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Rakell noticed how the light bouncing off the pool made Melissa’s eyes glitter. "Well, I won’t be contacting him. I think you can see we’re having a girls' day…which means free of men, unless they are particularly well-built and bringing us tequila.” She tilted her head, her eyes fixed on the man before her.
Rakell’s gaze darted away uncomfortably, trying not to look at Carlos’ face, but she heard him say, “Well, thank you. You are particularly attractive as well.”
Rakell shifted her focus back to them, watching as his eyes skittered toward Melissa’s left hand. A small smile lifted his lips when he saw her ring-free finger, something Rakell hadn’t noticed until that second. Melissa’s chest reddened, her cheeks blushing as he said he’d return with more drinks.
Melissa’s hand shot to her mouth. “I’m so embarrassed. I hadn’t meant to be so direct or forward. So sorry, you probably think…” She shook her head.
Rakell leaned forward, tapping Melissa’s knee. "Hey, I think you’re having fun—he’s super-hot and you’re attractive, so naturally there’s a spark. I guess that’s what they call it. I’m definitely not the person to give any advice, but I did notice you’re not wearing your ring.”
Melissa moved her hand to the side. “Well, I feel like a fool wearing it since I am fairly confident Tom has been seeing someone in Dallas. The sad thing is that Tom hasn’t even noticed I’m not wearing it.” Her face dropped, and she suddenly looked forlorn, as if glimpsing a snapshot of the past that she would never get back. She lifted her hand and said, “There was a time, for years actually, that he would get irritated if I took my rings off to wash my hands, or go to the lake, or ride horses, and then forgot to put them back on. He was demonstrative about it, professing that he wanted everyone to know I was his, always, like…” Her voice trailed off, her eyes flickering as if she were going back in time.
“How did you meet?” flew out of Rakell’s mouth. She was trying to ask something innocuous, but even as the words were forming in the air, she realized that question must be loaded with so many splinters of emotion that Melissa was probably trying to avoid today.
Melissa said, “I need more shots for questions like that…”
“Sorry,” Rakell whispered, wishing she could stuff the words back in. “I’m not really good with personal conversations, and in discussions like this, I usually avoid asking anything…because I don’t like people to ask me…so anyway, sorry.”
Melissa let out a soft chuckle. “Well, that’s one social strategy. I want to answer, but let’s do these shots…ready?” They sucked their limes, looked at one another, then tilted their heads slightly to slug back the tequila. Slamming them down on the table between the chaise lounges, they giggled.
“Sooo, how did I meet Tom?” She ran her hands down her thighs to her knees. “I met him when I’d attended my best friend’s debutante ball in Dallas, his sister actually. From that night on, he had sort of whisked me into a whole new life. I thought he was perfect.” She put her hand up, shook her head, then went on. “I had been enthralled by the idea of a debutante ball, but my parents scoffed at the type of organizations that put them on. I was jealous of her and her influential family in Dallas, but grateful I could live in their periphery. Don’t get me wrong, my family has done well, but they do not run in the circles of some of the old money in Dallas—actually, Texas in general. Anyway, I went, and I remember I was wearing this stunning gold gown. My mom had taken me shopping and agreed to buy it. She’d known I had always wished I could be a debutante. My friend, I think you may have met her in passing at the Super Bowl party, is Analee Herrington. She has straight coal-black hair that is always perfectly styled and a super perky nose…one she wasn’t born with, mind you…” Melissa grinned, her pointer finger pushing her nose up.
Rakell rolled her eyes. “As you can imagine, that’s common in my industry. After a few more shots, I can tell you the list of cosmetic alterations suggested to me so far. But wait, she’s your sister-in-law and best friend?” Rakell asked, her eyes widening, remembering something Jake had said about Tom’s family owning one of the most powerful law practices in Texas, with offices in Dallas, Austin, Houston, and Lubbock.
“Yes, Analee and I became friends my freshman year at UT. I’d met Analee’s parents and seen pictures of the hailed big brother, but I didn’t meet him until her debutante ball. I was a sophomore at UT, and he was in law school. Unfortunately, the title of best friend is in question as of late,” Mellissa added tartly.
“Oh sorry, that’s…”
Finishing Rakell’s sentence, she clipped, “That’s how the Herringtons operate,” reaching for a bottle of water, twisting off the top, then gulping at least half of it. “On that note, I want to say this…I know Jake is madly in love with you, and I’ve never seen him like this before—and I know the future is unpredictable—but the Skylers are not the Herringtons. Meaning, our family became close to a woman Jenae dated for four years, Sheila, and she and I still meet up in Houston even though that relationship ended years ago. She was already an attorney when Jenae was at Rice. She was good to my sister, and she’s delightful. Jenae knows we are still friends. Hell, she even sees Jenae and Winnie when she goes to New York. As far as Jake’s girlfriends, if I ended up disowning everyone he’s walked away from, that would negate a third of the population in Texas.” Her hand went to her mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like…”
Rakell couldn’t resist a snort of laughter. “Oh, my God, please. I’m well aware of ‘Pretty Boy’ Skyler’s fan club. Believe me, they chime in on Instagram regularly on how he can and has done better.”
“Ignore them, please. I will unfriend anyone who does that to you. One thing I am learning from this time in my life, between the strain of my marriage and just trying to navigate life as a parent, well, I should say a parent of a child with autism…especially in my friend circle…I’m starting to see who my friends really are. When life gets rough, mean girls prey, that’s all I will say. I’m learning that I don’t want them in my life, and I don’t want to be one of them. I don’t think I ever was, not intentionally, but I definitely ran in that crowd. I didn’t stand up for other women when my friends…” she said, making air quotes with her fingers, then added, “when they said things about other friend's bodies, their houses, or parenting styles…or when they looked down on someone getting divorced, I usually just smiled quietly. I didn’t necessarily join in, but I sure as hell didn’t stand up for the one being berated. The ironic thing about how life works is that it circles back. When you don’t stand up for others, someday you can count on it coming back to you. Those same social vultures turn on you, and then there’s no one. The friend group withers because no one wants to stick their neck out. I’m realizing now that being a bystander to all the nastiness is essentially condoning it, and that has been a lot for me to grapple with, maybe even harder than knowing my marriage is crumbling. I didn’t want to give up my standing in the group, and I felt impenetrable because of Tom and his family...I thought no one would go after me,” she gulped, her voice faltering, “but now, I’m scared as hell for that exact reason.”
Rakell lifted her eyebrows in a questioning gesture.
“The power of Tom’s family,” Melissa stated dryly.
Suddenly, they both shifted their attention to the footsteps approaching outside the cabana.
Carlos returned, carrying a large tray with more drinks, an order of tacos, wings, and a Caesar salad.
Melissa and Rakell exchanged puzzled looks as he started putting everything on the table.
“Wait, we haven’t ordered food yet. I’m buzzed, but I would remember that.” Melissa spoke with an irritated tinge to her tone.
“Sorry, Mr. Skyler insisted and offered me tickets to the San Antonio game,” he explained, smiling sheepishly. “He also made it clear that neither of you are available.”
“Snake! He’s a snake,” Melissa scoffed. Just then, their phones rang—first Rakell’s, then Melissa’s.
In unison, they looked at each other and said, “Jake.”
Carlos stepped backward. “Let me know if you need anything else.” Then he semi-bowed before walking away.
“Let’s show my baby brother that he may not have wanted to put his credit card on the line for this day.” She pinched the shot glass between her thumb and index finger, the other hand bringing a lime to her mouth, sucking the juice, her mouth puckering, her eyes sparking at Rakell. “Go,” she said, then both downed the tequila.
The sharp liquid burned as it splashed in Rakell’s throat; she quickly followed it with a sip of margarita.
Buzzing noises and ringtones repeatedly emanated from their bags. Their eyes shifted to each other, then the sound of their phones calling for attention. They knew who it was. “I’m turning off my phone,” Melissa stated. “My kids are safe. My assistant has the business covered, and two people I thought were my best friends told me that if I stayed home with my kids, Cameron might learn to talk faster. So honestly, I need to get away today. I wish we were in a different city because I’d like to take Carlos up to one of the hotel rooms and screw his brains out.” Melissa chortled as if she were stating that this place had a great vibe.
