The Next to Last Laugh

A Unitarian minister married Amanda and Freddie in the Oak Park Hotel’s little side den. Freddie’s mother, Joyce, had decorated the room with six vases of pink tea roses. White voile bunting hung from the ceiling, offsetting an antique cherry desk, which served as a kind of altar. Freddie’s brothers, Jason and Jonathan, sat with Evie, DeeDee, and Joyce. Mr. Pierson from the Unitarian church played the flute for five minutes before and afterwards. Amanda’s friend Farrah stood as bridesmaid, wearing a short flowery skirt and black strapless top. Freddie’s friend Mark (the one who’d suggested a DNA test) handed him the ring, which was a gaudy yellow color, undoubtedly involving gold.

[Click here to read the first episode, or here to read the previous one.]

After a quick seafood lunch, Mike arrived to fetch the girls. According to Evie, he had broken up with his Episcopalian girlfriend “She has another boyfriend. Will.”

Mike still attended the church and taught volunteer religion classes, but he had reverted to his laid-back style. Maybe too much so. Unshaven and disheveled, he smelled like whiskey from across the room. What was wrong with everyone? As if Amanda didn’t have enough to worry about! Before Mike squired the girls to his place, Amanda pulled him into a dark, quiet space outside the restrooms. He tugged at a remaining tuft of hair as she whispered. “Please, Michael. Leave your car here and call a cab.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Okay, you’re right.”

Mike’s taxi arrived. Amanda kissed Evie and DeeDee good-bye. She’d only be gone four days. She hugged Mike good-bye. “Promise me you won’t risk their lives.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll give the keys to Evie.”

Before she could protest—Evie was only eleven!—Freddie’s and her car and Mike’s taxi glided up and were almost instantly rolling them all away in separate directions. She’d phone Mike from the airport. Putting Evie in charge! If he wasn’t up to being a father, she’d take him to court.

Freddie had booked three days at the Caneel Bay hotel in St. John. Special rates. She worried about the girls, especially Evie “in charge of the keys,” all the way to St. Thomas and on the ferry to the resort. But well-lubricated Freddie poked her belly. “Forget about them, babe. It’s all about us now. Mr. and Mrs. Berger.”

The hotel was spectacular wherever you looked: a world of luxury. Most of the island fell under the protection of a National Preserve, allowing no motor boats or jet skis. They arrived well before sunset, with an hour left for snorkeling. Freddie kept reaching for coral or starfish, but the rules against that were harsh. Underwater, Amanda kept signaling, no!

At breakfast the next morning, he presented her with a different ring. “I know you don’t like the one Mark picked out.”

The new one was white gold with three blue topaz chips embedded in it. Freddie had stayed up all night, playing poker. “I wasn’t gonna quit till I won.”

“Thank you.” He could be gentle and sexy when he wanted. That morning he bought a flamboyant dragon kite and flew it on the beach for hours. After lunch, he disappeared for a few hours, while Amanda rested. This baby knocked her out every day at two p.m. Like clockwork, even working in a busy office. Ever since January, she would sneak out for short walks before her eyes closed and her head dropped onto her keyboard.

Freddie loved all kinds of dancing and took pride in his finesse. That was fine. Amanda saw no point in false modesty. So after dinner, they danced until midnight. The second morning, he opened a big bubble-making kit and worked on his already remarkable bubble skills. 

“My kid’s gonna love hangin’ out with his pop.”

Maybe things would work out.

Maybe not. When she woke that afternoon from her nap, a breeze blowing into the room from a balcony, Freddie was snorting something through a rolled up dollar bill.

He tossed back his curly head and sniffed. “Hey, how ya doin’? It’s after five,” he waved the money tube, grinning. “Cocktail time.” Without waiting for her response, he leaned over the glass-topped dresser and snorted another line.

“It’s just coke,” he said to calm her. “I mean, think of the other stuff or combinations of stuff it might be.”

True, but not reassuring. And here Amanda had worried that alcohol and gambling were Freddie’s weaknesses. How could she have been so stupid? But then what difference did it make? Except that the other two were legal. Within limits.

“Where did you get it, Freddie?”

Now he was smoking a blunt. “No worries, babe. Well ya see: us hotel managers have got us a union.”

(Click here to read the next episode.)

Comments

[Lily Kane]

oh no =( i figured this one wouldn't work out, but cokeheads are a special kind of crazy. and she's finding this out AFTER the wedding? ugh. not good.

[Bosco]

Amanda really knows how to pick 'em.

[Kathleen]

Maybe it's me. But don't a lot of us know and love someone like Freddie, even if we're smart enough not to marry him?

[Dan Leo]

Brilliant.

And I had another comment all ready to type in when I saw that Bosco beat me to it, word for word.