Ameera, Unveiled (34 page)

“I’m ready to clean up and grab something warm for lunch,” Kelly said.

We all agreed.

“Kat, your lips are kinda blue,” Kelly said. We were dumping our gear into the tub as we left the dock.

“I get cold easily. I’ll get cleaned up and be fine,” I said.

I had the room to myself as I enjoyed a warm shower. While I was drying my hair, I heard Polly’s card slide in the lock.

“Hey, there. How was snorkeling?” she asked, heading to her side of the room. “Why’s the room warm? Is the a/c broken?”

“Snorkeling was cold and rough,” I explained, “but two Nudes put on a show for the boat with their perky flotation devices.”

“The birds kept their feathers on for Ruth,” Polly said, chuckling.

“The air’s working,” I said. “I turned it down until I got out of the shower. You can turn it up if you want.” We were tossing coin scarves and veils in dance bags when I asked, “You eating in the main dining room?”

“Yeah, I’ll grab a salad with you,” Polly answered.

As we made our way to lunch, we passed a game at the Prude volleyball court. I turned away when I realized it was being used by the Nudes. “Radd warned me that they use our side,” I stated, slowing down in disbelief.

“What’re they doing here?” Polly laughed when a short, busty woman served to her opponent. The co-ed teams volleyed, jumped, and dove in their birthday suits until the ball rolled out of bounds toward the pool. “Have we seen it all yet?”

“We’re definitely seeing lots of balls!” I said. Polly broke into laughter as we walked to lunch.

Sybil and Ruth sat at one of the large tables. I stopped to order a Diet Coke from the bar before I claimed a seat across from them. I spotted Kelly and Denise chatting while making their salads. Melody walked up carrying a burger and fries.

“How was your mangrove tour?” I asked Melody, eyeing the burger. Between sweating in the disco and shivering in the water, I could’ve used the calories.

“Nice,” Melody said. “Lots of life. The sidewalks reminded me of the Francis Biedler Forest back home.” As she said the word home, her eyes welled and she looked away, trying to wipe away a tear.

“You okay?” Sybil asked, getting up to move closer. Kelly and Denise picked up on the distress signal as they walked toward the table. They set their plates down quietly and looked at Melody, who was struggling with emotion.

Melody took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I don’t mean to act like a homesick kid at summer camp, but I took a week’s vacation to come here. My husband knew how much it meant to me to say I performed in Jamaica. But with no show set up, I feel like I took a selfish vacation. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy being with y’all, but I don’t get much time off from work or home.”

Denise moved closer and gave her a hug.

“Sweetie, I’m still working on getting a show . . . hopefully, two of them,” Sybil said. “I’m supposed to hear about dancing tomorrow night at Grand Lido.” Her voice was optimistic and soothing. “You did a great job helping teach the classes. You deserve a girly break.”

Melody’s tears lessened and she nodded. “I used to feel guilty when my kids were younger too,” she added.

“Melody, I had a meltdown—burned out, whatever you wanna call it,” I said. “An older woman from work helped me realize that my family benefitted from me taking time to be . . . well, Kat. I had to leave the titles mom, sister, wife, and secretary, and remember to let Kat play. You don’t need to feel guilty about it.”

“She’s right,” Ruth agreed.

“I’m not a mom but, hard as I work in the lab, I’ve gotta find some time to let my hair down,” Kelly said, trying to refresh Melody’s spirit. “Remember what you said about the panic attack you had during your first marriage? Your new hubby knows you need free time.”

“You’re right. Maybe it’s just PMS,” Melody said. “Aren’t we allowed to blame anything on that?” We all smiled and I saw the twinkle return in her eyes. “I just need a good laugh.”

“There’s a Nude volleyball game down at the Prude side,” Polly said. I saw the visual hit everyone in the face at the same time. Melody broke into laughter.

“Think I’ll pass,” Melody said, hugging Sybil. “I love you guys. I better get this hamburger down before we go to class.”

Everyone dove back into lunch. I went to the buffet and grabbed a hamburger and fries.

“Any word from Lara?” Sybil asked, looking around the table.

“Haven’t seen Jennifer since this morning,” Kelly said.

“We have fifteen minutes before class,” Sybil said. “I’m going to the front desk for a second. Meet you at the fitness center.”

As Sybil hurried away, Jazz stepped up to the microphone. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to our lunch spin—Mr. Best Body Motion!” he said in a pumped-up voice. Two female Hedo staff stood to the side of the stage. “I need two couples . . . married couples.”

A couple of tables stood and headed toward the pool deck. “Hey, don’t leave,” he said. “Come be one of my couples.” They smiled and shook their heads. He started looking around the room and spied a couple near the stage. “You two married?” They nodded. “Come be my first contestants.” They stood and walked to the front of the dance floor.

Jazz scanned the audience and pointed at a handsome, well-built black man. “Married?” He shook his head. “Come be my other couple. What’s your name? I’ll get you a wife.”

“Brian Jones,” he said. I could picture him in a linebacker’s uniform.

“I need a wife for my friend Brian,” Jazz pleaded. He turned toward our table and locked eyes with Melody. “Come work with Brian.”

Melody shrank and muttered, “I told you I attract weird things. I’m not going down there.” Jazz kept staring and waving to her to come.

“I’m not going,” Melody said, her lips not moving.

Kelly looked at Jazz. “I’ll do it,” she volunteered.

Jazz’s face lit up as he waved her down. He’d wasted five minutes finding contestants. As Kelly joined them, Jazz made the “husbands” turn their backs to us as he placed the “wives” in front of them. Both men were so well-built they hid any evidence of a woman standing in front of them. Kelly’s five-foot-two frame disappeared behind her “husband’s” six-foot-two, two hundred twenty-five pounds.

“Okay, here’s what I want you to do,” Jazz began. “I’ll be timing you on my stopwatch, one at a time. Marriage can get boring, and we’ll see who has the healthiest sex life. For thirty seconds, I want you to show me as many sex positions you’ve used in your love life.”

“I told you,” Melody hissed.

While we tried to pick our jaws up off the floor, Kelly’s little head slid past Brian’s big guns. Her wide eyes sent us a clear “what-the-fudge” look. She slid back and disappeared in front of her “husband’s” chest. Our table burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“I’ll let Brian and his new wife go first. Are you ready?” Jazz asked.

It looked as though Brian was talking to Kelly. I assumed they were making a game plan. Brian gave Jazz a thumbs-up.

“On your mark, get set, go!” Jazz clicked his stopwatch. Kelly lay on the floor, and Brian acted as though he were on her, staying in one position. “That’s one, move to another,” Jazz coached. Brian lay down and Kelly acted as though she were on top. “Two, move on.”

Brian and Kelly froze trying to figure out what it was they were supposed to be accomplishing. Jazz stopped his watch. “Let me demonstrate what we want you to do,” he said, motioning to one of his female staff to join him.

He put down the mic, pointed at the music man, and grabbed the Hedo staff girl. Kelly’s mouth and eyes held the same stunned expression as when she was flashed on our first day. She looked at Jazz . . . then looked at us.

“I think I’m gonna pee my pants,” I said, trying to stop laughing at Kelly’s clarified assignment. Jazz put his girl down and thanked her.

“Understand?” Jazz asked, smiling devilishly. Brian said something to Kelly and she nodded. “On your mark, get set, go!” He clicked his watch and the music started.

Kelly and Brian started on the floor switching positions. He picked her up, swinging her like a rag doll. Kelly’s hair flew behind each fling.

“Time! Twelve positions. Not bad for a newlywed couple.” Jazz turned to the next couple. While he took them through the same drill, we tried to compose ourselves after Kelly’s demonstration.

“Time! Twelve positions. It’s a tie,” Jazz announced. He leaned forward and said something to Brian and Kelly. They nodded. “Since my first volunteers have been married longer, the prize goes to Mr. and Mrs. Simpson.”

The small audience clapped as the contestants bowed. Brian gave Kelly a hug. As Kelly made her way back to us, she tried to adjust her clothes and smooth her hair.

“No more lunch spins for me!” Kelly said, straightening her hippy skirt. The table lost all composure at her disheveled look. “Melody, you owe me!”

“I needed a good laugh,” Melody said. “You couldn’t have planned this better. We’d better get to class.”

We grabbed our props and headed to the fitness center. As we approached the glass windows, we saw more than a dozen ladies chattering like students eagerly waiting for the teacher to arrive. Sybil, who’d beaten us there, was chatting and handing out her coin scarves to aggressive hands reaching for the pretty-sounding triangles. We entered through the glass doors, shrugging off our lunch-spin frivolity, and went into instructor mode. Sybil gave us a look that said,
It’s about time
!

“Need a scarf?” I asked a student who was standing behind a group of pushy students, jockeying for a coin scarf.

“Can I use the zebra one?” she asked. I held it out to her. “Thanks!” she smiled.

We pulled out our loaner scarves to satisfy the hands of ladies still waiting for decoration. The class attendance had doubled. Sybil excused herself and approached me.

“Where’s Jennifer?” she asked. Her brow was furrowed with worry.

“Haven’t seen her,” I answered. Sybil went to some of the others and got the same answer. She reached into her dance bag, grabbed a CD, and huddled with Ruth. I suspected Plan B was in the works. With all my hip scarves gone, I withdrew to the back to let the students feel closer to the teacher.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

“Ladies, let’s get going,” Sybil said. “We’re gonna play with veils today. Let’s warm up first.” She nodded to Ruth to start the music.

Within two minutes, Sybil had taken the ladies through all the modules and basic travel steps. Clothing optional was exercised in our class, but the women’s passion and spirits forced me to override judgment. I’d learned to ignore what was in my line of vision as we bent, dropped, and popped. I’d seen joy and delight in these women for the past two days and in their acknowledgment as we passed through the resort.

“Ladies, the troupe will share extra veils, and Melody will lead us through veil instruction,” Sybil said, sweeping her arm to direct attention to Melody. We shuffled through dance bags for veils to distribute among eager hands.

Melody led the ladies through hip tucks and taught them to sail the veil with random songs. Everyone had someone to work with as they got a lesson on not accommodating their veils. Thirty minutes passed, and the room was giddy with laughter.

“Okay, divide into two groups and take what you’ve learned to choreograph a one-minute veil dance using some of the tucks and sails to the song we just worked with,” Melody said. The troupe girls divided into the two groups. “Each group has ten minutes to come up with choreography.”

Sybil motioned for Denise and me to come to the side. “I’m worried about Jennifer. This isn’t like her.”

“He looked like a nice guy,” Denise said. “Do you think someone should go to the water-sport shed and ask if the jet ski’s back?”

“Good idea,” Sybil said. “I’ll go. Try to get everyone to the lobby for Lara’s arrival and, hopefully, I’ll have run Jennifer down.” She turned with a furrow in her brow.

We rejoined our groups.

“Okay, let’s stop and reveal your creations,” Ruth said.

Kelly took the helm at the CD player. “Who’s first?”

Melody and Ruth looked at each other.

“We’ll go first,” Ruth said, looking back at our group.

Melody’s group moved off to the side and sat attentively.

We lined up and made our first pose. As we ended and posed, the audience gave us a polite and full zaghareet response. We switched places on the other side of the room.

Melody’s group sailed and twirled through the same song with a totally different interpretation.

“Good job, ladies,” Melody said after everyone had finished. “Drop your veils and hip scarves at the front of the room. We’ll sort them out.”