Shimmy Bang Sparkle(70)
“What!” I said as I rubbernecked with my finger following the sign. “You missed it!”
Nick lifted his sunglasses, glanced at me for a second, and put them back down on his nose. At no point did he even hint at slowing down.
In the gap between our captain’s chairs, Priscilla switched gears and gave her stuffed conversation heart a death shake so violent that the seam popped open and a tuft of foamy stuffing popped out. She dropped the heart and made some mouth adjustments, as if to say, Oh my gosh, what is happening in my mouth?
I picked her up and pulled the stuffing from between her lips. I leaned to the right and looked in my side-view mirror. Perched on the bluffs, the hotel looked like a big old-fashioned hacienda, every room with a balcony overlooking the ocean.
“Want me to play Twenty Questions, or are you going to tell me?” I leaned over and gave his leg a squeeze. He grabbed my hand and squeezed right back.
“The Ritz might have hot-rock massages and a Jacuzzi in every room, but you want to know what they don’t have?”
I dropped a few wet threads of stuffing on the floor mats. “Ummm . . . reasonably priced vending machines?”
“RV parking.”
Of course. It was just the sort of thing that Ruth would have accounted for well ahead of time. I’d have realized it eventually, surely, but possibly not before I clipped the top of the entry overhang, sending Spanish tiles skittering off the roof while the valets watched with their hands pressed to their faces like in The Scream.
Just a few miles down the road, he slowed and signaled right, pulling down a newly paved road and past a sign that said SAN CLEMENTE STATE BEACH.
He pulled into the parking area, leaned in to give me a kiss, and then jogged over to the check-in. Through the window, I watched him talking to a woman behind the desk. The lady handed him a clipboard and he signed it, handing it back to her and laughing at something she said. There was joy in that laugh, and I felt it in my heart. I clutched Priscilla to me closely and thought of the advice that Mr. Bozeman had once given me. Find someone who makes you want to saddle up and ride off into the sunset. Find someone who makes you so happy you could just about cry.
Spinning the rings on my finger, I was overcome with the fullness in my chest. This had not been part of the plan, but it was happening. And suddenly, as he jogged back toward me, I felt a sting in my nose, and a sheen of tears welled up in my eyes.
We Ubered from the campsite to the Ritz, and the driver didn’t seem the least bit puzzled to see the two of us with our rolling luggage and a dog in a bag standing on the side of the road. He was seriously, and I mean seriously, engrossed in a conversation in a language I’d never heard before, which he bellowed into his headphones wire, holding it in front of his mouth like people do who are a little bit unclear about how microphones work.
In the back seat, I sat on the passenger side, and Nick sat behind the driver. Priscilla sat between us in her bag, gnawing on her frog again now that I’d made an executive decision to let her stuffed heart stay with the Love Boat. Nick looked remarkably upstanding in a crisp linen shirt I’d picked out for him, along with a pair of khaki shorts and flip-flops. He looked like he could be going yachting. I envisioned mimosas and windswept hair and whole nights spent below decks doing all sorts of . . .
Clearing my throat, I forced myself back to earth. Or shore. I was getting well and truly ahead of myself, and I knew it. North Star first. Mimosas on yachts second.
Along the PCH we cruised. Everything looked like a centerfold spread from a travel magazine; it felt like someone else’s life. But it wasn’t. It was mine. Ours, just for this little slice of time. I reached over Priscilla and gripped Nick’s hand, and he ran his thumb over the inside of my palm. It was as if time both slowed down and sped up when I was with him, and within just a few moments of endless gazes, we had arrived at the Ritz. The doorman opened my door, offering his hand to help me out, as well as a hand with Priscilla.
Nick tipped both the Uber driver and the bellboy in cash, then turned to me, pulling me close. He ran his thumb down my cheek and leaned in for a kiss. For an instant, the whole lobby went still and silent. With a single look, he could make the world fall away.
When he let me go, the noise of the world went back to full volume. “You ready?”
I took a deep breath and looked up at him. “Ready.”
He led me by the hand over to the concierge. A skinny and stylish young guy stood behind the desk and said, “Welcome to the Ritz. What name please?”
“Mike McNamara,” Nick said, and handed over his fake ID.
“Mine says Rutherford, but only until I get to the DMV,” I added, and handed over mine.
“Ooh, honeymooners! My favorite,” the concierge cooed, all his vowels long and exaggerated, Valley Girl with a delightful twist. He entered our not-names into the touch screen embedded in the wooden desk. He leaned in closer, conspiratorial almost. “Honeymooners are always in a good mood, see. They’re the best sort of guests. And look at you!” he said, reaching out a perfectly groomed finger for Priscilla to lick like a lollipop. “Aren’t you a cutie!”
Yes, yes, yes, hello! Hi! You’re very nice too! Very nice! Priscilla wiggled and squirmed, trampling her frog tragically under her hind feet as she struggled to get to this new and delightful stranger who knew just how to talk to her. Every day is the best day ever! Priscilla clacked her teeth with some happy bites of the air as she tried desperately to get a better grip on his finger for a loving nibble.