and opened it to reveal a six-pack of Labatt Blue and some sandwiches.
“Well, didn’t you just go all out? You sly dog.” Leaning over, I gave him a quick peck.
The chicken salad and beer went down easy, and I thought about my marriage. I had kissed my share of frogs before finding Jake, and it didn’t take long to realize he was a keeper. He was one of those men who subscribed to the happy wife, happy life theory. After a short stint in the army he attended Villanova University in Philadelphia and earned his degree in computer programming. His career was now in full swing, and he had the luxury of working from home, which made special afternoons like this easy to accommodate.
Dusting sandwich crumbs from my hands I stripped down to my bathing suit and held my hand out to Jake.
“Come on; let’s go for a swim.”
“I’ll follow you. I want to admire the view.” Giving my ass a little pat, he let out an admiring whistle. I slapped him playfully and ran to the shore, dipping my foot in. The water temperature was in the seventies. Growing up in New England, it was damn near a miracle for the water to hit seventy degrees there. Now, having acclimated to Florida weather, my teeth chattered any time my pool went below eighty-five. The cold water shocked my system when it hit my inner thighs and I turned back to Jake.
“Come on slow poke, the water’s nice and warm.” I let out a giggle as I said it, knowing he’d believe me and run into the water to catch up. What can I say? Misery loves company.
I broke into laughter as Jake ran to the water and dove in head-first.
He came up for air yelling, “Holy shit! You’re gonna pay for that!” And so began the fight to dunk me. Which, of course, he won. We warmed up by walking hand-in-hand up the beach. Further up the shore we saw an ambulance drive onto the sand.
“The day is never complete until a snowbird passes out on the beach. Cape Coral, Florida. Home of the geriatric population of the world,” I griped.
“It looks pretty bad,” Jake mused. A crowd had gathered around the commotion.
As we peddled our bikes home from the beach, we played the lottery game. We took turns telling each other what we would buy if we won the Megabucks. We decided we would buy up all the land on an entire street and build our own community for our friends and family. We spent the next twenty minutes telling each other what we’d put in the community. Pools for everyone and a central pool to gather around for family barbecues. Jake always had such a wild imagination, so his contribution was a miniature golf course. I could get behind that in the cold months, but there was no way I would stand outside in the July heat for it.
“Don’t forget Thanksgiving is coming up next month,” Jake reminded me. “It’s our turn to host.”
Since we switched off with his parents, I realized he was right. It was our turn. While I was an only child, Jake was the oldest of three. His sister Meg was off at school studying psychology. It felt kind of weird to be thirty-seven and in college at the same time as his twenty-one-year-old sister. Their brother, Vinny, followed in Jake’s footsteps and joined the army after a bad break-up. Vinny was a big teddy bear. His goofy personality made him easy to be around.
Madly in love with his high school sweetheart, Vinny vowed their relationship would defy the statistics. For a while we thought he was right. Lena was a year younger than him and still in high school when he went off to Methodist College in North Carolina to pursue a degree as a physical trainer. Vinny had always been a brick shithouse. The guy was six-foot four and two-hundred and fifty pounds of solid mass. His high school football career landed him a free ride to Methodist on an athletic scholarship.
Lena had one of those families you’d expect to see on Jerry Springer. A horrible role model, her mother had a constant string of boyfriends, each more deplorable than the last. She spent her nights in an alcohol-induced haze and wasting her measly earnings on pot and booze instead of the bills. Due to her mother’s failure to pay the rent on time, Lena had found herself living out of the boxes that she refused to unpack since she knew the cycle would just repeat. The final straw was when her mother collected her car insurance payment and it never made it to the bank. After she got pulled over and her car was impounded, Lena moved in with my in-laws, taking Vinny’s old room.
The year apart proved to be agony for him and after the semester ended he moved home and enrolled in the community college for his paramedic license. The two lovebirds were anxious to get a place of their own, and my mother-in-law helped find them the perfect starter home.
Lena’s credit was nonexistent, so the Rossi’s offered to cosign with Vinny. They even kicked in the down payment to get them started off. The first year was bliss. Vinny and Lena were affectionate, and one was never too far from the other. They got one of those drooling boxers that reminded me of the dog from Turner and Hooch; we’re talking some serious drool—solid strings of ooze that could fly across the room when the dog shook its head and just stick to a wall like cooked pasta. Vinny proposed, and while Lena accepted, she insisted on a long engagement.
The first indication of trouble in paradise shone when Lena began to skip family holidays or not talk to anyone when she did grace us with her presence. She could be found sitting on the sofa, arms crossed, and a sour puss on her face. Still, my in-laws treated her as one of their own. She wanted a new car but couldn’t finance it with her credit, so they once again overextended themselves and cosigned the loan for her. The agreement was that she would make all the payments.