Sketchtasy by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore

Author:Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arsenal Pulp Press
Published: 2018-12-07T16:00:00+00:00

DREAMING BIG

The worst part about flying is always the landing, that’s what rips my ears apart and then it feels like my head is filled with steel wool and we’re driving through the Everglades, is this really the Everglades? I can’t believe how ugly everything looks. But then we get to the hotel and it’s a gorgeous renovated art deco building—Nate says it’s from the 1920s, I didn’t realize Florida was already a tourist destination then.

Should we go to the beach? I guess that’s why we’re here, but first we stop at some weird health food store where I get fresh carrot juice and a bunch of premade wraps to put in the refrigerator. I can’t believe how hot it is, but I guess that’s why Nate wanted to come here—it’s barely even fall, but it’s already getting cold in Boston, which is fine with me but Nate realized he hadn’t been out in the sun all summer because he was working so much. He asked me to go on this trip so many times that I finally said yes—I hate the heat but I do like the beach, and I never made it to P-town.

I need to get a bathing suit so we stop somewhere and Nate keeps pulling out the Speedos so I decide I’ll humor him and try on a pair, the square-cut kind that aren’t so ridiculous, and Nate’s got that skeezy old guy look in his eyes. The rest of the bathing suits are either tiny thongs or huge baggy surfer shorts so I go with the Speedos. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to run into anyone I know. I ask Nate to buy me some wacky Astroturf sandals because I need something other than combat boots in this heat—why didn’t I think of that before? At first he tells me these sandals are too expensive—I should just get regular flip-flops because will I ever wear them again, and I feel like I’m arguing with my father. But then Nate takes the sandals to the register and we go back to the hotel to change.

The beach is so large it looks fake, but as soon as I pull off my sandals to walk in the sand I feel like a little kid—maybe Nate was right, and I do need a vacation. He reaches over for my hand and I make sure no one’s looking. We go to a restaurant on some pedestrian-only street that I guess is trying to look like Europe, angel hair pasta and a salad is all I can eat though the pasta with broccoli and pesto is delicious, and of course the cocktails help. Cocktails help with everything. Nate reaches over for my hand again, and I’m trying not to pull back.

When we get back to the hotel, Nate lies down on the carpet because he says that helps with his back pain, but I guess not enough because then he takes some pills and gets in bed. Four nights left.

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