Page 28 of Harper's Holiday Romance
We spoke about taxes, holiday allowance, maternity pay, pensions, and health care. I was intrigued by every aspect. The more they spoke, the more I listened, asking one leading question after another.
Jill turned to Bob every so often during one of his digressing answers and laughed.
“You’re losing her, Bob.”
He liked to elaborate on a story, and he spoke non-stop until the purpose of the story was forgotten. It was adorable. He always came back to his original point eventually.
“I think you should let Harper relax now.” Jill rolled her eyes, had a shot of tequila, and turned to face the sun. They had such a playful relationship, and after thirty-four years of marriage it was something to behold. It was a bond I could only hope to have one day.
“Don’t worry. I’m enjoying the conversation.” I beamed.
“See!” Bob grinned. He stuck his tongue out, and Jill opened her book shaking her head whilst laughing.
There was a break in conversation, and I ordered my third margarita of the day. The waiter returned with my drink and three shots of a clear liquid.
“When did you order these?” Jill asked.
He put his finger to his lip. “I didn’t. I think they’re complimentary.”
Jill reached for the shot. “I’m not mad at it this time. Usually, he orders shots when I’m already drunk and on the verge of throwing up, and he thinks it’s appropriate.”
I chuckled. Bob handed me the third shot glass.
“What is it?”
“Nothing too harsh, I promise,” Bob said.
“Cheers,” all three of us said in unison. We clinked shot glasses before the spicy liquid made its way sharply down my oesophagus. I should’ve thrown it over my shoulder, but the woman sunbathing directly behind me wouldn’t have taken too kindly to the sticky harsh liquid melting into her body.
My small glass hit the circular wooden table in front of me. My eyes were firmly clenched shut. My mouth pursed like I’d just sucked on a cut of lime.
“Urghh.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how you do that so calmly.”
“We’re a lot older than you honey. We’ve had the practice. Plus, when you’re married to this guy for thirty-four years, alcohol is sometimes the only thing that gets you through.” Jill smirked.
I was still shaking my head and trying not to let the contents of my breakfast reappear, so I didn’t notice the figure approaching from the left. The sun made it hard to focus. I watched the female figure bend down to kiss Bob and Jill on the cheek.
“Are you guys doing shots again? Jesus. I leave you alone for two hours.” She drops her towel on the bed next to them followed by the complimentary canvas beach bag that the hotel provided. Her straw hat was tipped on one side making it difficult to see her face, and her other hand held a mobile phone to her ear; she said her goodbyes to whoever was on the line.
“This is our daughter, Julia. She’s on vacation with us,” Bob introduced her.
Julia.
Before she fully turned to reveal her face away from the glare of the sun, I knew exactly who she was.
Oh—
My face was unmoving, but a smirk crept across her lips.
What in the rom-com hell was happening?
“Julia, this is Harper,” Bob added.
“Harper.” She looked amused. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Julia spent the next ten minutes pretending we hadn’t crossed paths three times, and it was believable. She sat behind her parents, scowling on occasion. She definitely eye rolled our conversation around the hotel’s poor variance in complimentary sun cream. She sipped her cocktail elegantly via two straws, adding the odd um and ah whenever Bob so boastfully referred to her in conversation.
“Am I in some sort of disturbing rom-com here? How does this keep happening?” I whispered to Sarah whilst Bob ordered more drinks.
