took
me six, four of which were white-knuckle driving. Thank God Rox and
the girls hadn’t tried to brave it or I’d be on a rescue mission
instead. Well, now that I put it like that, I sort of am on a
rescue mission. For what exactly? We’ll see soon enough.
Tess has no idea her girlfriends are not on
their way. The cabin is perched deep in the mountains at Snow Bluff
Ski Resort. I helped Tess find it three years ago when she was
looking for a little real estate investment that would be closer to
Echo Mountain instead of the East Coast, which is where she was
living at the time. The reason people flock to Snow Bluff is
because it’s a true escape from the world, since you really cannot
reach anyone.
Before I got on the road, Rox and I
transferred all the bachelorette party goods into my truck so that
Tess could at least see the efforts the girls went to for her.
Yeah, right down to the rainbow penis lollipops and the Mr. Stud
blow-up doll. You can imagine my fear of the highway patrol finding
my truck flipped over while a yard sale of penis paraphernalia lies
scattered across all four lanes. Rox claims I have half a nut now.
Jesus.
I arrive at eight and it’s pitch black
outside. A thick blanket of snow muffles every noise as the
blizzard comes at us in full regalia. Even with chains on all my
tires, the trek here was a blinding doozy. The cabin looks to have
every light on, including Christmas twinklers that glow like
fireflies under the mess of snow that covers them. Music is blaring
loudly—I’d say ten out of ten on the volume dial—as I walk into the
cabin.
Tess is nowhere, even when I yell like a
bear for her. The smell of cinnamon, vanilla, and evergreen hits me
like a syrupy nasal bomb as I make my way to the kitchen and set
down the boxes full of party stuff. Looks like Tess made some
headway on the party decorations as I notice the pecker piñata
hanging in the middle of the living room, along with stacks of
games and tubs full of beer all capped with plastic penises. I yell
out a few more times for her, then walk to the back of the house
where the bedrooms are.
The master bedroom is my first thought; it’s
most likely where she’s getting herself all dolled up to party with
the girls. There’s not a chance she could’ve heard me come in. I
can’t even hear myself think because the music is even louder back
here. Shoes, bras, panties, and makeup are scattered all over her
bed in an explosion of color and chaos. On her nightstand is a
gargantuan vibrator that looks like something King Kong’s bride
could get off on. That’s my girl. I see two empty shot glasses, and
one half empty beer sporting a penis topper. Oh, you can bet she’ll
be thrilled to see me. I go toward the bathroom door, calling her
name out again through the thunderclap-like decibels and the blow
drier. Nothing. I walk just to the edge of the door and peek in,
hoping to hell she’s not on the can or in some other precarious
position that I’d catch hell for if she saw me looking.
And there she is.
Buck naked, back to me. Her golden frenzy of
hair flying as she’s dancing. I mean dancing hardcore…singing into
her hairbrush, the whole nine yards, and while I’m startled seeing
her in this really sexy way, I’m violently shocked and stunned by
what else I’m seeing.
Fifteen years in and never one word. Fifteen
years is a long time to never know something this immense,
something so incredibly alarming that even I can’t look away. The
catastrophic blur zipping through my head is moving so fast, I
can’t even speak. And then, as I’m about to touch her shoulder, she
turns her head to me and catches my eyes. My fingers aren’t even to
her as she’s scrambling into the towel rack to cover herself
up.
And here I am again. I can’t seem to get it
right with her. We can’t seem to get it right. I walk out of the
bathroom, sit on the bed, and sink into the idea of what’s about to
come down, because tonight all hell is
me six, four of which were white-knuckle driving. Thank God Rox and
the girls hadn’t tried to brave it or I’d be on a rescue mission
instead. Well, now that I put it like that, I sort of am on a
rescue mission. For what exactly? We’ll see soon enough.
Tess has no idea her girlfriends are not on
their way. The cabin is perched deep in the mountains at Snow Bluff
Ski Resort. I helped Tess find it three years ago when she was
looking for a little real estate investment that would be closer to
Echo Mountain instead of the East Coast, which is where she was
living at the time. The reason people flock to Snow Bluff is
because it’s a true escape from the world, since you really cannot
reach anyone.
Before I got on the road, Rox and I
transferred all the bachelorette party goods into my truck so that
Tess could at least see the efforts the girls went to for her.
Yeah, right down to the rainbow penis lollipops and the Mr. Stud
blow-up doll. You can imagine my fear of the highway patrol finding
my truck flipped over while a yard sale of penis paraphernalia lies
scattered across all four lanes. Rox claims I have half a nut now.
Jesus.
I arrive at eight and it’s pitch black
outside. A thick blanket of snow muffles every noise as the
blizzard comes at us in full regalia. Even with chains on all my
tires, the trek here was a blinding doozy. The cabin looks to have
every light on, including Christmas twinklers that glow like
fireflies under the mess of snow that covers them. Music is blaring
loudly—I’d say ten out of ten on the volume dial—as I walk into the
cabin.
Tess is nowhere, even when I yell like a
bear for her. The smell of cinnamon, vanilla, and evergreen hits me
like a syrupy nasal bomb as I make my way to the kitchen and set
down the boxes full of party stuff. Looks like Tess made some
headway on the party decorations as I notice the pecker piñata
hanging in the middle of the living room, along with stacks of
games and tubs full of beer all capped with plastic penises. I yell
out a few more times for her, then walk to the back of the house
where the bedrooms are.
The master bedroom is my first thought; it’s
most likely where she’s getting herself all dolled up to party with
the girls. There’s not a chance she could’ve heard me come in. I
can’t even hear myself think because the music is even louder back
here. Shoes, bras, panties, and makeup are scattered all over her
bed in an explosion of color and chaos. On her nightstand is a
gargantuan vibrator that looks like something King Kong’s bride
could get off on. That’s my girl. I see two empty shot glasses, and
one half empty beer sporting a penis topper. Oh, you can bet she’ll
be thrilled to see me. I go toward the bathroom door, calling her
name out again through the thunderclap-like decibels and the blow
drier. Nothing. I walk just to the edge of the door and peek in,
hoping to hell she’s not on the can or in some other precarious
position that I’d catch hell for if she saw me looking.
And there she is.
Buck naked, back to me. Her golden frenzy of
hair flying as she’s dancing. I mean dancing hardcore…singing into
her hairbrush, the whole nine yards, and while I’m startled seeing
her in this really sexy way, I’m violently shocked and stunned by
what else I’m seeing.
Fifteen years in and never one word. Fifteen
years is a long time to never know something this immense,
something so incredibly alarming that even I can’t look away. The
catastrophic blur zipping through my head is moving so fast, I
can’t even speak. And then, as I’m about to touch her shoulder, she
turns her head to me and catches my eyes. My fingers aren’t even to
her as she’s scrambling into the towel rack to cover herself
up.
And here I am again. I can’t seem to get it
right with her. We can’t seem to get it right. I walk out of the
bathroom, sit on the bed, and sink into the idea of what’s about to
come down, because tonight all hell is
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