I rejoined the land of the living yesterday to more than a little ribbing. It doesn’t pay to show any weakness around these vultures. If they smell blood in the water, they will pounce in a New York minute. You know what you’re signing up for when you join this group. I’d be disappointed with anything less.
Since I hadn’t eaten in over 24 hours, I remarked longingly that I was craving a big juicy BLT sandwich. You’d have as much luck finding Sasquache as a BLT in the islands. The next thing I knew, Gina had whipped some up. I swear I don’t know how she does that. I should have asked for creme brûlée while I was at it.
Our last day was spent with one last trip down to Pusser’s for Painkillers…except for me. I had ice tea. We also spent time in the pool. Gina is the only person I know who does water aerobics while drinking a vodka cran. Now that’s a woman who knows how to multi-task. I am bringing this heretofore unknown possibility to the attention of my instructor when our neighborhood classes start in June.
We also had our last meal out on the veranda at sunset. It was the quietest I’d ever seen our group. I remarked that all ten of us must have finally run out of things to say. Joe said, “Actually, I was just thinking about how lucky I am to be in this beautiful place among such great friends.” A perfect benediction for a wonderful trip. Amen!
Scarlott Letters 