by Quinn Loftis
As for the frumpy donation clothes, they came with their own emotional baggage. Samantha had purchased all those things after Derek had left her. Every piece of apparel belied her lack of self-esteem during that period of time. She’d felt worthless. She’d been convinced she had nothing to offer the world, physically, mentally, or emotionally, and her wardrobe had reflected that. She covered herself with baggy, frumpy garments from head to toe, ensuring that no one would look twice at her. Because if they did, they might see the real her. They might be able to tell, at a glance, that she was worthless, that she was damaged goods. Samantha couldn’t risk anyone finding that out.
But now, things were different. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d made it. Somehow, she’d survived. She’d survived her world being yanked out from underneath her. She’d been beaten down, not just by Derek’s betrayal but by the world itself. Other than Charity, no one had offered her a hand up when she’d been down. No one came to her rescue. No shining knight showed up to free her from the dungeon of self-doubt in which she’d been wallowing. Samantha had dragged herself out of that pit. She’d had to fight and claw and scrap and work double shifts at the coffee shop just to clothe herself and put food on her table, but somehow, she’d done it. Sam wasn’t yet ready to declare herself a ferocious Amazon woman, ready to roar at the world, but she was no longer a doormat. At least, that’s what she’d thought until Derek showed up again out of nowhere. Now, the firm foundation of esteem she’d built for herself had suddenly gotten shaky. All the old feelings of shame and self-doubt were creeping back into her mind. Samantha wasn’t remotely sure she was strong enough to wage the battle against those feelings again.
“Tran, let my girl go. She still has to pack for tomorrow,” said Jessica in a whiny voice.
“No! We close at nine. She work till nine.”
“Please,” continued Jessica. “It’s almost nine now. There’s no one here. You don’t need Samantha to stay.”
“Wrong. Someone is here. You are here. I wish you weren’t. You and blondie can go. Sad girl stay.”
“We are not going anywhere without Samantha,” offered Charity.
“Am I going to have to kiss you again, Tran?” asked Jessica.
“No! You stay back.” He whipped out a spatula and brandished it at Jessica threateningly. “You want to hang around here waiting for sad puppy to get off work so you can take her to sin city and corrupt her? Fine. But you keep your lips to yourself in Tran’s coffee shop.”
“It’s my bachelorette party. I’m the one that’s going to be corrupted,” said Charity.
“Ha. Tran know better. You two cook up scheme to cheer up washer woman. Tran see right through you. Tran no care. Tran hope she come back a new woman. Maybe then she no scare off customers with her sad face.”
“I’m right here,” growled Samantha.
“We know. You hang around like wet wash cloth. Now go get mop, washer woman. After mopping, you may leave for your trip of debauchery.”
“Fine.” Samantha growled again. She stormed into the back of the shop and returned with a bucket and a mop and began grumpily shoving the mop across the floor.
“You girls have fun in sin city,” said Tran. “Do everything Tran wouldn’t do, but watch your backs. Many unsavories there. Slit your throat and steal your kidneys.”
“We’ll be careful, Tran,” said Jessica.
“Take care of my employee. She is prickly like a porcupine, but she makes half-decent espresso. If she gets kidnapped, then I have to train new employee. Too much work.”
“Once again, I’m right here,” said Samantha.
“Don’t worry, we’ll bring your old washer woman home safely on Sunday,” said Charity with a smirk. Samantha just pulled a face and went back to her mopping.
“Okay, then, you go now. Go, go, go.” He grabbed the mop from Samantha with one hand and made a shooing motion with his other.
“Thanks, Tran. We’ll see you in a few days,” said Jessica. Samantha grabbed her purse, and the three girls filed out into the night. Just as they were crossing the street, a man stepped out of the shadow of a doorway.
Jessica held up her hand and Samantha saw a small can of mace. Jessica hissed, “I will cut you if you come any closer.”
“You’re holding mace, not a knife,” Charity muttered.
“But I may have a knife, too. The mace is just a start,” Jessica said, not taking her eyes from the figure in front of them.
He took another step forward and the light finally fell on his face.
“Henry?” Samantha said, her brow drawing down. He’d already been to the coffee shop twice that week so she was surprised to see him again.
“Hello, Samantha and Samantha’s friends,” he said in his usual calm voice.
“I’d say hello in return but you were lurking in a dark hiding spot waiting on my girl,” Charity said. “I don’t say hello to people like that. What’s the deal? Do I need to let Jessica mace you and cut you?”
Samantha’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as she looked at her best friend. Didn’t she know it was stupid to piss off crazy people?
Henry held up his hands. “I don’t mean Samantha harm. I could never hurt her.”
“Why do you call her at work and sit and stare at her when you’re in the coffee shop?” Jessica asked.
“I’m just trying to spend time with her. She’s not ready to be with me and that’s okay. But I’ve seen our future and I know she’s the one for me,” he said. He turned to Samantha and gave her a smile that didn’t seem natural, almost as if he didn’t know how. “I just want to make sure you’re okay and I want you to know that if you need anything, you can ask me.”
Samantha was pretty sure her eyes couldn’t possibly get any wider. Am I in the Twilight Zone? “Uh-huh,” she said slowly.
“Well, alright then,” Charity chirped. “Good to know you don’t mean our girl any harm. Just so you know, if you take your stalking tendencies any farther than the two days a week at the coffee shop, I will feel obligated to take action.” Charity stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. “I know people who know people … if you know what I mean.”
Henry, looking just as cool and calm as ever, said, “Are you saying you are acquainted with people who know other people that can kill me and get rid of my body?”
Samantha smacked her hand to her forehead as Jessica laughed.
Charity shook her head. “No, what the hell, dude. I don’t have mafia connections. I meant I know people who know the cops. Geeze, nobody’s talking about murdering anyone. Just don’t get any weirder than you are, okay? Good, glad we had this talk. Let’s bounce, girls.”
Samantha gave Henry a sort of half-hearted wave. She thought for a moment she should apologize for her friends, but knew Jessica might spray her with mace if she apologized to her stalker. Instead, she just turned and followed Charity to her car.
Two hours later, they sat in Charity’s kitchen eating fast food, their respective suitcases resting by the front door. Sam and Jessica had decided to stay at Charity’s so they could all sleep until the last possible moment before leaving for the airport in the morning. The flight left at 8:00 a.m. Roanoke time and, including a brief layover in Chicago, would take about seven hours total. But given the time change, they would land in Las Vegas just after lunchtime, which was great for the outbound trip because it would give them three extra hours in sin city. The return trip, however, would cause them to lose three hours and would likely be pure hell.
A happy silence settled over the women as they shoved greasy tacos into their mouths. Their phones vibrated at the same time. They all knew what that meant—another video from Jason O’Neal. Charity made a grunting noise, swallowed a large bite, and picked her phone up from the table before punching in the unlock code and pulling up the video. The other two women leaned in and watched as Charity hit play.
“Hello, America. Jason here again. Just wanted to drop a quick update to let you all know that
I’m back from Hawaii, safely back on American soil. Well, I guess I was always on American soil, but now I’m back on the mainland. You know what I mean. I’m such an idiot,” he said under his breath, shaking his head and chuckling to himself. “Anyway, I’ve just landed back in Los Angeles. I’m going to grab my luggage and catch a ride back to the RV. Then, tomorrow, I’m driving over to Las Vegas. As I told you guys before, this might be kind of a rough one for me. I’ve decided to park my RV there and stay in the same hotel casino where Bethany and I stayed a few years ago. It’s the one that looks like a pyramid. I’m sure you know which one. This might be asking for trouble, I’m not sure, but I just think it’s something I need to do. I want to do some of the same stuff we did before. Hopefully, that will bring back some good memories.
“I’m really scared about this stop, but I’m also kind of excited because I’m actually going to be doing something kind of weird, but also maybe kind of cool. I’m going to be meeting some people who’ve been watching my videos. This is not something I had even thought about when I started this trip, but this woman emailed me. She told me she and her friends watch the videos and asked if I might want to meet them when they are in town for a bachelorette party. She said one of her friends has been going through a tough time, and my videos have been helping her. I think it’s not something I would normally do, but hey, nothing about this trip is normal. I’ll post a video or two while I’m in Vegas and show you some of the stuff I’m doing. Until then, I’ll see you on the open road.”
“Oh, good. He seems to be back to his chipper self,” said Jessica nonchalantly before she shoved a burrito into her mouth.
“Definitely,” replied Charity, equally casually. “That last one he posted from his RV really had me worried. I was starting to think Brent was right about him. What do you think, Samantha?”
Jessica and Charity turned to Samantha, who was staring at Charity with daggers in her eyes. “You sneaky little bitch.”
Charity grinned sheepishly. “Who me?”
“You sneaky, sneaky little bitch,” repeated Samantha her voice rising.
“Uh, oh,” said Jessica. “Operation marble statue has been blown. Prepare for fall out.”
Samantha jumped to her feet. “You … you … you planned this whole thing?” she said pointing at Charity.
“What whole thing?” said Charity, raising her eyebrows and shrugging her shoulders.
“And you,” roared Samantha and turning on Jessica. “You were in on it.”
“Who me?” said Jessica, repeating Charity’s earlier words.
“Who … what … how … how could you do this? I can’t believe this,” stuttered Samantha.
“The how was not difficult,” replied Charity. “I just messaged Jason on his video channel page. He was happy to meet us. Once he told me when he would be in Vegas, I simply made sure that was the only weekend Jessica’s sister’s timeshare was available. Simple.”
Samantha turned to Jessica with a blank look on her face. “Timeshares can be used any time during the year, honey,” said Jessica. “We just told you it was only available this weekend so we would be sure we could meet Jason in Vegas. I hate to say it, but you weren’t that hard to fool.”
“Argh, what were you two thinking?” asked Sam. “That’s it, I’m not going. You two can go to Vegas by yourselves for all I care.”
“Nooooo,” said Charity, drawing out the word and rising to her feet, “we are all going to Vegas, and we are going to have an absolute blast doing everything Tran wouldn’t do. This doesn’t change anything.”
“This changes everything,” Samantha shrieked, feeling her dark curly hair fly outward from her head of its own accord. “I am not going all the way across the country to be fixed up with some sappy, weirdo, vagabond RV guy.”
“Whoa, whoa, slow your roll there, washer woman,” said Jessica, also rising to her feet. “No one is fixing anyone up. Everything I told you that day at the deli is still true. I am taking my two best girls to Vegas because they both need this trip. One, because it’s her last chance for a fling before she enters into the boring life of holy matrimony, and the other because she’s had a tough time lately. Nothing more.”
“Hey, Brent’s not boring,” said Charity.
“Yes, he is,” said Jessica. “He’s great. We love Brent. Very happy for you, but face it, he’s boring. The man probably schedules his bowel movements.”
“Actually…” began Charity.
“No,” said Samantha holding up her hands, “I don’t want to hear about your fiancé’s bowel movements.” She let out a pronounced sigh. “Why in the world would you do this, Charity?”
“You know damn well why I did it,” said the blonde, her voice taking on a sharp edge. “You think I can’t see the way you’ve been acting since Derek came back? You think I don’t know what it’s doing to you? Ever since he showed up on your doorstep, you’ve been an entirely different person. You were getting better. You were healing. All of a sudden, that son of a bitch shows up and six months of hard work goes right down the drain. I can see the desperation in your eyes. I know you want to see him again.”
“Well, if you aren’t trying to fix me up, what the heck does that have to do with Jason O’Neal?”
“For God’s sake, Sam, I just want you to see that not all men are useless pieces of trash like Derek.”
“I already know that,” said Sam. “Some of them are like Henry Hyena and think they have visions of the future involving their supposed wives-to-be. So, believe me, I know that all men are not pieces of trash.”
“Do you? Because I sure as hell haven’t seen you go on any dates. And don’t bring Henry into this. That dudes just lonely and he’s probably subconsciously connected with the lonely sap inside of you. But there are non-jackass, non-crazy, men out there and you won’t even give them a chance.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“No, it’s not,” offered Jessica. “A kid grows up in the projects, he becomes a crack dealer. That same kid grows up in suburbia, he becomes an accountant. Why? Because that’s all he knows. It’s all he’s ever seen. All you know is Derek. Charity has been singing this same song for who knows how long, and now I’m singing it too. It’s time for Samantha Showalter to get her ass back out into the world and see what’s out there. Does that mean you meet Jason O’Neal and fall in love with him this weekend? Of course not. But it does mean you have some fun while you’re in sin city for crying out loud. God forbid we happen to meet an incredibly sweet, thoughtful, good looking, romantic guy while we’re there. What torture!”
Samantha went silent. She knew they were right. Sam was so scared to put herself on the line because of what Derek had done to her. She couldn’t go through something like that again. And the only way to keep it from happening was to keep everyone she met at a safe distance. That was the reason Samantha spent so much time alone. That was the reason she didn’t go out, the reason she shut down any guy who happened to give her more than a passing glance. The pain she might endure simply wasn’t worth it.
“Well,” she said, nodding after a long tense silence, “I’ll go to Vegas with you. And I’ll have fun if I must. I will party with you, I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll even meet Jason O’Neal. But I’m doing this for you, Charity. Not for me. I’m fine with my life. I’m perfectly okay, and I don’t need to get out there or do anything else stupid like that.” Samantha wanted to kick her own ass for the bull she was spewing.
“Sheesh, she’s been hanging around Tran for too long,” said Jessica.
“Fine,” said Charity, ignoring Jessica’s comment and staring right at Sam. “I guess that will have to work.”
“I guess so,” said Sam, returning the stare.
“Look on the bright side,” said Jessica. “Now you can ask Jason face-to-face what he’s selling.”
“Yeah,” said Charity. “I can’t wait to tell him you called him some sappy, weirdo, vagabond RV guy.”
Chapter Thirteen
The connecting flight from Chicago to Las Vegas International Airport touched down at 1:15 p.m. local time.
“I’m starving and I have to pee,” said Samantha as she absentmindedly bounced her leg, waiting for the hordes of other passengers who’d jumped up when the plane finally came to a stop to clear out of the aisle.
“Ditto,” said Jessica from where she’d sat in the row behind Samantha and Charity. “We haven’t had anything but pretzels since we left Roanoke.”
“We had a snack in Chicago,” said Samantha.
“We did,” said Charity. “At the … uh … pretzel stand.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Sam. “I guess I’m not on my ‘A’ game right now. I’m going to blame it on the jet lag.”
“Sure, honey, whatever you need to tell yourself,” said Jessica. “But we all know it’s because you’re so excited by all the hot guys you’re about to meet in …Vegas, baby!” An explosion of squeals and giggles erupted from Charity and Jessica.
“Someone shoot me now,” said Sam, covering her face with her hands. Despite her earlier anger, Samantha realized she couldn’t be mad at her two friends for long. Before they’d even arrived at the airport in Roanoke, she had decided to forgive them and make the absolute best of the trip. For one thing, it was going to be an extremely long four days if she stayed grumpy the entire time. Second, Charity and Jessica were over-the-moon excited. Neither of them had been to Las Vegas before, and they couldn’t wait to immerse themselves in all the innocent debauchery the city had to offer. It was simply too difficult for Samantha to stay angry with two people who were so excited about something. Third, Samantha knew she owed it to her best friend to make the trip as fun as possible. Assuming Charity only got married once, which was most certainly going to be the case because if there was a divorce on the horizon, Brent would have already penciled it into both of their calendars, then this would be the only bachelorette party Charity ever had. This would be the last opportunity she and Samantha had to hang out together before Charity’s life changed forever. They would still be friends after the wedding, but life would never be the same. Samantha wasn’t going to ruin their last experience together as two single women by being a wet blanket. That was too selfish, even for her.
