Page 73 of Britta & the Beach Boy
“If you two get into a swimming pool instead of enjoying the ‘villa’…’” Georgia makes air quotes here, which only makes things worse. “You have for one night, I’ll—I don’t actually know what I’ll do—be very, very disappointed, I guess.” She’s not smiling anymore as she turns to Britta. “Do we need to have ‘the talk’? Is that what’s happening here? Because I’ll do it. We both know your dad would rather doanythingbut that.”
What I learned about Georgia when she lived next door is that she doesn’t take no for an answer. Ever. Britta has to know this better than I do, so I wait for her to respond.
“I’m twenty-six, not six, Georgia,” Britta says. “I don’t need the talk, thank you very much.” Britta tugs at my hand. “Should we go to our room…honey?”
I nod. My mouth has gone dry. We’re going to our room. As a married couple. To celebrate our wedding night.
I have no clue what that will look like without touching. I don’t remember seeing a TV in our villa, and I didn’t bring any board games. I don’t even know if Britta likes board games. I should probably know that about my wife, shouldn’t I?
Now that I think about it, there’s a long list of things I should learn about Britta. Like her birthday. Her favorite color. Her favorite food. Whether she has allergies. That one is important. What if I accidentally kill her with peanuts or cats or something?
These are all my thoughts as we walk in silence to our room, which is bigger than the house I grew up in, but only has one bed.One.
As soon as the door closes behind us, Britta opens her mouth to say something, but I’m already blurting, “Do you have any allergies I should know about?”
She closes her mouth and shakes her head. “Do you?”
“Latex. I can’t wear--”
Britta’s eyes go wide. My face catches fire as I realize what she’s afraid I’m going to say.
“Goggles. I can’t wear goggles. If we were to go swimming, or something.” Why does thesomethingsound dirty in this context? Why did I even say it? When else would I wear goggles besides to swim?
“Good to know,” she says slowly before waving her thumb toward the bathroom. “Do you mind if I use it first? I think I’ll sit in that tub, and I may be there for a while.”
Sit in the tub?I picture Britta hanging out in the tub, fully clothed, then realize she means she’s going to take a bath.
And now I’m not picturing her fully clothed.
I swallow hard. “Sure. Take your time. It’s past my bedtime, anyway. I’ll make myself a bed on the couch. Can I brush my teeth before you… uh, bathe?”
“Of course.”
We look at each other for a few seconds, then I grab my toiletry bag and make my way to the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, I’m on a couch that should be more comfortable than it is, based on how much this villa costs per night, listening to the water run as Britta fills her bath, reminding myself to not get distracted.
Chapter twenty-seven
Britta
Istep into the tub, then sink all the way in, letting the hot water swallow my entire body. I can almost stretch my legs straight; the tub is that big. I squeeze my eyes shut and stay under for as long as I can hold my breath, hoping when I reemerge it will be without the crushing guilt I’ve felt since stepping off the High Roller and touching blessed solid ground again.
A normal person would feel guilty for not telling her family the whole truth about why she’s getting married, but that’s only part of what’s eating me up. The main thing I don’t think I’ll ever get over is the fact that I got married today and didn’t think about my mom once during the entire ceremony.
Maybe it’s because it happened so fast or because I was ten seconds away from a full-blown panic attack through the whole thing, but I didn’t miss her. And I should have. This is a day we planned together. Sure, the wedding looked nothing like my old Pinterest boards, but that’s not the issue.
I’m not sure I can forgive myself for forgetting her today.
And I wonder if the main reason I did is because I had Dex by my side, holding my hand. For the first time since Mom passed, I didn’t feel like a part of me was missing. I felt whole again—my heart intact—even though I was doing something that feels wrong. But right. But wrong.
I let all that’s happened and all my thoughts and regrets cycle through me for a long time—until the water is lukewarm and my fingertips are prunes. I almost turn the hot water on again, so I can stay in longer, but I don’t want to be alone with these thoughts anymore. I haven’t found a resolution, I’ve just grown more used to the questions, I guess. So, I climb out and put on my pjs.
Not sexy ones, and to be honest, that makes me a little sad too. The wedding ceremony wasn’t anything like what I’d pictured, but it was still amazing. I faced my fear of heights and got married in the sky withRhys Jamesas the officiant. I mean, come on. How could I be disappointed about that?
But the wedding night?
That won’t be anything like I imagined.
