“Andrea, you have no idea. It’s one of the best hotels in Vegas. And Lucas has booked out the top floor rooms for all of us. You’ll have your own space, an incredible view, access to room service—which will bring you drinks—and a jet tub you can sprawl out in that overlooks the strip of Vegas.”
“Drinks will be brought to me? I’m in,” I said, grinning.
“Great. Now, we need to go get you packed. Come on.”
Seeing how excited Jessica was about this trip made me excited about it. I didn’t know how I felt about running around Vegas for a long weekend but seeing her happy was nice. I hadn’t seen her light up like this since her parents left for Oregon. I knew she was lonely, and maybe this was the start of her finding her own family in Charleston she could rely on.
But she was right.
I did need a vacation.
I phoned in a favor from one of the volunteer daycare women. I needed her to hold down the fort for the Thursday and Friday that I’d be gone. She was more than happy to do it and I talked her through some of the special activities going on that weekend, and she even offered to open the place up for temporary hours on Sunday in case the kids needed somewhere to go after church services were done. I thanked her profusely and worked it into my own budget to pay her a little something once I got back home. Then, I started packing.
“So, what's the plan for Vegas? A lot of going out and drinking?” I asked.
“Well, I know you don’t really like that scene, so you don’t have to. But, it might help you find someone to spend your time with.”
“Ah, bringing a boy back to my own room. I feel so grown up.”
She laughed. “You should, I mean you never do that. Not since the bad scary ex, right?”
She had a point. “Yeah I guess. I mean most girls get over that kind of thing with time, but I was never really shown how. My mother died when I was sixteen and my father—well, you know that story.”
“Yep. Your father’s a piece of shit that deserves to die in a fire.”
“Anyway,” I said, giggling, “I’ll go out with you one night. One night of guaranteed fun, since I know you’re going to want to go out that first night we’re there.”
“Oh, I really will. It’s been months since I’ve had a genuine night out like this. It’s going to be great. Can I help you pick out your outfits?”
“I figured you’d do that without asking,” I said.
Jessica and I started for my apartment and the second we stepped in, she raided my closet. She tossed clothes onto my bed and started kicking out shoes. My most uncomfortable shoes, actually. Hangers spilled to the floor as I sat in a chair in the corner, watching her practically destroy my room.
“Oh, this one has to go with us. This one brings out your eyes.”
“Those shoes will match this outfit and this one.”
“Oh! This will be comfortable and cute for the plane ride over. Or back. Whichever suits you.”
“Do you have any nice underwear? Maybe a lacy bra? If we get you lucky, you need to be ready.”
“I’m not getting lucky,” I said.
“Just humor me. You're getting lucky.”
“Okay, Jessica. I’m addressing this now.”
She stopped her movements and turned to me as she drowned in the clothes she had poured onto my floor.
“I’m not getting lucky. I’m not sleeping with anyone, I’m not finding myself a man, and I’m not getting married.”
She threw her head back and laughed before she tossed me a dress.
“Definitely pack that one. Red is so your color,” she said.
“I’m serious. Don’t get me all drunk then play one of those pranks where you marry me off to a homeless man with three teeth,” I said.
“While that would be a great spectacle, the point of this trip isn’t to piss you off,” she said, giggling.