Best Friends & Other Liars

by Heather Balog

  I glanced at Nick, checking to see if he had heard what Vi had said. By the shell-shocked expression he wore on his face, I could tell that he did indeed hear what Vi had said.

  “Um, I...she doesn’t really want to come on the date,” I assured him. “She doesn’t even like to be out of her house past eight. There’s no way she’d want to go out now. She’s probably exhausted. Especially after drinking all day. She’s definitely not used to that.”

  Both of us turned and stared at Vi who was propelling her arms in a circle above her head and making noises akin to her being strangled.

  “She doesn’t look exhausted,” he said to me.

  “Well, you just saw her, passed out here on the bar. Trust me, there’s more of that to come.”

  Nick continued to stare. “I’m not sure about that. Looks like she got a second wind.”

  “Let’s go dancing!” she called out to me…while throwing her head back and laughing wildly.

  “Maybe you should go to bed!” I called back.

  “No way! The night is still young! I’m hanging out with you all night!” she yelled, still waving her arms around wildly. I apologized profusely to Nick. “I’m sorry. I guess we’ll have to cancel. I can’t expect you to—”

  He shook his head. “Honestly, it’s fine. She’s welcome to come along. I got reservations to the Bowmore Restaurant that overlooks the front of the ship.”

  “Oh wow, that place looked gorgeous in the brochure.”

  He nodded. “It is. And I only get one pass to eat in a guest restaurant per cruise. I have to eat all my other meals in the crew cafeteria with the rest of the peons—and it’s not nearly as good as the Bowmore.”

  I felt terrible. I didn’t want to be responsible for Nick wasting his “dining with the regular people” pass because Violet was drunk. Although, he sort of was responsible for her current state.

  “She can eat with us, Leah. It’s no big deal. It’s probably better that way.”

  I didn’t ask why it would be better, but that’s how Vi ended up coming on a date with us last night. And no, she didn’t pass out. Not soon enough, anyway. She didn’t pass out until after she puked her guts up back in the room. And that was after she nearly did a strip tease in the restaurant for some very appreciative patrons. Male, of course.

  I sigh as I gaze around the cabin. The light is brightening in the room—I know we’re approaching land. The ship is supposed to be docking in the Caribbean today. I have us booked for an excursion to the waterfall. I told Vi all about it the other day. She should be making her way back to the cabin to get ready.

  “I’m just going to get dressed and leave her alone. She’s a big girl. She can figure out how to take care of herself,” I mumble as I reach for a piece of bacon on the breakfast tray. It’s cold and tasteless.

  VIOLET

  I almost feel like a human again by the time I get back to the room. I hesitate outside the door, one hand on the knob. What if Leah is in the room? What the heck am I going to say to her? I don’t know what to say. Maybe I should give this a few more minutes—or maybe even hours to marinate—before going back to the room.

  I spin on my heel and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the opposite wall. I am a wreck—I look like a homeless person with the flu. No wonder the waiter thought I was sick. I can’t believe George even talked to me.

  Well, to be honest, he was only trying to make me feel better because he’s a nice guy...not because he wants anything more from me. He certainly doesn’t want me in that way. And I really couldn’t blame him either. I have way too much baggage—

  Wait! Where are my morals? Why am I sad that some stranger doesn’t want me? I’m a married woman! Yeah...a married woman who slept with a total stranger last night. I have no room to even talk about morals.

  I finish chastising myself internally and then march back to the door, shoving my keycard in the slot. Even if Leah is in there, I’m going to have to face her at some point in time. It will be hard to get through the next few days without talking to her, considering we are sharing a room.

  I push the door open and step into the empty room, relief spreading through my body.

  She isn’t here. Good. I can take a shower and rinse the remains of the strange bartender off of my body and—

  “Vi!” Leah pops out of the bathroom, scaring the ever-living daylights out of me. I clutch my chest, panting heavily.

  “Oh my goodness! You scared me! What the heck, Leah?”

  “Sorry,” she says sheepishly, stepping out of the bathroom, a white fluffy towel wrapped around her body. “I was looking for you!”

  “Yeah, it looks that way,” I reply, poking my head into the steamy bathroom. “Did you expect to find me hidden in the toilet?”

  “Why not?” Leah says with a smirk. “That’s pretty much where I found you all night last night.”

  I cringe at the mention of last night and sink down onto the bed.

  “How do you feel?” Leah asks, tucking her towel underneath her body and joining me on the edge of the bed.

  How do I feel? Like absolute dog poop! Sleeping with a married man might not be a big deal to Leah, but as a married woman, I take my vows seriously. Impending divorce or not. How does she think I feel?

  “I feel horrible, Leah. How can you even ask me how I feel?”

  “Excuse me,” Leah mutters, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “Pardon me for being concerned about your well-being.”

  “Oh, like you were concerned with my well-being last night?”

  Leah shoots me an icy glare. “I was concerned with your well-being last night. I made sure you were okay and stayed with you the whole time. And this is the thanks I get.” She stands and pulls her bikini bottom on. Dropping her towel, she reaches for her top.

  “You stayed with me?” I am incredulous and trying to ignore her as she struggles with her bathing suit top. “Do you realize how twisted that sounds?”

  “Well, what did you want me to do? Leave you alone?”

  “Why did you let me do it to begin with?” My blood is boiling. How can she not see how screwed up last night was?

  “I had no choice, really, I tried to keep it away from you, but you were just grabbing everything that wasn’t yours. I literally slapped your hand away at one point in time, but you just took it and went to town.”

  My face flames. I am mortified. Could I really have been that crass?

  “And shouting. Geez, you wouldn’t stop yelling. Everyone in the restaurant was staring. It was really embarrassing. I tried to get you to stop, but you were just grabbing one after another. Even from the guy at the next table. That is, after you tried to take off his toupee. And did that strip tease.”

  “Oh. My. God,” I moan, flopping back on the bed. “It wasn’t just the bartender?”

  “What? No, it was everyone around us, Vi. They asked us to leave at the restaurant. Nick was so embarrassed.”

  “Nick? The guy you had a date with last night?”

  “Well, if you call babysitting your drunk ass a date,” Leah says. “I’m surprised he wants to see me again after the way you carried on last night. “

  “What are you talking about? I didn’t even meet the guy.”

  Leah cocks her eyebrow at me. “You most certainly did. And I know you met him because you sat at his bar for hours yesterday.”

  I feel exactly like I did that time I got hit in the stomach with a soccer ball. All the air rushes from my lungs. “What?” I manage to squeak out with the little air that I have left. “What did you say?” I stand up and try to step over to Leah but I am too weak to walk.

  “Which part?” Leah asks.

  “The part about….the bar…and the guy…”

  “I said I’m surprised he still wants to see me ever again after last night.” She turns around and hands me the tube of sunblock. “I’m gonna need you to put sunblock on my back.”

  “Why?” I squawk, dropping onto the bed. My legs are Jello; I
don’t trust them to hold me up right now.

  “Because I don’t want my back burnt?”

  “Not the sunblock!” I croak, willing myself to breathe correctly. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Breathe, Vi, breathe!

  Leah scrunches up her mouth—she always does this when she’s confused and wants to make it look like she’s thinking really hard. She looks like she’s trying to solve a challenging Wheel of Fortune puzzle. I have to buy her a vowel.

  “That was Nick? Nick’s the bartender? I thought his name started with D?”

  “What? Why would you think his name started with D?”

  “It said so on his name tag! At the bar! I thought his name started with D! I didn’t know he was the Nick you were talking about!”

  “Ooookay, well I think his real name is Dominick, so he goes by Nick—”

  Oh. My. God. I cannot believe the bartender I spilled my guts out to, and the guy Leah had a date with, are one and the same! Oh my God! I slept with Leah’s date? What is wrong with me? What’s wrong with him? And she wants to see him again? What is wrong with her?

  “How could you even want to talk to him? After last night? After what he did to me?”

  “What?” Leah’s eyebrows arch up toward her hairline. “What did he do to you?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know! How could you let him...take advantage of me when I was drunk? I thought I knew you, Leah. I really did.” Tears trickle down my face and I attempt to brush them off, but then I realize I don’t care if Leah sees me crying. I start to sob, almost gasping for breath. Leah’s eyes widen—she looks appalled.

  Good. I hope she sees how upset I am. Maybe sleeping with random guys isn’t a big deal to her, but it’s huge for me. It’s something that I never in a million years would have done sober, and it’s all her fault.

  “Vi, he didn’t take advantage of you.”

  I scowl. “Oh, so you’re saying that I threw myself at him?” Then I recall Leah saying I was grabbing things that didn’t belong to me. “Oh my God, did I grab his you know what?”

  “Oh my God, no!” Leah shouts at me, horror-stricken. “Why would you even think that?”

  “You said I grabbed things that didn’t belong to me so I figured…”

  “You figured grabbing my date’s package made sense?” Leah shook her head. “Do you have a fever? Did you hit your head? You were grabbing his drink. And my drink. And the drinks of everyone around us.”

  “What?” Now I am truly horrified. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I wouldn’t let you drink anymore after I found you at the bar. Don’t you remember anything from yesterday?”

  Snippets of the evening are coming back to me—I recall bits and pieces of the scene in the restaurant, but it’s like a film all cut up and pieced back in the wrong order. Me drinking and dancing and...oh my Lord, I did try to remove that guy’s toupee. But other than...it’s not making any sense.

  “Not really,” I moan. “I just remember waking up and finding that guy—Nick—coming out of the bathroom...oh Leah, how could you let me sleep with him?” I am so utterly mortified that I cover my face with my hands as I speak. I can’t even look at Leah right now.

  That is, until I hear her laughing hysterically. My hands drop in my lap. How could she possibly think this is funny?

  “How can you laugh at me?” I ask, voice cracking. Great, now I’m going to start crying again.

  “You didn’t sleep with him, Vi.”

  “There’s no way that anything you say is going to make this…wait, what?”

  Did she just say what I think she said?

  Leah shakes her head. “You didn’t sleep with him. I don’t know where you got the idea that you did.”

  “But...he was in our room this morning. When I woke up. And he was in the shower. And I was only in a T-shirt. And...and…” I stammer.

  She continues to shake her head at me. “He was helping me take care of you last night. You were seriously drunk and out of it. And you threw up on him. In his hair somehow. That’s why he was taking a shower this morning. I’ve never seen you that bad—ever. I doubt either of us slept at all. I was so worried you’d choke to death on your own vomit.”

  Oh. Relief floods my body, releasing those backed up tears. But this time, they’re tears of joy. As embarrassing as the night sounded, I’m so glad...no, beyond relieved, that I didn’t make some huge, irreversible mistake.

  “I can’t believe that you would think that I would let your drunk ass sleep with some guy when I know that’s not something that you would ever do. Let alone, let you sleep with my date!” Leah’s lip quivers, sending a dagger through my heart.

  I can’t believe I would think such a thing either! I’m a horrible friend! Leah’s never done anything horrible to me before! Why would I think she would start doing horrible things to me now? Well, she did lie about this cruise—

  “I’m so sorry, Leah,” I say, trying to sound as contrite as possible. What a terrible friend I am—my best friend takes me on a cruise, and I’ve been nothing but ungrateful and vicious toward her the whole time. I’m not only the worst mother and the worst wife, I’m the worst friend imaginable.

  I burst out in tears (for the second time during this very brief conversation) causing Leah to lean over and rub my back. She’s rubbing in circles, and it’s reminding me of the way I rub the kids’ backs when they’re sick and puking all over the place, not getting any of their vomit in the toilet. For some reason, thinking of the kids makes me cry harder and subsequently cause Leah to rub my back harder.

  “I’m so, so sorry,” I tell her again.

  “It’s okay. You’ve had your fair share of holding my hair back over the years.”

  “No! Not about that! I’m sorry I accused you of letting me…” I can’t even finish the sentence. I suddenly realize how ridiculous the whole idea was.

  What a moron I am.

  “Shhh, it’s fine,” she reassures me, still rubbing tiny circles on my back.

  “Thanks,” I reply, tears seeping into my mouth from the sides of my lips. I taste the salty tears as I open my mouth. “I know you wouldn’t let me do something that stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Well, you were thinking you woke up with a hot guy in your room,” Leah replies with a laugh. “I don’t think that happens to you very often.”

  “That’s mean.” I wipe the tears with the sleeve of my hoodie.

  “Besides, did you really think he’d want to sleep with drunk old, puking you when he could have all this?” Leah gestures to her bikini clad body with a raise of her eyebrows, causing me to laugh even harder.

  “No, Leah, never.”

  “Exactly. Now stop moping and take off that hideous getup. Put your bathing suit on. We’re going to the waterfall when the boat docks this afternoon.”

  “Oh geez, Leah. I don’t think I can handle leaving the ship today. I think I should just stay here. Or maybe go to the pool. I don’t want—”

  “Violet Anderson,” Leah interrupts. “We are docking in the Caribbean. We are going to get off this boat and go exploring waterfalls and caves and beaches and stuff.”

  “I don’t really want to—”

  She shoves my bathing suit at me. “Put this on and then you need to put sunblock on my back.”

  I sigh and run my fingers through my hair.

  “I need to shower.”

  “Make in snappy,” Leah says, glancing at the clock. “We’re docking in an hour.”

  “I’ll need some—”

  “Ibuprofen?” she says, holding out the bottle.

  “How did you know?” I ask, twisting the top off the bottle.

  She laughs. “Let’s just say I had a hunch. Your head can’t be feeling so great after the night you had.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me,” I groan after swallowing the pills dry. “I’m never drinking again.”

  For some reason, this sends Leah into a fit of giggles. “Oh b
oy, Vi. If I had a dollar for every time you said that—”

  “I’m serious this time!” I insist, stepping into the bathroom. “I thought I made a huge mistake last night! I can’t let anything like that ever happen!”

  “Vi.” Leah plants her hands on her hips. “I would never let you make a mistake like that.”

  “Well,” I reply with a shrug. “You did let me marry Richard.” I laugh and dart into the bathroom before she can throw a flip-flop at my head.

  LEAH

  The brilliant sun assaults our eyes as we step off the boat, causing us to squint like mole people. Violet shields her face with her left arm, the right arm weighed down with her tote of beach necessities.

  “Holy cow, it’s hot,” Vi mumbles as we blindly follow the people in front of us toward the passport queue. We enter a small shack-like building that is sweltering, despite the portable fans blowing in every corner. There is an agent inspecting passports and stamping them. I’m very excited to get my passport stamped. It’s empty so far, and I’ve had it for five years already.

  “We’re in the Caribbean. What did you expect?” I ask, pulling Vi’s passport out of her bag.

  “I don’t think I can take this heat today,” she complains, stopping and turning back toward the plank extended from the ship. “I think I should go back to the room and lie down for a bit.”

  “No way.” I grab the arm that’s shielding her face and drag her along.

  “What if I get sick?” she wails.

  “Throw up in the water.”

  “Ewww, Leah, that’s disgusting.” Vi makes a retching face to demonstrate her displeasure in my choice of words. I hand over our passports to the agent and she barely looks at them as she stamps. I thank her when she returns them, and we step outside the building, once again, into the blinding sunlight.

  “Oh my god,” Vi gasps, clutching her sarong.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask, concerned that she is going to make good on her promise to throw up.

  “It’s so beautiful, Leah!” She points to the ocean shimmering in front of us. The dock we are on opens up to a larger dock—to the left is the beach. To the right, the dock leads to a small town; ramshackle huts interspersed with shops and vendors set up on the sidewalk. It’s a strange and breathtaking scene all at once. “Wow.”