We each mutter, “Sorry,” as I peek inside the bathroom. “Oh, wow.”
“The wallpaper really adds a nice psychedelic touch.”
“It’s definitely trippy.” Once again, the brown-orange theme is carried through in the bathroom. What was once a white sink is now beige with age and grime. The toilet seat lid is one of those shell numbers. The plain white plastic shower curtain has several holes in it. I peek my head in, noting the rust stains around the faucets and the very grey tint to the tub. “I think it’s probably a good idea to treat this like the gym and shower with your flip-flops on.”
“I would one hundred percent agree with that statement. I also think air-drying is recommended over using one of those towels.” Lawson’s finger appears in my peripheral vision and I follow it to the brown towels folded neatly on the vanity.
“Probably a good idea.”
“Should we tackle the sheets before we brave the shower?”
“Sure.”
We strip the bed down to the mattress pad and immediately wish we hadn’t. I don’t even want to know what the mattress looks like based on the vast number of unidentifiable stains. We debate the merits of sleeping on the floor, which had originally been a joke, and decide it’s probably the safer of the two options.
Before I open the gift box containing her sheets and comforter, I open Cosy’s old travel backpack. “Holy shit, Lawson! We just hit the mother lode!”
I start pulling out items. It’s one of those huge backpacks that can hold an insane amount of stuff, including a two-person pop-up tent and a double-sized air mattress with pump and inflatable pillows. There are also some granola bars, but they’ve been expired for about two years, so unfortunately they get tossed.
Twenty minutes later, the tent is set up, the air mattress inflated, and I’ve unwrapped my sister’s birthday present. I’m sure she’ll forgive me for giving it to her used once I provide her with the photographic evidence of our less than appealing accommodations. An actual campground probably would’ve been a better option, but we’re here now, and at least we won’t have to deal with bears and woodland creatures visiting us in the night—hopefully.
I tear through the plastic and pull out the sheet set first. Lawson and I crawl back inside the tent so we can put them on the air mattress. We took turns stepping on the pump to inflate it.
He frowns as he takes one end of the fitted sheet, leaning in closer to inspect the design. “What’s going on here?”
“They’re Kama Sutra sheets.” I grin. Prior to meeting her husband, my sister was a virgin. A twenty-two-year-old virgin who also happened to work at an adult toy store. Yes, there’s a lot of irony in that.
Lawson barks out a laugh. “Holy fuck, they sure are. Where’d you get these? I want a set.”
“I found them online.” I also bought myself a set because they’re hilarious and maybe one day I’ll find my own soulmate who will want to work his way through every single position featured on these ridiculous sheets.
While we make the bed, I tell Lawson the story of how Cosy and Griffin met and eventually fell in love, despite the odds being stacked against them. He’d drawn the short straw for a bachelor party and ended up at the store where Cosy worked. She helped him check all the things off on his list, including a double-headed dildo. He’d been mortified and she’d had way more fun than was reasonable dealing with his embarrassment.
He’d come back a few weeks later to ask her out on a date. At first she’d said no, but eventually she caved, and the rest is history.
By the time we’re done making the bed, I’m flushed, and not because of the exertion. Looking at endless sex positions while inside a tent with a hot guy reminds me exactly how long it’s been since I’ve had actual sex.
“So.” I prop my fists on my hips. “Based on the state of this room, I’m guessing the pool is probably not something we want to swim in unless we’d like to end up with an extra limb growing out of our foreheads.”
“While extra limbs might be useful, I’m inclined to skip the pool.” Lawson pulls the elastic free and his hair tumbles down, reaching his shoulders in the kind of loose, beachy waves women spend hours at a salon to achieve.
I’m still wearing a baseball cap and have been all day. I’m sure I have the worst case of hat head and my hair is extra greasy because I didn’t bother washing it this morning, thinking I’d be relaxing in a Jacuzzi tub by evening.
“So showers and then check out that pub?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Lawson thumbs over his shoulder. “Ladies first, of course.”