7

The cocktail they planned to have at the American Hotel had been followed by a bottle of champagne, and now they were on another round of drinks. Two hours of alcohol, and the only thing they had eaten were raw oysters and clams.

“You guys, can I admit something?” May asked.

“Ooh, yes, I love it,” Lauren said. “What is it? You’re having a torrid affair with the hottest faculty member? A final fling before the wedding? We want all your secrets.”

“First of all, hot law professor is an oxymoron. And no, nothing nearly that exciting. I just have to confess that every time I look up and see that dumb rental car, it’s like it’s gloating at us. I wish there was an open sunroof or something. I’d dump all these oyster shells in there.”

“Oh, you’re not alone,” Lauren said. “I don’t know why I got so mad, but I really did almost lose it on them. Thank the baby Jesus you talked us down, Kelsey. The last thing we need is someone who looks like me yelling at some cute little white couple. My ass could land in a Long Island jail.”

“I know exactly why it made you so mad,” May said, leaning forward as a customer at the next table slid behind her to leave. “Because they knew we were waiting. And they didn’t care. Because something is broken in people now. Rules don’t matter. Basic decency doesn’t matter. And it’s not just that they did it. They were proud of it. They loved getting away with it. It’s like there’s no such thing as shame anymore. So it’s not just about a parking spot. It’s the whole fucking society.” She realized that Kelsey and Lauren were sharing an amused look. “What? I’m serious. People are objectively horrible now.”

Kelsey laughed first, but Lauren laughed louder. “And you’re so drunk now,” Lauren said.

“It’s not funny. You’re the one who said you didn’t understand why it got you so mad. And I just explained it. And I’m totally right. Like, the-world-needs-to-pay-attention level of right.”

“Oh, we didn’t say you weren’t right,” Lauren said, shaking two big drops of Tabasco sauce onto an oyster. “It’s still extremely entertaining though.”

“They have to come back to their car eventually. I’m tempted to say something when they do.” She leaned forward again, this time for the busser who was clearing the recently vacated neighboring table.

“Maybe you should write down everything you want to say to them instead,” Kelsey suggested. “It might help to get it off your chest. At least that’s what my therapist says. Or also, maybe it would just be really funny to have a pissed-off cocktail-napkin rant from Drunk Riled-Up May as a vacation memento.”

“Yes, that sounds a hundred percent accurate,” Lauren said, pulling a pen from her purse and resting it on a bar napkin. “I’m totally here for it.”

With both sets of their eyes on her, May figured she may as well do as instructed and began writing as quickly as she could.

Hi. We were waiting patiently for this parking spot. We did not honk at or rush the person who was leaving, because we are not mean and rude. You saw us waiting yet took the spot anyway. That was extremely unkind, especially at a time when people have been through a lot and need a little more kindness. I hope in the future you will choose to be more considerate.

The napkin was almost full, so she wrote “over” at the bottom before turning to the back for more room.

Also, we could have recorded you and posted the video, but decided to be kind instead.

Her friends barely suppressed their amusement as they read the note shoulder-to-shoulder in silence.

“Don’t you think that last part would scare them?” May said. “Make them realize how obnoxious they were and how we could have posted their faces on the internet?”

“I think they would make some kind of Boomer joke and throw it in the garbage,” Lauren said.

“Yeah, that tracks,” May said. “But down on the sidewalk because they’re the types that don’t give a flying fuck.”

While a group of women paused next to the hotel porch for a group selfie, Lauren began scrawling on a new napkin. She finished quickly. “Now that’s how you do payback.”

He’s cheating.

He always does.

May turned and stared at Lauren, her mouth open in a shocked smile. “Oh my god, you just thought of that?”

Lauren shrugged. “What can I say? That’s just where my brain went. It doesn’t make me a bad person.”

“No, but it might make you a sociopath,” May said.

Kelsey laughed so hard that May thought she might spit her Manhattan from her nose. “A hilarious sociopath,” Kelsey added, once she caught her breath.

“Can you even imagine how delicious it would be if they came back to their car and found that?” May said. As she giddily imagined the scene, she realized that the drinks were getting to her. “Like, how could he even begin to explain it away? Some stranger just made that up and left it on a random rental car?”

“Well, they certainly wouldn’t be strolling all around, hands all over each other like a couple of newlyweds,” Lauren said.

May thought she heard a twinge of jealousy in Lauren’s voice. To May’s knowledge, Lauren’s only long-term relationship had been with the man who had landed her in the public-scandal hopper: Thomas Welliver, the Dallas oilman who co-owned Wildwood with his wife.

When Lauren moved to California to pursue her dream of composing film scores, May assumed whatever had been going on between her and Welliver had ended. In the years that passed, May would occasionally ask if Lauren was seeing anyone, and the answer was always no. Too focused on her career, she said. Too hard to find a man who would love her for the right reasons. Too independent to live her life around another person at this point. Too accustomed to living alone. In short, not interested.

It was only after Welliver’s involvement in Lauren’s appointment to the Houston Symphony became public that it was apparent the connection between the two of them extended well beyond that final camp summer. May had no idea what if any role Welliver played in Lauren’s life today, but she suspected that Lauren did not know the feeling of strolling down the street, happy and carefree, hand in hand with someone she loved.

Kelsey pulled her phone from her purse and snapped a photo of the two notes. “And I’m keeping these,” she said, carefully slipping the flattened napkins into the side pocket of her bag. “Maybe I’ll even make a little scrapbook or something.”

“I have to admit,” May said, “that was pretty therapeutic. My desire to key their car has passed.”

“Excellent,” Lauren said. “So no one’s getting arrested today. Now what should we do?” She rubbed her palms together in anticipation.

“Find a place with more booze,” Kelsey said. “And food. We really need to eat some food.” She reached into her bag to apply a fresh coat of lip gloss.

“There’s an independent bookstore I wanted to check out,” May said. “And a donut shop that’s supposed to be really good.” She began looking up locations on her phone.

“Yes to books,” Kelsey said, “and a triple yes to donuts.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lauren said. “And May and I already talked about it. We are getting this bill.”

“No, that’s crazy. I’m the one who picked the place,” Kelsey said.

“Which is fabulous, by the way,” Lauren said, signaling to the passing waitress. “And we can go Dutch for dinner.”

“Fine, you win.”

May placed her phone in the middle of the table to share the map on her screen as she and Lauren handed their credit cards to the server. “Oh, this is perfect. The bookstore is at the end of this street by the water, and then the donut place is at the corner, right by our car.”

“I have to pee so bad,” Kelsey said, lowering her voice. “You guys go ahead to the bookstore and I’ll catch up to you.”