Page 46 of Only for the Week
We make our way to the patio where dinner will be held and there is a beautiful buffet display waiting for us. Arnold explains that he had the rehearsal dinner catered by Highly Catered, a private caterer that specializes in THC-infused dishes, as an extra treat for us.
Our hostess explains to us that the buffet is loaded with braised oxtail, Cajun lobster mac and cheese, jerk lamb chops, shrimp pasta, jollof rice, ackee pasta, and garlic-crusted broccoli. She further explains that there are dishes with no THC in them in case anyone doesn’t want to participate or wants to eat more later but doesn’t want to keep eating the food with THC in it.
Ri asks Arnold to give a toast but he’s already making his plate, officially done with hosting us. I can’t blame him, the food looks and smells heavenly.
I load my plate up with some of everything, shoveling a big spoonful into my mouth the moment I sit down.
“Look, look, look. They’re synchronized,” I hear Christian say.
I peek at Dani and Evie, noting that all three of us are doing a happy dance as we eat the mac and cheese.
We all laugh, and I expect Evie to have something smart to say but she’s too busy stuffing her face to care what Christian has to say.
I hate to say this, but I think if I’m going to spend long periods of time with Ri for the remainder of this trip, I’m going to have to get her high first.
She’s been nothing but a giggling machine since eating and it’s the cutest thing. I can do no wrong in her eyes right now; everything I say is the funniest shit she’s ever heard. She’s just like a baby, so easily pleased.
“I just love pasta so much. I think if I could be any food, I’d probably be pasta. I’d be this pasta one hundred percent,” she rambles. “Babe, if I were pasta would you eat me?”
Dani hides her laughter at Ri’s antics in the crook of her elbow.
“I would a hunnid percent eat you if you were pasta, Ri. You’d be so delicious as pasta.”
“Right? I’d be the best pasta ever.”She giggles behind her hand. High Ri is the best Ri.
She goes to fix a second plate, but I stop her. “You sure you wanna eat more of the THC food, Ri? You don’t wanna take a break and eat regular food for a minute?”
“I’m so hungry, sis. I’m soooo hungry.”
“I know, so you can eat the regular food if you want, but you’re sitting real nice with your high right now. I don’t think you should push it.”
She starts rapping the words to “Push It” by Salt-N-Pepa, making me wonder if she somehow snuck some alcohol that I didn’t see before. I guess we can chalk it up to the fact that she never gets high and let her have her moment.
“I think there’s…” she cuts herself off, turning to look at whatever imaginary thing just whizzed by her, and when she turns back to me, she must have forgotten she was speaking because she doesn’t say a word.
“Okay, go eat, Ri.”
She literally perks up at the use of the word“eat”and then piles her plate high with more infused food.
I shake my head, thanking God that Arnold is the one who has to deal with her tonight. I’ll take the fun Ri, not the past-her-limits Ri, nor the hungover Ri that’s bound to visit us tomorrow.
Evie leaves dinner without so much as a goodbye, but texts me that she was so sleepy and her bed was calling her so at least I know she’s safe.
With everyone impaired, no one pays attention to Rome and me, so we walk back to my room hand in hand.
“How you holding up?” I ask once he closes my door.
“I should be asking you that, your eyes are barely open.”
I chuckle, walking toward him until we’re face to face. “I’m feeling really good.”
“Good.”
“Mhm, I could feel even better, though.”
“How so?”
“A little birdie told me that you’re the reason I got to swim with sea turtles today. Is that the case?”
