“Wow, some storm, huh,” she said to Ursa as she tossed her bag on the lawn chair.
“Apparently, the wind blew some bottles over in their little bar, so they don’t have vodka for my screwdriver. How cruel is the wind.” One long leg was tented up and swaying from side to side as Ursa watched the bar over the top of her glasses. “They’ve gone to get more,” she told Rainy.
The thought of more alcohol made her stomach turn over, but Rainy nodded, pulling her cover-up over her head and tossing it on the chair. She sat down with her sunscreen in her hand, eyeing the twentysomething carefully. Last night, Mac had been tight-lipped for most of the cab ride back to the hotel. She’d reached across the seat to squeeze Rainy’s hand once, which made Rainy feel like she was apologizing for something. Ursa, on the other hand, didn’t apologize for anything, and had the type of blunt honesty that was shocking at times. If Ursa was in the mood, she’d tell Rainy what she wanted to know.
“I saw Braithe as I was headed over. She was outside the lobby doors, talking on the phone. She looked upset.”
Ursa’s leg stopped swaying and Rainy could see her blinking rapidly behind her oversize sunglasses. When Ursa didn’t say anything, Rainy swung her legs to the ground and stared her down.
“Is something going on, Ursa? Because I am getting really weird vibes from you guys.” She must have sounded as desperate as she felt, because something broke in Ursa’s face. Her lips pinched together, making a tight little rosebud, and she blew air out of her nose. She took off her glasses and set them on the small table between their chairs, where a bottle of Tylenol stood sentinel. Rainy wanted two of those little pills, but she didn’t want to interrupt what was about to happen. When they were knee to knee, Ursa tilted her head, pushing her lips into a frown.
“You’re right, things have gotten weird.” She tied her hair in a ponytail, avoiding eye contact with Rainy. “They planned that whole thing last night, Tara and Braithe. I don’t know why, but they wanted you to sit down with that psychic and they asked for our help getting you there. I feel really bad, I’m sorry.”
Rainy was momentarily speechless; the confirmation that something weird was going on the night before felt like a victory. You’re not crazy.
“Why?”
Ursa shrugged. “I think they’re jealous, honestly. Not everything is what it seems with those two. All I know is that after this trip I am taking a Tiger Mountain break.” She slung her legs back up on the chair and put her sunglasses on.
That was about as much as she was going to get from the woman, who was facing the sun with determination. She feels bad for telling me. Resuming her position on the deck chair, she turned her head casually toward Ursa.
“One more thing…”
Ursa didn’t face her, but she nodded.
“Did you ever meet any of Grant’s other girlfriends?”
This time she smiled. “I only met one of them. Tara had a barbecue at her house one summer and Grant brought her with.”
“What was she like?” She felt like the shittiest human in the world asking Ursa when she could have asked Grant, who would have gladly told her.
“Not like you.” Ursa glanced at Rainy, looking wary, like she thought Rainy might be offended.
Rainy chewed her lip, wishing she’d get on with it. She didn’t need to be coddled; she needed to know what was going on.
“Anyway, everyone was really drunk by the end of the night and Marchessa—that was her name—got into an argument with Braithe, and then all hell broke loose.”
“What type of hell?” she asked. A server appeared with Ursa’s drink. She set it down next to Ursa and looked expectantly at Rainy.
“Same, thanks,” she said. I guess I am drinking again, she thought wryly.
“Put it on my tab.” Ursa waved over her first sip. “So, anyway,” she said as soon as the server was out of earshot, “I was pretty new back then and have never revisited this with them, but Braithe and Marchessa were in the kitchen and all of a sudden Tara comes hurtling out the back door, still holding a tray of hot dog buns, and runs up to Grant to tell him they’re fighting.” She paused to sip her drink and check her phone simultaneously. “Sorry, just have to answer this.”
Rainy waited while Ursa texted. Her drink arrived and she was so thirsty she drank the whole thing before the server left. “Another,” she said. “And two waters.”
“Hair of the dog, get it, girl.” Ursa tossed her phone on the towel at her feet and stretched languidly. “I still to this day do not know what started the fight, but I do know that Grant had to pull Marchessa off Braithe, and then Stephen came running and they were screaming cunty things at each other. After that weekend I heard Marchessa and Grant broke up, and then we didn’t hear much from him until he started seeing you.”