On the Rocks(45)

“Uh, hi there, little Abs,” he said in his thick German accent. I loved that he called me “little Abs.” It made me feel skinny. “You guys better maybe come back to your house now.”

He sounded both happy and concerned. I didn’t really care. The only reason I could find worthy of dragging myself off the beach during peak tanning hours was if the barbecue had exploded and the deck was on fire. Even then, he should be calling the fire department, not me.

“Why? I really don’t see myself packing up and driving back there right now. I’m quite comfy.”

“Well, uhh, see, I came over to borrow your headphones, and one thing led to other things, and right now there are about a dozen live lobsters crawling around your bathtub.”

Clearly, he was joking. Or his English once again had hit an idiomatic snag. “I doubt that, Wolf. What are you talking about?”

“This box came addressed to Gracie. It said to open immediately because the contents were alive. So I opened the box, since no one was here, and there were twelve lobsters in there. They look very yummy. I didn’t know what to do with them, so I put them in the bathtub, but I don’t think you girls would like that very much, so maybe someone can come back here and tell me where the lobsters should live until I boil them for dinner. I think they’d go nicely with one of my bottles of Chardonnay, no?”

I sat upright in my chair and looked quizzically at Grace, who had now removed her sunglasses to peer at me directly, and Bobby, who was still busying himself with digging a giant hole in the sand for reasons unknown.

“Who are they from?” I asked, incredulous. “Who in God’s name would send a dozen live lobsters to someone’s beach rental?”

“It says from JF. I don’t know who that is, but I like JF.”

Well, I didn’t see that coming. “We’ll be right there,” I said before hanging up. I turned to Grace. “Your deranged boyfriend sent us a box of lobsters!” I squealed. I don’t really know what I expected him to do to show Grace that he was working toward ending his marriage and legitimizing their relationship, but I wasn’t expecting shellfish. I saw a smile creep onto her face. It’s amazing what makes girls happy.

“Aww, that’s sweet!” Grace said. “Where did Wolf put them?”

“Right now there are a dozen sea cockroaches crawling around our bathtub. That’s one of the most bizarre gestures I’ve ever heard of in my life!”

“It’s nice!” she continued, defending her boyfriend.

“I think it’s fantastic!” Bobby gushed. “I’ll date this dude if he’ll send me lobsters on a regular basis.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I sighed, not wanting to deflate Grace’s happiness. “I give him points for getting creative, that’s for sure. It’s been a long time since a guy bought me presents. Maybe this is what people are doing now. Remind me to pick up a copy of In Style later,” I added.

“Again, I’ll remember this. Jewelry is out, lobsters are in. That’s a gift worth giving.” Bobby laughed.

“Umm, Abby,” Grace said as she stood and picked up her towel, “I hate to bring this up, but considering that until recently you were having a freakin’ mental love affair with your ex via laptop, that’s not all that surprising. The only thing you get from that Arizona * is an increase in your Wi-Fi bill. First, let’s find you a good guy. The presents will follow.”

“Fair point,” I admitted.

We gathered up our bags, chairs, and the cooler still full of Coronas and reluctantly trudged our way across the scorching hot sand back to the parking lot. I wasn’t happy about leaving the beach ahead of schedule, but I was even less happy to leave Wolf and a dozen lobsters unsupervised in our house. As soon as we hit the parking lot Grace pulled her phone from her bag and began dialing.

“What are you doing?” Bobby asked Grace as we made our way back to the car.

“I’m calling him to say, ‘Thank you’! I want him to know how much I appreciate the gesture.”

“If I were you, I’d wait. Call him later or even tomorrow morning. Don’t chomp at the bit right away,” Bobby suggested.

“I think it’s a little late to start playing hard to get.”

“That makes no sense to me either,” I admitted, though I was curious as to why Bobby seemed to think that calling Johnny was a bad idea.

“I’m just saying that maybe let him sweat it out a little. That’s all. You do what you want, but the last thing you want him to think is that you’re some kind of shellfish slut,” Bobby said.

“A shellfish slut?” I asked.

“Yeah. You don’t want him to think that you’ll give it up for a box of lobsters, Grace. You’ve been waiting a long time for him to do right by you. It’s cool he sent you something, but you don’t want him to think lobsters are an alternative to leaving his wife. Why don’t you try holding the cards for once? That’s all I’m saying.”

“And women are supposed to be the ones who play games?” I asked.

“Maybe I’ve been hanging out with you guys too much. I need Wolf. I’m starting to think like a chick,” he admitted as we trudged through the parking lot.

“No, you’re right! I’m no lobster lush,” Grace replied, forcefully.