Page 82 of Pity Present
“Really?” A contortionist? I knew such people existed, but I’ve never met one before. “What do you do with that?”
He proudly tells me, “I work with a troupe. We hire ourselves out and perform at various functions.”
I can’t imagine what those would be, so I ask him, “Like the circus?”
“We’ve worked at the circus. We also do parties and conventions. Pretty much any place a singer would perform.”
An image of Charlie opening for Hozier pops into my head, and I release a loud bark of laughter. I immediately feel bad and try to pawn it off as enthusiasm. “That’s really cool, man!”
He doesn’t seem convinced, but luckily the other team we’re playing comes over. I know a couple of them from previous discussions. Emberly, a tall Black woman who looks like that 1980s super model Iman, announces, “Let’s get going, I have a massage in two hours.”
Please, God, do not let this last two full hours. I won’t make it.
Charlie walks over to the table holding our box of clues and immediately takes one. The other team takes offense, and Emberly, their apparent leader, announces, “You don’t just get to go first. We need to toss a coin or something.”
Charlie puts the clue back before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a quarter. “Do you want to toss or call?” he asks her.
“You toss, I’ll call,” she says. When the coin is in the air, Emberly calls out, “Heads!” then switches that to, “I mean tails!”
When the coin lands, Charlie flips it over and gives the other team a death glare before saying, “It’s heads. We go first.” Then he walks over to the box and takes a clue. No one in our group contests the fact that Charlie will act first.
It turns out Maya is a vigorous charades player whose plan for success is to yell out as many guesses as she can before Charlie even starts. “Saved by the Bell! Elton John! The Taj Mahal!”
I lean over and tell her, “Charlie is showing us that it’s a book.”
“The Brothers Karamazov!The Shining!Icebreakers!” Oh. My. God. The good news is there’s no way I’m going to have to sufferthrough a meal with Ronald and Olivia because there’s no way we’re going to win.
True to my prediction, nearlythreehours later, we are declared the fourth-place team and I’m finally put out of my misery. I leave the ballroom sure that I will never play this game again. Ever. Even if someone offered me a million dollars to do so.
By the time I get back to my room, I only have a few minutes to get ready for tonight’s dinner and have to hurry with my shower. I change into a pair of black dress slacks that I pair with a light-weight turquoise cashmere sweater. Then I walk out the door.
I know I was supposed to meet Molly downstairs, but if she’s in her room, there’s no reason we shouldn’t walk down together. After all, we’re going to be the official second couple of the event and couples show up together.
I knock on her door and wait for a solid two minutes before knocking again. “Molly,” I finally call out. Nothing. She must have already gone down, so I head toward the elevator on my own.
I feel happier than I’ve felt in a very long time—even though I’ve spent my afternoon playing a game that now rivals waterboarding in its level of appeal to me. By the time I walk back into the ballroom, I’m practically giddy with excitement. I’ve missed Molly more than I thought possible.
Before I can find her though, Trina approaches me. “Did you have fun this afternoon?”
“Not in the slightest,” I tell her somewhat testily.
“Well, Molly wasn’t there …”
“No, she wasn’t.”
“And you must have missed her enormously, especially since you two are the first couple of the event.”
“We’re thefirstcouple? What about Ronald and Olivia?” I start to panic that my reward for making it through this afternoon alive is spending more time with these people. And even though that’swhy I’m here, I’d planned on taking the evening off to enjoy some time with Molly.
Trina tells me, “I haven’t seen Ronald or Olivia in a couple of days. I’m starting to wonder if they’ve left the lodge.”
My whole body cringes as I ask, “So, it’s me and Molly?”
Slapping me on the back, she says, “You got it!”
“Do we have to sit at a special table, or can I sit anywhere?”
She points. “Front table by the microphone.”
