taxing, so going back to the
good old days took some thinking--it felt like a brick wall was
between her and her recollections. But finally the memory of the
orange concoction came back to her.
“You made it after
the Omega Pi party, beginning of senior year.”
“And every time we
got blitzed after that, which was a lot.”
Susan shook her head,
wrinkling her nose. “Yeah, and I remember it tastes freaking
awful.”
“Awful or not, it
works like a charm.”
Susan conceded that.
Even though it looked like swill from the bottom of a dumpster,
smelled like burnt rubber and tasted like vomit, the stuff worked.
Now Susan just had to weigh all that was bad about it against
having the hangover from hell all day.
Her mouth went cotton
ball dry just at the thought of chugging the nasty mess. But the
wind outside picked up, and the wind chimes gained volume.
“Give me that.” She
snatched the cold glass out of Kevin’s hand and brought it to her
lips. But she inhaled through her nose and the burnt rubber smell
she remembered had a musky gym socks scent too. She held the glass
out away from her and shook her head. “How did you make it smell
worse?”
Kevin guffawed. “It
doesn’t. It’s just that island paradises smell so good, everything
else smells worse in comparison.”
Susan looked at him
doubtfully.
“Here,” he said,
scooting closer. “I’ll hold your nose for you while you drink
it.”
“You gonna hold my
hair for me when I puke it back up?”
“Very funny. Now
remember it works best if you guzzle the whole thing at once.”
Susan just wanted to
kick him in the teeth. “That wouldn’t be because it tastes like
shit, would it?”
Kevin grabbed hold of
her nose and pushed the glass to Susan’s lips. “Everyone’s a
goddamn critic.”
As the chilly liquid
flowed down her throat she had to admit, without the smell it
tasted like generic cough syrup. Generic cough syrup with chunks of
cherries and olives in it, and laced with tequila.
Susan coughed as the
last of the nasty stuff went down, and as Kevin let go of her nose,
she reached for a tissue and gave her nose a swift, very quiet
blow.
“What the hell was
that?” Kevin said, sitting back from her, his expression confused,
as if he couldn’t recognize her.
“What was what?”
“You just blew your
nose like a blond sorority pledge. What happened to the angry
tuba?”
He would have to
remember something stupid and horribly embarrassing like that.
Susan had always had a loud sneeze, often likened to a shotgun
blast. And when she blew her nose it always sounded like a very
loud, angry tuba. She hadn’t given it much thought in high school,
and little more in college. But once out in the professional world
and social situations, people stared at her like she was a circus
freak when she cleared her sinuses. She had consciously toned it
down. Toned down so far that now she made no sound at all.
“Angry tuba went
bye-bye,” Susan said.
Kevin threw back his
head and laughed, pulling her to him with his strong, muscular arm.
“I guess that would put a damper on any dating situation.”
The orange sludge
calmed her stomach, and her mind quieted. “Mark looked at me like I
was an elephant the one time I accidentally did it in front of
him.” She swallowed as she remembered the horrified look on his
handsome face. “Said it was tacky. He runs off with a cocktail
waitress and I’m tacky!” She stiffened. At the thought of him
judging her, and then standing her up on their wedding day, her
hangover was quickly being replaced by pure, hot anger.
“He doesn’t deserve
the tuba,” Kevin said, kissing her lightly on the top of her head.
“He doesn’t deserve you either.”
Susan laughed, but it
sounded wheezy and choked. She dropped her head down on Kevin’s
t-shirt clad chest and listened to his heartbeat. Strong and
steady. But when she wrapped her arms around his torso she could
swear that steady heartbeat lurched and started to
good old days took some thinking--it felt like a brick wall was
between her and her recollections. But finally the memory of the
orange concoction came back to her.
“You made it after
the Omega Pi party, beginning of senior year.”
“And every time we
got blitzed after that, which was a lot.”
Susan shook her head,
wrinkling her nose. “Yeah, and I remember it tastes freaking
awful.”
“Awful or not, it
works like a charm.”
Susan conceded that.
Even though it looked like swill from the bottom of a dumpster,
smelled like burnt rubber and tasted like vomit, the stuff worked.
Now Susan just had to weigh all that was bad about it against
having the hangover from hell all day.
Her mouth went cotton
ball dry just at the thought of chugging the nasty mess. But the
wind outside picked up, and the wind chimes gained volume.
“Give me that.” She
snatched the cold glass out of Kevin’s hand and brought it to her
lips. But she inhaled through her nose and the burnt rubber smell
she remembered had a musky gym socks scent too. She held the glass
out away from her and shook her head. “How did you make it smell
worse?”
Kevin guffawed. “It
doesn’t. It’s just that island paradises smell so good, everything
else smells worse in comparison.”
Susan looked at him
doubtfully.
“Here,” he said,
scooting closer. “I’ll hold your nose for you while you drink
it.”
“You gonna hold my
hair for me when I puke it back up?”
“Very funny. Now
remember it works best if you guzzle the whole thing at once.”
Susan just wanted to
kick him in the teeth. “That wouldn’t be because it tastes like
shit, would it?”
Kevin grabbed hold of
her nose and pushed the glass to Susan’s lips. “Everyone’s a
goddamn critic.”
As the chilly liquid
flowed down her throat she had to admit, without the smell it
tasted like generic cough syrup. Generic cough syrup with chunks of
cherries and olives in it, and laced with tequila.
Susan coughed as the
last of the nasty stuff went down, and as Kevin let go of her nose,
she reached for a tissue and gave her nose a swift, very quiet
blow.
“What the hell was
that?” Kevin said, sitting back from her, his expression confused,
as if he couldn’t recognize her.
“What was what?”
“You just blew your
nose like a blond sorority pledge. What happened to the angry
tuba?”
He would have to
remember something stupid and horribly embarrassing like that.
Susan had always had a loud sneeze, often likened to a shotgun
blast. And when she blew her nose it always sounded like a very
loud, angry tuba. She hadn’t given it much thought in high school,
and little more in college. But once out in the professional world
and social situations, people stared at her like she was a circus
freak when she cleared her sinuses. She had consciously toned it
down. Toned down so far that now she made no sound at all.
“Angry tuba went
bye-bye,” Susan said.
Kevin threw back his
head and laughed, pulling her to him with his strong, muscular arm.
“I guess that would put a damper on any dating situation.”
The orange sludge
calmed her stomach, and her mind quieted. “Mark looked at me like I
was an elephant the one time I accidentally did it in front of
him.” She swallowed as she remembered the horrified look on his
handsome face. “Said it was tacky. He runs off with a cocktail
waitress and I’m tacky!” She stiffened. At the thought of him
judging her, and then standing her up on their wedding day, her
hangover was quickly being replaced by pure, hot anger.
“He doesn’t deserve
the tuba,” Kevin said, kissing her lightly on the top of her head.
“He doesn’t deserve you either.”
Susan laughed, but it
sounded wheezy and choked. She dropped her head down on Kevin’s
t-shirt clad chest and listened to his heartbeat. Strong and
steady. But when she wrapped her arms around his torso she could
swear that steady heartbeat lurched and started to
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