Page 15 of Love Overboard
Rafael grinned. “We will wait until you finish.”
“We may be a while,” said Emily.
“It is fine. Jonathan paid me for all day.”
Daisy put a delicate hand to her chest. “I think we owe him more than a thank-you note, ladies.”
Gerry shooed her into the building. “We’re helping him win the love of his life. That’s worth much more than a greeting card.”
A bell rang as the four entered not a salon but a convenience store.
Althea looked around. “Baby, are you sure you got the address right?”
“Don’t be put off by the surroundings.” Daisy waved to four cushy chairs shoved against the side wall. “This is where we want.”
In front of each chair sat a large glass box with water. Tiny gray fish about the size of pinto beans swam inside.
“Hello.” A woman appeared from the recesses of the store. “You want a treatment?”
“Yes, one for each of us.” Daisy motioned to her friends.
“Good. Sit here, please.” The attendant grabbed a pile of towels from a side table.
Gerry’s skinny fingers shot in the air as she held up her palm. “Hold on a minute. I’m not sitting anywhere until I know what this is.”
“It’s perfectly safe, Gerry.” Daisy took the chair on the far right and unbuckled her low-heeled leather sandals. “Ichthyotherapy is an all-natural pedicure. You place your feet in the water, and the fish eat the dead skin off your soles.”
“My cracked heels are their lunch?” Althea made a face but sat on the chair next to her. “Doesn’t sound very appetizing.”
The proprietor passed Gerry a laminated flyer, and Emily examined a bowl of Mexican candy as Gerry read aloud. “‘Ichthyotherapy is an organic treatment whereGarra rufafish micromassage your feet as they eat the outer layer of your skin. A relaxing, chemical-free experience.’”
Daisy rolled her pants legs to her knees and lowered her slender feet into the tank. “Ahhh.” She wilted on the chair. “The cool water refreshes my tired arches. Indulge yourself, Gerry.”
“They spelledchemicalk-e-m-i-c-a-l.” Gerry waved the sheet under Daisy’s nose.
She ignored the typo and rested her head against the wall.
“Ooooh.” Althea giggled as the fish in her own tank swarmed around her toes. “It tickles.”
“Oh well.” Emily walked to the chair beside her. “If you can’t beat them, et cetera.”
“There will be no ‘et cetera’ for me.” Gerry crossed her arms.
“Don’t be so stuffy, baby.” Althea flapped her hand at the empty seat. “It feels good.”
“I’ll stay over here, thank you. One of us should keep her shoes on to run for help.”
“Do whatever makes you comfortable, Gerry.” Emily learned a long time ago the woman had a stubborn streak the length of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. Arguing was pointless.
The holdout Shipper eyed the process with skepticism as enthusiastic fish nibbled at her friends’ toes, but Emily chuckled when she saw her pull a small notebook from her pocket. Gerry might not get a pedicure out of the trip, but she must have gotten inspiration for her book.
Emily leaned farther back on her seat.
The sounds and smells of Cozumel drifted through the open doorway. Meat sizzled on the griddle of the taco cart at the curb, and the spicy scent of carne asada with grilled onions wafted on the breeze. A store owner across the street beckoned at a man in a loud, ill-fitting Hawaiian shirt lingering outside. “Let me give you a tequila shot. Come on.” It was a common sales tactic in the port town for getting customers into one’s shop.
Emily’s gaze met the tourist’s through the glass window, and she shook her head at him. He tugged his panama hat lower on his forehead, hunched his shoulders, and followed the owner inside.
She tsk-tsked. “I hope he doesn’t visit every establishment on the strip.”
