Read Online The Castaways by Elin Hilderbrand - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elin Hilderbrand
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green bandanna on her hair. And Greg said to his bass player,
Hey, that little Gidget girl is hot.
They were, now, the perfect couple.
Or were they? Delilah was suspicious. She didn’t believe in perfect couples. She didn’t believe in perfect families. Delilah told off-color jokes and stories, she threw decorum to the wind, and people liked this about her because on some level everyone related. Life was messy. It did fart and burp, it left a stink in the bathroom and bloodstains on the sheets. Polite society had an underbelly. People led complicated, secret lives, and this fascinated Delilah.
But what did she know?
Greg’s hand on her foot. Her leg!
Dessert was served, and Delilah was tired of thinking. She wanted to talk. She cleared her throat, and everyone at the table looked at her. They were hungry for her.
“Greatest band of all time,” Delilah said. “Who is it?” She pointed at Greg. “You’re not allowed to say the Porn Stars.”
“Or the European Bikinis,” Addison said.
They were off and running.
By the time they left Le Cirque, they were all drunk. Happy drunk! Too drunk for Wayne Newton, too drunk for Barry Manilow, too drunk for O. Too drunk for the crooner in the cheesy lounge at Caesars who liked to end his cabaret show with “Someone Left the Cake Out in the Rain.”
But not ready for bed. Not yet! It wasn’t even midnight!
What to do? The Bellagio fountains—again? No. The white tigers at the Mirage? No. A drink at the Venetian? No. Slots? Maybe, just for a minute. Howie Mandel? No.
They decided to go to Circus Circus to ride the roller coaster. This was Tess’s idea, and since she was Cindy Brady, and since she never got to decide anything, that was what they did. They were all dressed up, but no matter. They filed two by two (couples only this time) into the roller-coaster cars, with Delilah and Jeffrey up front. Delilah leaned her head against Jeffrey’s shoulder; she squeezed the hell out of Jeffrey’s farmer hand, which was as wide and sturdy as a spade. No one would believe this, it would in fact
surprise
them, but Delilah was afraid of roller coasters. Terrified. And not just in the way that normal people were afraid of roller coasters. She was in full freak-out mode. Her heart was a crazed animal that had been zapped with high-voltage electricity; she thought she might cry, or insist on staying on the ground where it was safe, but this was a group thing, Tess had picked it, and Delilah would not be the spoiler.
She clung to Jeffrey. The man was a walking, talking security blanket. He was not going to let anything happen to Delilah. That, in the end, was why she had married him. She didn’t need excitement or trouble from a man; she created enough of that on her own.
“You’re the best person in the world to ride a roller coaster with,” she said to her husband.
It seemed he did not need this explained to him. He took it the way it was meant. As an apology.
“Thank you,” he said.
The roller coaster lurched forward. Delilah shrieked. They hadn’t even gone anywhere.
Here we go! Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!
The roller coaster jerked upward, it ticked ominously up the incline. Delilah had her back braced against the seat. Her heart wanted out. Oh my God. It would be thrilling, she thought, a thrill all the better because it was so damn scary. They crested, the car hesitating at the top. Delilah could not see the bottom of the chute but she could sense it. The air beneath her, the breath-stealing trajectory.
They plunged. Delilah’s stomach fell away; it was somewhere over her head. She screamed. They all screamed.
(They hadn’t known, then, what was coming. They didn’t know about September 11, Phoebe’s twin brother jumping from the hundred and first floor; they didn’t know about lost pregnancies; they didn’t know about the pharmaceutical cornucopia targeted at post-traumatic stress disorder; they didn’t know about the ways their marriages would fall apart and
Hey, that little Gidget girl is hot.
They were, now, the perfect couple.
Or were they? Delilah was suspicious. She didn’t believe in perfect couples. She didn’t believe in perfect families. Delilah told off-color jokes and stories, she threw decorum to the wind, and people liked this about her because on some level everyone related. Life was messy. It did fart and burp, it left a stink in the bathroom and bloodstains on the sheets. Polite society had an underbelly. People led complicated, secret lives, and this fascinated Delilah.
But what did she know?
Greg’s hand on her foot. Her leg!
Dessert was served, and Delilah was tired of thinking. She wanted to talk. She cleared her throat, and everyone at the table looked at her. They were hungry for her.
“Greatest band of all time,” Delilah said. “Who is it?” She pointed at Greg. “You’re not allowed to say the Porn Stars.”
“Or the European Bikinis,” Addison said.
They were off and running.
By the time they left Le Cirque, they were all drunk. Happy drunk! Too drunk for Wayne Newton, too drunk for Barry Manilow, too drunk for O. Too drunk for the crooner in the cheesy lounge at Caesars who liked to end his cabaret show with “Someone Left the Cake Out in the Rain.”
But not ready for bed. Not yet! It wasn’t even midnight!
What to do? The Bellagio fountains—again? No. The white tigers at the Mirage? No. A drink at the Venetian? No. Slots? Maybe, just for a minute. Howie Mandel? No.
They decided to go to Circus Circus to ride the roller coaster. This was Tess’s idea, and since she was Cindy Brady, and since she never got to decide anything, that was what they did. They were all dressed up, but no matter. They filed two by two (couples only this time) into the roller-coaster cars, with Delilah and Jeffrey up front. Delilah leaned her head against Jeffrey’s shoulder; she squeezed the hell out of Jeffrey’s farmer hand, which was as wide and sturdy as a spade. No one would believe this, it would in fact
surprise
them, but Delilah was afraid of roller coasters. Terrified. And not just in the way that normal people were afraid of roller coasters. She was in full freak-out mode. Her heart was a crazed animal that had been zapped with high-voltage electricity; she thought she might cry, or insist on staying on the ground where it was safe, but this was a group thing, Tess had picked it, and Delilah would not be the spoiler.
She clung to Jeffrey. The man was a walking, talking security blanket. He was not going to let anything happen to Delilah. That, in the end, was why she had married him. She didn’t need excitement or trouble from a man; she created enough of that on her own.
“You’re the best person in the world to ride a roller coaster with,” she said to her husband.
It seemed he did not need this explained to him. He took it the way it was meant. As an apology.
“Thank you,” he said.
The roller coaster lurched forward. Delilah shrieked. They hadn’t even gone anywhere.
Here we go! Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!
The roller coaster jerked upward, it ticked ominously up the incline. Delilah had her back braced against the seat. Her heart wanted out. Oh my God. It would be thrilling, she thought, a thrill all the better because it was so damn scary. They crested, the car hesitating at the top. Delilah could not see the bottom of the chute but she could sense it. The air beneath her, the breath-stealing trajectory.
They plunged. Delilah’s stomach fell away; it was somewhere over her head. She screamed. They all screamed.
(They hadn’t known, then, what was coming. They didn’t know about September 11, Phoebe’s twin brother jumping from the hundred and first floor; they didn’t know about lost pregnancies; they didn’t know about the pharmaceutical cornucopia targeted at post-traumatic stress disorder; they didn’t know about the ways their marriages would fall apart and
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