Blended TML Ch 36

Everything is OK.

Mary’s had a margarita and some shrimp; the French fry portions are small enough not to make her feel guilty, and Piper’s doing a great job keeping her from brooding.

“I need to look in their kitschy gift shop,” Piper announces, grabbing her purse. “Be right back.”

Mary takes a sip of her second margarita and nods. She doesn’t know what Piper could possibly want from a gift shop, but she’s living in the moment. The vibes in this place are nice, the food is good enough, and there’s a drink in her hand. Apparently, she’s not going back to Gurlberg tomorrow. That thought isn’t joyous and relaxing, but it also isn’t unwelcome. A break from Patty and the girls isn’t necessarily the worst thing.

She watches Piper go. The outfit is attention-grabbing because it stands out against the bright, summery colors all around. Plenty of women wear swimsuits, but half a dozen guys still turn to look as Piper passes.

At least there’s one thing that Mary’s not midlife-crisising about: that. There was a time when that was her, that time is past, and she doesn’t mind. The need for affirmation and constant male attention is something that she’s genuinely outgrown. The crisis now isn’t about what other people think. Other people are not the problem.

A disbelieving voice brings her out of those thoughts.

“Mary Jameson?”

Mary clears her throat and lowers her margarita, turning in her seat.

The woman before her is a vision of curated detail. Her spectacularly bleached blonde hair is curled to perfection and arranged around her shoulders with cover shoot precision. She has some natural looks, although there’s a pouting, almost bitchy quality to them—although that might just be the look on her face. She wears a red bikini with a gorgeous blue patterned wrap on the lower half, and Valentino wedges that make Mary’s heart skip.

Mary looks at her blankly. “Um, yeah?”

The woman looks her up and down and snorts. Her hand rests on her hip, nails glittering. Her tan is too consistent to be legit, and Mary isn’t convinced those boobs are real, although that might be first impression vibes biasing her a little. “It’s me, Mary.” The woman laughs and rolls her eyes. “High school?”

Mary frowns, then squints. Her contacts suddenly don’t want to behave. She blinks a few times and looks her over again. “Oh, man. Tiffany?”

“If you didn’t recognize me, I was going to lose it.”

“Oh my gosh. Hi. How are you?”

“Uh,” Tiffany’s smile broadens; her eyes keep going up and down Mary. “Pretty good. I guess I can see how you’re doing.”

Mary looks down at her outfit. Sitting here by herself, this isn’t a whimsical twins outfit with her stepdaughter; this is a woman in profound denial of the implacable ravages of time.

“I mean, you look great,” Tiffany lies. “What are you up to these days?”

“Still in Gurlberg.”

Tiffany’s expression becomes pitying. “Oh.”

Flustered, Mary swallows. “I, uh, have a little law practice.”

Now she looks skeptical. “Well,” she says, cutting Mary off before she can go on. “It’s great to see you. I hope you enjoy my place.” She sweeps an arm vaguely at the resort. “And your drinks are on me.” Tiffany waves, flashes her dazzling smile, gives Mary one last unhurried, contemptuous look, then glides away.