Blogger Girl (29 page)

Bridget jabbed me with her elbow. “Shh. Don’t make me laugh.”

“Welcome to the spa, girls,” the woman said. She could have been Megan Fox’s identical twin but I couldn’t see past the outfit and stifled a giggle as she handed us each a locker key. “When you walk through those doors, you’ll see rows of lockers to your left. To the right is where you can get your uniforms. You are required to wear the uniforms at all times that you are not in the pool or baths.

I jabbed Bridget in her side and whispered, “Uniform?” Where were my robe and slippers?

“You guys ready? I’m so excited to go in the sauna!” Caroline said.

“Ready when you are!” I said, only slightly less excited at the prospect of my ‘uniform.’

Upon entrance into the main room, I immediately stopped in my tracks at the sight before me. “Wow.” The room was jam packed with women, all wearing the same heinous outfit as the lady at the front desk, which I presumed was the “uniform” to which she was referring. Many of the ladies were changing by the rows of lockers to our left and others were strewn around the room talking amongst themselves in loud but muffled voices, but they were all dressed the same. It looked more like a rec room in a women’s prison than a spa. I looked to my right where we were told to pick up our uniforms. Shelves were stacked high with neatly folded sets of bright pink and orange striped shirts and matching orange pants. “Wow,” I repeated, unable to form other words.

Caroline, Bridget and I slowly walked over to the shelves and requested a uniform and I could tell immediately that even the extra small was going to swim on me. I wondered who they used as the model when they sized the uniforms, maybe an extra small sumo wrestler.

Afterward, we stood in a small circle looking at each other until Bridget broke the silence. “Okay, so the uniforms would probably win worst outfit by Joan Rivers on
The Fashion Police.
Doesn’t mean the baths won’t feel fantastic.”

I smiled at Bridget, impressed by her optimistic spirit. “True.”

“Besides, we only have to wear them when we’re not in the pool or baths which means we’ll barely have to wear them at all,” Caroline said.

I decided it was my turn to suit up and say something uplifting. “And everyone is wearing the same ugly clothes and so it’s not like we’ll stand out when we do have to wear them,” I said. And at least Nicholas wasn’t there to see me in it.
Not that he takes much notice of my attire these days.

“True, true,” Caroline said, nodding. Glancing over at the rows of lockers, she said, “So…should we?”

I shrugged. “What have we got to lose?”

“Where to first?” Caroline asked after we put on our bathing suits.

“Let’s check out the hot tubs.” Bridget said.

A few minutes later, I stepped into one of the heated baths and sat back in the water as the jets surrounded me with bubbles. I leaned my head against the side of the bath and closed my eyes.

“Very nice.” I heard Bridget say.

“Too bad there are so many kids though.” Caroline said.

I opened my eyes and noted the baths next to us, crammed with children. “As long as they stay in that bath and don’t bother us, I’ll be fine. I just want some peace and quiet.” I felt the pressure of the jets pound against my back and neck.

“So glad the day wasn’t a total loss,” Caroline said, laughing. “Those uniforms had me worried. This outing was my idea.”

Reassuringly, Bridget said, “And it was a great idea, Caroline. Uniform Schmuniform. No biggie.” Closing her eyes, she added, “It’s all good now.”

I closed my eyes again, letting the heat of the water remove the tension from my body.

“So what’s new with everyone?” Bridget asked.

“Work, work and more work. Although I did meet a guy on the PATH train last week. I think he might be a bit old for me, mid-forties, but he was really cute,” Caroline said.

“Sounds promising,” I said, opening my eyes.

Caroline laughed. “Maybe I should consider dating a
much
older man to get my dad back for marrying a woman almost half his age.”

Giggling, I said, “Sounds like a brilliant plan,”

From her end of the tub, Caroline kicked one of her long legs toward Bridget. “How are things going with Jonathan? Kim told me you guys started dating!”

Her face radiating happiness, Bridget said, “Things are going well!” before ducking her head in the water. When she lifted her head, she gave me a guilty look and said, “But my bases of comparison are so stale at this point, the competition isn’t exactly fierce.”

Shaking my head, I said, “Don’t let Bridget’s nonchalant attitude sway you, she’s got it
baaaad
!”

Splashing her hands in the water, Bridget smiled softly. “I kind of do.” Looking at me apologetically again, she said, “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize to me! I’m happy for you.” And despite my own misery, I truly was, although I did my best not to think about Jonathan and Bridget getting it on. I did, however, wonder if he was more energetic with Bridget than he was with me. Someday I’d ask what he was like in the sack with her. Someday being a date in the very far-off future. “At least one of us has a man.” Looking at Caroline, I said, “Maybe two of you soon!”

Frowning at me, Caroline said, “What’s going on with Nicholas?”

“Ladies?”

Thankful for the well-timed interruption, I lifted my face toward the heavy-set older woman who was looking down at us from the floor. Of course, she was wearing the uniform.

“Yes?” I said.

“You’re wearing bathing suits,” she said, pointing at us.

No shit Sherlock.
“What’s the problem?” I asked.

“There are no bathing suits allowed in the baths,” the woman responded.

Thoroughly confused since the lady at the front desk had said we only had to wear the uniforms when we
weren’t
in the water, I said, “Huh?” When I felt Bridget kick me under the water, I turned to her. “What?”

Gesturing with her head to the neighboring baths, Bridget said out of the side of her mouth, “Everyone’s naked.”

I looked to my left and right and sure enough, all of the other adult bathers were sans bathing suit. Turning to face the woman, I said, “Is it okay if we wear our suits? I’m just not comfortable being naked in public.”

Shaking her head, she said, “Against the rules.”

Just then I felt a blast of hot water slap me in the face as a kid from one of the other baths ran by. Grinding my teeth, I said as nicely as I could, “So it’s not against the rules to have children under the age of ten run around splashing everyone - in bathing suits, I might add.” I gestured toward the neighboring tub which was filled with children and continued, “But it’s against the rules for a grown woman to wear a bathing suit?”

The woman nodded. “Yes. These are the rules.”

“Whatever!” Bridget said, removing her bathing suit top and swinging it around her head. “I’m naked now. Happy?”

Caroline stepped out of the bath. “I’m not getting naked.”

“What about you, K?” Bridget asked.

I contemplated. While I would have reveled at the chance to skinny dip or soak naked with Nicholas in a hot tub, going commando surrounded by all of Brooklyn and their children was the opposite of sexy. I climbed out of the bath. “No thanks.”

Slipping her bathing suit back on under the water, Bridget said, “Fine. Let’s get out of here.”

As I grabbed a towel from a pile in the corner, I heard a scream from behind me. Instinctively turning around to see what happened, I found myself facing a very large, very naked and very big busted woman pointing her finger at me, screaming in a language I didn’t understand and pointing at my towel.

I glanced at the towel and back at the woman, trying not to notice her boobs hanging down to her knees or her ‘70s style ungroomed vagina. “What?” I yelled back.

She continued to scream at me and point at the towel.

“What!” I shouted back. “Did I steal your towel?”

More screaming.

With my hands on my hips, I stared her down as she continued to yell at me in some Eastern European language. “I have no idea what you’re saying!” Giving her the finger, I threw the towel back on the floor and ran back to the lockers as Caroline and Bridget laughed hysterically behind me.

***

Forty-five minutes later, we were back in Manhattan. We were still laughing as we sat outside drinking beer and eating mussels at the Crow’s Nest, the bar on the upper level deck of The Water Club on the East River. “Oh my God, what the hell was
that
about?” Caroline said.

“No clue,” I said. “Maybe I stole her towel? But since she wasn’t speaking English, how was I to know?”

“Did you see the rack on her?” Bridget said, her face matching the color of her hair as she tried to stifle her laughter. “Someone should have worn a sports bra when she was younger and maybe her boobs wouldn’t hang so low now!”

“It was hard to notice her boobs with that ‘70s bush! Her husband must need a weedwacker!” I shivered at the visual.

“I thought I was gonna lose it when you gave her the finger!” Caroline said.

I dropped my chin to my face as a rush of guilt at my immature behavior swept through me. “I felt bad but I had no idea what else to do.” Giggling, I said, “That place is a zoo!”

Raising her glass, Bridget said, “To the Palace Spa.”

“To the Palace Spa,” Caroline and I repeated, clinking our glasses together.

“Never again,” we said in unison.

I took a sip from my chilled pint of beer. Smacking my lips together, I said, “Tasty!”

“True, that!” Bridget said, taking a sip of her beer.

“So what were we discussing before we were so rudely interrupted by the Hot Tub Nazi?” I bit my lip as I recalled the topic of our prior conversation.

Caroline raised an eyebrow. “I had asked about the status of the Nicholas situation.”

I took another sip of beer hoping to drown my feelings for Nicholas in alcohol. “The situation is that he is leaving the firm next week and will probably fall in love with someone smarter, prettier and nicer at his new job. And taller,” I added.

“He still likes you, Kimmie. I’m positive about that,” Bridget said assuredly.

Feeling a knot in my stomach, I said, “Please don’t use that name. It reminds me of him. Everything reminds me of him. Even the song playing on the radio right now!” Playing in the background was
Love Shack
by The B-52s, Nicholas’ very first rock concert.

“Why don’t you talk to him again?” Bridget asked.

“I wouldn’t know what to say. I feel like we had closure when I went to his office and told him about my book. He congratulated me and turned back to his computer. He’s walked passed my desk many times since and although he no longer acts like I’m not in the room, he hasn’t initiated conversation either. Over and out!” He hadn’t even mentioned whether he liked my book, which I assumed meant he either hadn’t started reading it yet or he thought it sucked. I wasn’t sure which I preferred. If he hadn’t even started reading, it meant he was completely over me, but if he thought it sucked, it meant he thought it sucked. I frowned into the bowl of empty mussel shells.

“There has to be something else you can do.” Bridget said.

“Well if you think of something, let me know.” I swallowed another mussel and studied Caroline who was staring down at the table, seemingly lost in thought. “Caroline? Yoohoo!”

Caroline looked up, her eyes wide. “Oh, sorry. I was just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Bridget asked.

Caroline’s cheeks flushed. “This is going to sound silly, but I was thinking…” She paused.

“Thinking about what?” Bridget repeated.

“Who knows more about chick lit than almost anyone?” Caroline asked.

“Sophia Kinsella?” I guessed.

Caroline shook her head and smiled. “Nope.”

“Who?” I asked.

“You!” she said, pointing at me.

Laughing, I said, “I’m flattered you think so. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“What do most chick lit books have in common?” she asked.

Raising her hand, Bridget said, “I know! I know! Designer shoes, lots of cocktails and dating stories from hell.”

Immediately defensive, I said, “Not all of them! Hmm, what about humor? Female main character?”

Nodding, Caroline said, “Yes, but what else?”

I thought about the last few books I had read for my blog, including
Cut on the Bias
. Looking questioningly at Caroline, I said, “Happy endings?”

“Bingo!” Caroline said.

“I rule!” I took a bow while Bridget clapped her hands. “But what’s your point?”

“Okay, this is where the silliness comes in, so bear with me,” Caroline said.

Bridget and I looked at her expectantly.

“If someone, say Sophie Kinsella, was writing the chick lit book of Kimberly Long, do you honestly think she’d end it this way?”

“What way?” I asked.

“You and your girlfriends eating mussels after a comical day at a so-called ‘spa’ lamenting your broken heart.” Caroline said.

“Hey! I resemble that comment!” Bridget said, giggling.

Waving Bridget away, Caroline adopted a serious expression. “Seriously, Kim. Is this how you want things to end with Nicholas?”

I shook my head, wanting nothing more than to feel Nicholas’ arms around me again. And I missed his other parts too. “No.”

“So fight for him!” she said.

Feeling my face burn, I said, “How?”

“I don’t know how exactly.” Caroline frowned. “But what if Rachel never told Dex to cancel his wedding to Darcy in
Something Borrowed
? Or Bridget Jones didn’t chase Mark Darcy to his parents’ Christmas Party and tell him not to move to the United States? Would those books have been as good if the girls hadn’t fought for their men?”

Shaking my head, I said, “No way.”

“Exactly!” Caroline said. “If Kimberly Long was the heroine of a chick lit book, don’t you think she would pull out all of the stops with some grand gesture or something?”