Paige’s wary glance, she said, “It’s mostly fruit juices. I’m going to make us some punch.”
“You don’t need to spend your night off babysitting me,” Paige said.
“Who said anything about babysitting? I know we haven’t had a lot of time to get to know one another, but you’re still a girlfriend and girlfriends don’t let other girlfriends have pity parties for one. So consider tonight an opportunity for me to show someone in the sisterhood how to look at the positive side of breaking up. And there is a positive side. You just can’t see it yet, but believe me, it’s there.”
Paige tried to smile, but she didn’t think that anything Stacy could say or do would dull the pain of losing Michael. All of her life she’d been a “glass is half-full” person, weathering breakups with guys better than most women she knew. But never had she expected that getting jilted could hurt so badly.
When they arrived back at the campground, Stacy insisted it was too nice out to eat indoors. She instructed Paige to build a campfire in the fire pit next to the trailer while she mixed the punch.
A short while later Paige found herself on an Adirondack chair in front of a crackling fire with a sandwich in one hand and a concoction Stacy called her “men are pigs” punch in the other. Paige wasn’t sure just what it was she was drinking. While she had been gathering wood, Stacy had been inside the trailer pouring a variety of liquids into her blender. The result had been a surprisingly delicious fruit drink that had Paige wondering if it contained much alcohol.
“You make a pretty good fire, Paige,” Stacy told her as a birch log popped and sizzled in the dancing flames. “One thing I’ve learned over the years is that there is nothing that a man can do for you that you can’t do for yourself.”
Paige really didn’t want to talk about the value of men and changed the subject. “Thank you for stopping and getting these sandwiches. I guess I was hungry after all.”
“They’re are not as good as Tony’s, but they’re not bad,” Stacy said.
Tony was the chef at the Birchwood and a good friend of Stacy’s. Paige felt a bit guilty that she’d refused Stacy’s offer to eat at the resort restaurant. “You understand why I didn’t want to go to the Birchwood, don’t you? I don’t think I could have taken one more person glancing at me with that pitiful look that says, ‘Oh, you’ve been dumped, you poor thing.’”
“If they’re looking at you with pity they’re making the assumption that you’ve lost something of value,” Stacy said in between bites of her sandwich. “You haven’t.”
“You’re right. He’s worthless. So is Chelsea.” Paige lifted her glass toward the starry sky. “To the worthless Michael Cross and his worthless bride, Chelsea.”
“Uh-uh, the toast should be to Michael and Chelsea for saving you from making the biggest mistake of your life.” Stacy raised her glass to Paige’s.
Paige took another sip and suddenly realized that there indeed was plenty of liquor in the fruit drink. She felt a warmth spread through her, tickling her insides.
“A friend of mine tried to warn me that Michael would be trouble,” she said, gazing up at the stars.
“All men are,” Stacy stated with authority.
“Tell me the truth. Was I the only one who didn’t know he was still seeing Chelsea?”
“I don’t think anyone knew for sure, but it was hard not to notice how she was always hanging around him. And they did have a history.” Stacy got up and reached for Paige’s empty glass. “You need a refill.”
“Better only make it a half.” She giggled. “I think I’m getting a little tipsy.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Stacy said, and disappeared into the trailer, only to return with another full glass.
“I know one thing,” Paige said after taking another sip. “I will not get involved with someone who works at the same place as I do. Today had to be the most humiliating day of my life. I used to think the people who worked at the resort were nice, but now…”
“Hey—they are nice, but like everyone else they talk,” Stacy said in defense of her coworkers. “If you’re going to be mad at someone, it should be Michael. He’s the one who gave them something to talk about.”
“Ever since I got his letter I’ve been trying to figure out what I could have done differently in our relationship, but he acted as if he was really happy.”
“Paige, this is not your fault.”
“Then why do I feel like it is?”
“Because you’re a woman and men want us to feel that way…like we’re to blame for everything that goes wrong in a relationship.”
“Well, it doesn’t help that some women buy into that crap. Maybe our problem was about sex. But if sex was so important to our relationship, he shouldn’t have told me he understood my reasons for wanting to wait until we were married to sleep together.”
“You never had sex with Michael!” It was a statement, not a question.
Paige gasped. “I can’t believe I told you that.”
“It’s okay. I’ll treat it as a confidence. You have my word.” Stacy made a cross over her heart with her right index finger.
“I’ve always believed that I would only have sex with one man—the one I married. It was a gift I wanted to give my husband on our wedding night. That’s why Michael and I were waiting until we were married…or at least I was waiting. He was obviously doing it with Chelsea.” Paige took another sip of her punch then asked, “Do you think if I had been sleeping with Michael, he would have still run off with her?”
“Now you’re starting to sound like one of those women who believe the crap men are peddling. You and Michael had an agreement. He broke it. It’s that simple. Case closed.”
“You’re right. Even if we did have sex, he might have still run off with Chelsea.”
“Exactly.” Stacy lifted her glass in acknowledgment. “There’s no excuse for his behavior.”
“I can’t believe he dumped me like that. He could have at least told me face-to-face. He’s chickenshit. And pig shit, too.” She giggled.
“He’s afraid of heights,” Stacy reminded her.
“And bees. He runs like a girl when he sees one. He told me it’s because he’s allergic to them, but I think he’s just afraid.”
“He’s vain. Have you noticed how he can’t pass a mirror without admiring himself?”
With each sip of the fruit drink Paige found it easier to find fault with her ex-fiancé. By the time she was on her third glass of Stacy’s special concoction, she was convinced she’d been unhappy with him.
“Now aren’t you glad you’re not going to marry the man?” Stacy asked.
“Yeeeesss! I’m happy he’s gone and I hope
