I looked up at the sky, watching an ominous patch of clouds move over Rose Island. How odd that no one saw this coming. Because it looked like it was going to be pretty bad. I tried to swallow the bile in the back of my throat, wondering if we’d get hit by the storm while at sea. I would definitely end up puking then.

“Hey, Voodoo Lady!” Shaggy Hair was smiling lopsidedly at me, a beer in his hand. “You’re the only sober one left. How pathetic is that?” I looked around me. Yup. Everyone was having a blast, completely oblivious to the danger we could be in. Even Sky was swaying giddily, her eyes not focusing on anything in particular.

“I’d better not be the only sober one,” I called back over the engine, jerking my thumb at Bryan, where he stood steering the boat. Sweat was beading on his forehead and his upper lip, and underneath his tan his face was bloodless. Several empty plastic cups lay crumpled at his side, and I realized with a flash of horror that I was, in fact, the only sober one on board.

“Come on, you prude,” he said, his voice suddenly in my ear. I jerked around to find that Shaggy Hair was standing right next to me, smiling. “One shot, and I’ll leave you alone.”

My eyes widened. “You promise? Because that’s all I really want – for you to leave me the fuck alone.” I kept glancing back at Bryan, fear swelling up inside me. I looked at Tanya and Sky, where they were laughing and dancing like nothing was wrong. Our captain was drunk, we were about to get hit by a monumental storm, and I was the only one who was worried. I snatched the shot glass from Shaggy Hair. I tossed it back without hesitation, and then said huskily, “Get me another one, would you?”

Shaggy Hair hooted, his face flushed. “Yes, ma’am!”

After choking down another shot of whatever that was, I started to feel a bit calmer. I made my way to Bryan and asked, “Um, is there something I can do to help?”

Bryan didn’t even look at me as rain droplets started to splash against the control panel. “Could you get everyone to put on a life jacket and get below, mate? This is gonna be a bad one.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I answered doubtfully. I grabbed a few life jackets and stumbled back out to where the drunks had finally noticed it was starting to rain. The women started laughing, their faces upturned into the now rapidly falling droplets. This was going to be like herding cats. I started with Sky and Tanya. “Guys, the storm is here. Let’s try and get everyone below before someone ends up overboard.”

Tanya glanced at me, and I could tell what she was thinking. Of course I was the only person not having a good time. Of course I was the only person with a stick up my ass. Of course I was the one trying to ruin everybody’s fun. I would have been rigid with fury, but those two shots were working their magic. My joints were made of rubber. I pointed to Bryan, who was mopping his brow with the tail of his shirt. “T, your boy asked that you put this on and get down below. Don’t fight me.”

That convinced her, and before I knew it, I had managed to get everyone below deck, if not in a life jacket. The cabin was small, stuffy, and crowded with, well, drunks. The smell of body odor and alcohol mingled in the stagnant heat, and I felt my stomach leap into my throat. The storm was getting worse, and the waves tossed the catamaran like a toy in the bathtub. The boat pitched from side to side, and as I stood pressed between Shaggy Hair and Sky, I suddenly knew I was going to throw up.

“Sabrina! Where are you going?” Sky cried, her own face a light shade of green.

“I’ll be back,” I mumbled. “I’m going to be sick.” At that moment, one of the frat boys retched  noisily on the floor, and I knew I had to get the hell out of the cabin. I squeezed past the sweaty bodies and up the ladder, nearly falling as the boat rocked to the left. Above, the rain pelted down mercilessly, and Captain Bryan, drenched and panicked, was trying to radio someone, anyone.

“Get back below!” he yelled at me as I rushed to the metal railing and puked up a combination of hard alcohol, Bahama Mama, and chicken fingers. I wiped my mouth and looked at him, shaking my head. The rain felt good, and I wasn’t just about to go back down there. He yelled a series of incoherent curses at me, saying something about the compass not working.

As the cabin door began to push open – probably by the passengers who didn’t want to sit amongst the heat, sweat, and vomit – Bryan kicked it shut forcefully, leaning against it and locking it with one swift movement. “No one else is getting out of there until this storm is over,” he yelled angrily, flashing a look at me.

I lay down on the slippery deck, gripping the railing with one hand. I just wanted it to stop. I would do anything for this feeling to go away. Anything. I tried to roll on my back, but my backpack, which I had so cleverly strapped on over my life jacket, prevented me from doing so. I didn’t have the energy to tear it off, so I just lolled on my side, my hair matted to my face, looking up into the most frightening sky I’d ever seen. The clouds reached down to the sea like ghostly hands, illuminated from behind by an unearthly glow.

You have displeased your loua… Something big is about to happen to you…

By “something big” had she meant “death”? It sure was beginning to seem like it. Suddenly the boat lurched violently. I felt my skull crack against the fiberglass hull, my body thrown like a ragdoll into the air. I’m not sure if I screamed. I’m pretty sure I didn’t, considering I couldn’t even get up the energy to flail or grab for something. I tasted salt water, felt it burn my eyes. It filled my ears and nose, pulled at my limbs.  I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t tell which way the surface was. The life jacket and backpack pulled in opposite directions, one dragging me down, the other trying to break the waves, both riding up around my neck. I shook my head in distress, and the backpack covered my face. Suddenly, death seemed like a welcome reprieve to the sea sickness, to the battering of the sea. My head hit something hard again, and the next thing I saw was Sophie’s face when she was four or five months old, smiling her toothless smile, her chubby hands reaching for me…

Take good care of her, Jake. I love you both.

Sky and I had found a quiet place on the beach to sit, and she rummaged through my backpack, pulling out her book. Realizing the torture I was in for, I pulled out my iPod. Sky looked around for a second, leaning back on her elbows. “This place is gorgeous,” she said.

“Uh-huh,” I replied, tucking the earbuds in my ears. “It’s really perfect if you’re looking for some privacy.” I rolled my eyes meaningfully in Tanya’s direction, where she and the Aussie were already wandering off together as she tossed back her head and laughed, touching him lightly on his arm.

Sky watched them walk off and then turned to me, a smile playing on her lips. “This is going to sound all kinds of messed up, but I’m kind of living vicariously through her. He’s pretty hot.”

I chuckled. “It’s the accent.” Then I added, “That’s not messed up. You’ll get back home and jump Dave like a hormonal teenager. He’ll love that.”

Sky grinned. “I may dress him up as a pirate for fun.”

I shook my head, smiling widely. “You do realize pirates were not like…” I grabbed the book out of her hands, opening it up to a random page. “…like Lord Lance.” I jumped up as Sky tried to snatch the book back, scrabbling from her beach towel and laughing. “Jesus, Sky, what on earth are you reading? The Pirate’s Fire? Are you serious?”

Sky was still laughing, wrapping her arms around my calves. “Come on, S, don’t lose my place, okay? I have an abnormal obsession with pirates. I can’t help it if being here makes me want to read about buccaneers. Historically speaking, Nassau was a pirate haven.”

I laughed. “Don’t you start lecturing me! I already know all that. And don’t try distracting me from the fact that you’re reading about being ravaged by a pirate.”

Sky’s lips twitched as she held out her hand. “My book, please?”

I handed the book back to her, pointing to the bronze-skinned Adonis on the cover. He was embracing a pale blond woman who looked to be in mid-orgasm. “Fine. But let me just remind you that in real life, pirates were nothing like this. They were filthy, had rotting teeth, and serious dingle-berries.”

Sky shook her head defiantly. “Don’t ruin my fantasies, S. I’m not listening.”

I plopped down, leaning to speak in her ear. “They suffered from scurvy and malnutrition, were probably more interested in each other than in women, carried all kinds of fun STDs like syphilis. And all that bullshit about pirates being vigilantes. They were, and still are, thugs, Sky, just plain thugs who raped and murdered and –  ”

Sky clapped her hand to my mouth, smiling. “Shut. Yo. Face.”

I leaned back, deciding I’d annoyed her enough. “Just keep your hands where I can see them, okay?” Grinning to myself, I went back to my iPod. Sky continued to read her Harlequin while I scrolled through my list of songs, wondering if I had any new e-mails. The air was breezeless, and it felt abnormal, stifling, almost. The sea was eerily still, the azure waves lapping gently at our feet. I was starting to feel restless, wondering if I would get grief from Sky if I checked my Blackberry, when she suddenly set her book down and looked at me, a peculiar expression on her face. “Sabrina,” she said, then hesitated.

I paused Dido mid-vibrato and pulled out an earbud. “Huh?”

“I hope it doesn’t bother you if I ask this…” She pursed her lips together and tilted her head to one side before asking, “What did that Voodoo woman say to you?”

Despite the stillness in the air, I felt the goosebumps rise on my arms. What could I say? If I told her I didn’t want to talk about it, I’d make myself sound frightened. So I tried to laugh it off, shaking my head with disdain. “That wacko? That my spirits were pissed with me and that something big would happen to me.” Although I tried to sound cavalier, my voice quivered ever so slightly.

Sky sat quietly for a second, her hands folded on her book, then said, “Something big? That’s not necessarily bad, then, right?”

“Shit, I don’t know, Sky! It could mean anything under the sun. It’s kind of like reading your horoscope. Complete and total crap.” I believed that, right? That it was crap? Of course I did. Then why did my body react so strongly every time I thought about Miryam and her words? Maybe it was growing up in Haiti, where everyone save my grandfather believed in some sort of hocus pocus. Where  my own nanny sang to me nightly,

Fais dodo, petit, pour mama
Si bébé pas fais dodo
Grand loup-garou va manger ou.

Go to sleep, little one, for Mama
If you won’t go to sleep
The werewolf will come and eat you.

Now isn’t that sweet?

Sky sighed. “I guess it’s silly of me to even ask. I can’t imagine anything like that would freak you out, of all people. Just the way she was looking at you…”

I swallowed, carefully keeping my face composed. “I grew up with people who believed zombies owned the night. This sort of thing doesn’t faze me.”

“Guys!” We turned to see Tanya jogging down the beach towards us, her clothes in disarray, her hair flying loosely behind her. “We have to go. Now.”

Sky and I jumped up. “What happened?”

Tanya smiled at us mischievously. “Oh, you know. We were about to start round two when he got paged. A thunderstorm is coming through here, and we have to leave, like, now.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The pirate carries a pager? How authentic.”

Sky looked up, confused. “A thunderstorm? I don’t see anything.”

Tanya shrugged. “Yeah, nobody did. Otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to leave this morning. In any case, Bryan wants us all back on the boat pronto.” As we started back, Tanya reached for my backpack. “Hey, S, can I have my lip gloss? And my eye liner? Actually, just give me my whole makeup bag.”

“You have an entire makeup bag in here?” I cried. “No wonder it feels like it weighs ten tons!”

Sky archly yanked a strand of Tanya’s wild hair and asked, “So? How did it go?”

Tanya’s face stretched into a wide smile and she gurgled as she broke into a run. We chased after her, screaming obscenities at her, teasing her. Up above, the clouds quickly but soundlessly thickened into a gray fog, blotting out the sun.

I sighed, looking back up as a group of college students sat down across from us, laughing loudly. I leaned toward Tanya. “I can’t believe we’re going on a booze cruise,” I muttered.

She pressed her lips together and flashed a coy smile at one of the frat boys. Not looking at me, she said, “It’s not a booze cruise. It’s a day-long excursion to Rose Island, which happens to serve alcohol.” She handed me her lip gloss. “Can you put this in your backpack?”

Being the raging dork that I was, I had insisted that we only take one bag – my backpack – on this trip. I figured it was a better way to keep track of our belongings, and only one of us had to carry anything. Plus, it allowed me to sneak my Blackberry along. I hadn’t anticipated how much crap would get loaded onto my back. I felt Sky unzip the backpack behind me and slip her book into it as someone called us to attention.

“Ahoy, mates!” We turned to see our captain – a young man in his mid-twenties with bleach-blond hair. He was decked out in a pirate’s outfit he must have gotten from a Halloween costume store: red handkerchief tied around his head, white shirt with billowy sleeves, tight pants tucked into black boots, a sash around his waist. And of course, an eye patch. The shirt, as expected, had no buttons, and lay open to reveal a “V” of very tan, very muscular, very hairless chest. He explained to us what our trip would consist of, his words enhanced by the lilt of an accent. Australian. I wanted to roll my eyes. Of course he was Australian. This guy must get tourist booty like nobody’s business.

As we and the eight other passengers followed the Aussie, named Bryan, onto the 40-foot catamaran, Tanya hooked her arms around Sky’s neck and around my waist, pulling us close. She growled into our ears, “Day-yam. He can shiver me timbers any day of the week.” Sky and I smiled at each other. The minute Captain Bryan had appeared, we knew that Tanya would be lost to us today. Just as well. One less person to notice if I spent the trip puking over the side of the boat.

The instant we were seated on the boat, a young Bahamian woman hurried out with cocktails, grinning playfully at us. Jesus. It was, what, eleven in the morning? Who wanted to drink anything but coffee at this time of day? I sighed. I knew that, unless I wanted to be harangued mercilessly by Tanya, I would have to start drinking soon. I stared at the dock, trying to focus on the lack of movement there. So far so good.

“I hear the Bahama Mama is awesome,” Sky told me, handing me a fruity-looking drink as she took one herself.

I tried not to look disgusted. “What’s in it?”

Sky grinned. “Rum, rum, and more rum.”

I looked over at Tanya, who had slipped out of her cover-up and was enjoying the not-so-subtle stares of the frat boys, a sly smile on her lips. “What is Tanya having?” I asked.

Sky tried not to laugh. “Sex On The Beach.”

Of course. How stupid of me. I settled back, holding the cup in my hands, my eyes focused on the shore as we set off. The speakers blared some calypso, and the college kids seemed to go through the drinks faster than the girl could bring them out. It was a particularly steamy day, steamier than yesterday, and a haze had settled on the horizon. It was neither cloudy nor sunny, just hot. Had we not been moving, there would have been no breeze.

I leaned forward, my eyes still on the shore, my drink still untouched. For some reason, Miryam Dieujuste’s haunting words whispered in my head, and I shuddered. While I’d been fairly successful in blocking out yesterday’s experience, it came back to me suddenly, at the oddest times, and made my skin crawl. I was not remotely superstitious, but that woman had freaked me out. While my practical, lawyer’s brain pointed out how ridiculous the whole thing was, my body wouldn’t listen. Goosebumps rose on my skin, my heart picked up its pace ever so slightly, and my armpits went moist. A voice repeated the words: You have displeased your loua… Something big is about to happen to you…

So stupid. It could have been said to anyone, about anything, by a coin-operated fortune-telling machine. So the woman knew who I was, big deal. She may have heard Sky or Tanya saying my name, she may have stolen a library card from my wallet. Maybe she talked to someone who worked at the resort. There were many plausible explanations. There was no reason to be so spooked.

Still. Why me? I didn’t necessarily look Haitian. With my bronzed skin, green eyes, and thick, black hair, I could have been Indian, Russian, or just plain American mutt. I didn’t particularly resemble anyone in my family, anyone she would have known in Haiti. And I certainly didn’t look like my three-year-old self.

“…and Sabrina grew up in Haiti. But we all live in Houston now.” I looked up at my name to find that Tanya and Sky had befriended the college students. Let me rephrase that: Tanya had befriended two athletic-looking frat boys in baseball caps and Sky had been unwillingly drawn into the conversation.

One of the boys, a tall guy with shaggy brown hair, looked at me and grinned. “Haiti, huh? Do you practice voodoo?”

Idiot. I gave him the iciest stare I could muster. “You sure you want to know?”

His grin didn’t fade. I could tell he was one of those guys who didn’t get the hint when a girl wasn’t interested in him. He was one of those guys who went around saying, “Dude, she totally wants me,” even when he’d been slapped in the face. He pointed to my drink. “You gonna drink that before we get to the island or what? You haven’t even had a sip yet.”

I wasn’t sure what bothered me more: that I’d been called out, or that the frat boy had been watching me. I set the drink down in irritation. “Don’t think so. Feel free to drink it.” I stood uneasily, wondering if going below deck was a terrible idea. I really had to pee. I deliberated for exactly one second, deciding that I’d rather vomit non-stop than continue my conversation with the shaggy-haired kid.

“Hey,” Tanya called at me as I gripped the railing tightly and tried to walk forward, stumbling as I did. She lowering her glasses to glower at me. “Don’t even think about it, okay? He’s mine.”

I stared back at her blankly until Sky mumbled under her breath, “She means the Aussie, S.”

I rolled my eyes, groaning, “For God’s sake…” and then turned and stumbled to the cabin, trying to keep my eyes on the horizon but not lose my footing.

Both Tanya and I forced smiles for Sky’s sake and then continued to peruse the wares of the stall individually, walking in opposite directions.

Poor Sky. Ever since college, she’d been the peacemaker. The three of us had been roommates since sophomore year in college, and Sky had always been there to break the tension between me and Tanya. And tension there was – I was the classic over-achiever, she was the classic slacker. I was the prude, she was the playgirl. She was the life of the party, I was the party pooper. And we were both stubborn, full of self-importance, and – most importantly – full of love for each other. Somehow, our friendship worked, but not without Sky to defuse every storm. If Tanya and I were extremes, Sky was the perfect balance. Moreover, for some God foresaken reason, she wanted to be with us.

Sky sighed, realizing her efforts were in vain. “Oh, Dylan would love this,” she said, mostly to herself, as she picked up a carved wooden pirate pistol.

“Or this,” Tanya said softly, indicating a selection of wooden pirate swords laid out on a table. “I could just see you trying to take one of these onto the plane with you.” She snickered, looking at me for an unguarded second, and then quickly looking away, her smile gone.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t apologized for what she’d said in her drunken, angry fit. She had. And that was hard for her to do – Tanya was not one to admit defeat. But I hadn’t been willing or able to forgive her just yet. After apologizing, she’d looked at me with big, hopeful eyes, and I’d said simply, “I just need some time, T. Give me time to cool off. I’ll come around.”

We’d gone to the Straw Market in Nassau in an attempt to please me, I think; it was a planned excursion that Sky had arranged early that morning before I’d awakened. It was a steamy day, and the brightly colored wares shimmered in the humidity. The market, housed under an enormous tent, teemed with tourists. The amount of merchandise under the tent was staggering – I developed a mild headache merely skimming the items piled high at a single stall. Headache aside, the distraction was a welcome one, and I began meandering away from the stall where Sky and Tanya were bartering for some straw handbags.

I found myself at a stall with an odd assortment of goods: scowling masks peered down from the walls; wooden figurines of elongated women carrying baskets on their heads, their lips enormous, eyes haunting, and breasts exposed; paintings of mules and goats dancing, carousing, sneering… I was suddenly dizzy with the familiarity of it all. I steadied myself by gripping the edge of a table and looked up when I sensed I was being watched. A woman, her skin the darkest ebony, had stood up from where she sat in a corner and gazed at me, her eyes boring holes through me.

“Oh, look, honey!” A fat woman with a thick fringe of bangs and a Southern drawl stepped between me and the ebony woman, picking up a figurine. An equally fat man stood behind her, humoring her, but clearly bored out of his mind. The fat tourist chattered on. “Haitian art! I love this stuff. We should buy a couple paintings…”

The ebony woman’s eyes never left me, and the tourists had not drawn me out of my deja vu. I was dizzy and disoriented. I wanted to run away from the woman’s gaze, but could do nothing but gaze back. She was ageless, anywhere between thirty and sixty. Her body was very thin, and her hair glistened with strands of silver. She moved, cat-like, to my side, and said in a low, sing-song voice, “Pitit Beauchamp! Kisa ou ap fe isit?”

I stared at her in disbelief, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. The whites of her eyes seemed to glow in her black face. She waited patiently, unblinking, for me to find my tongue. Finally, I managed to whisper, “How do you know who I am?”

Her expression didn’t change. Her eyes flickered to the side, and she indicated a stool in the corner. “Shita.” Under normal circumstances, I would have declined, I would have insisted to know how she knew me, I would have gone back to my friends immediately if she didn’t answer me directly. But something in this woman’s eyes made me follow her commands without hesitation. It was like… being in a trance. She sat across from me on a stack of boxes, our knees practically touching. “Sabrina,” she said, drawing out each syllable. And then she smiled – a white, brilliant smile.

“You knew my grandfather?” I ventured, hoping there was some reasonable explanation for how this Haitian woman knew who I was. Because, as far as I could tell, there wasn’t. My grandfather had died when I was ten. I had not been to Haiti since then, nor had I been in contact with any family members or friends from Haiti. That chapter in my life was over, and I had not looked back. So for this woman to know who I was… Even if she had known me as a child… It was impossible…

“I worked for your grandfather,” she replied in perfect but heavily accented English. “I cooked. You would not remember me. I was only there until you were three or four years old.” She pulled out a greasy paper bag, in which were two Haitian pates. The smell of the meat-filled pastries wafted at me as she opened it, asking, “Ou grangou?” The dizziness returned, and I had a moment of Proustian memory. I shook my head and thanked her. If my stomach wasn’t so knotted I might have accepted, remembering with sudden clarity the early mornings in my grandfather’s garden, eating pates and listening to the street peddlers call and roosters crow.

She put the paper bag down, all the while watching my face carefully. “I am Miryam Dieujuste,” she said, as if that explained everything. I just stared dumbly, the name meaning nothing to me. A veritable army used to work in my grandfather’s kitchen. He’d employed many Haitians for his household – the kitchen, the garden, the housekeeping. My apparent lack of recognition did not seem to bother Miryam. She continued, “Let us just say… I remember you.” She smiled enigmatically.

“Yes, but…” I stumbled over my words. This woman had really gotten to me. Either that, or I was catching something. “That doesn’t explain… I haven’t been to Haiti since I was a child. You couldn’t know who I am…?”

Miryam suddenly took my hand in hers. I looked at her hands – unlike her ageless face, her hands were rough and gnarled. They could have been the hands of an eighty-year-old woman. She examined my fingers absently, her brow furrowing. “You have displeased your loua, Sabrina. I must warn you.”

Loua? Spirits? Comprehension flooded my mind. Voodoo manbo. I jerked my hand away, but Miryam did not look surprised or hurt. Her eyes met mine, and this time they were filled with… Fear? I would go so far as to say terror. It was contagious, and my heart rate accelerated. She continued, unperturbed by the fact that I was slowly standing up. “I have seen you many times in my mind. Pitit, something big is about to happen to you. Souple! Tende mwen! Listen to me.”

There were no fewer than five tourists at Miryam’s stall, all within a few feet of us, but neither one of us paid any attention. The tourists glanced at us curiously, but didn’t seem to hear, or understand, what Miryam was saying. She stood and brought her face close to mine, our eyes locked. “I didn’t understand why I was seeing you. Now I know.” Her words were rushed, because she could see I was about to bolt. “Sabrina, Bondye bon. Look around you, open your eyes! You – ”

“Sabrina! God, we thought you’d been kidnapped or something!”

I rushed toward Sky and Tanya, relieved. I grabbed them both around the waist and turned them around. “Just keep walking,” I muttered as they looked back, confused. Miryam stood before her stall, watching us retreat, her lips moving, her eyes wild. She watched us until we were lost in the crowds.

“S, who was that?” Tanya asked.

“She’s scary, S! Do you know her or something?” Sky looked back, hugging her belongings to her body.

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Was I overreacting? Away from Miryam’s stare, things began to seem silly. “She… used to work for my grandfather. When I was a little girl.”

Sky frowned. “And she remembered you? That’s a bit odd, isn’t it? You haven’t been back since you were a kid.”

I shrugged, Miryam’s spell broken, my sanity slowly returning. Under the bright sun, watching children chase each other and laugh, my heart resumed its normal pace. “Yeah. She said something about my ‘spirits.’ She was clearly into Voodoo. Probably a priestess or something.”

“She was a Voodoo priestess?” Tanya’s eyes goggled. “Dude, that is freaky, S!”

Sky slipped her arm through mine. Her voice contained a trace of concern as she asked, “What, exactly, did she say about these spirits?”

I shook my head, unwilling to relive the experience. “Nothing sane. She was just messing with me. She was obviously batshit crazy. What time is it? We’re not going to get left behind, are we?”

Tanya adjusted her new straw hat on her head. “Oh, they already left us. We’ll find another way back.” She grinned at me expectantly, her eyes searching mine for forgiveness.

I smiled and threw an arm around her neck, relaxing away from Miryam Dieujuste’s penetrating gaze. “Maybe we can find some hotties to take us back.” Tanya giggled, thrilled by both my reaction and by my words. Sky walked a step behind us, her arms crossed on her chest, biting her lip pensively.

“Sabrina, I am thisclose to slipping a tranquilizer into your bottle of water,” Tanya said, turning her head ever so slightly in my direction.

I sat down on my lounge chair, my leg jiggling with restlessness. “Don’t you guys want to do something? Learn to surf, go shopping, anything?”

“No,” they said in unison. Sky stretched her arms over her head. “S, we have plenty of time to do all that. We just got here.”

“We’ve been lying here for an hour!” I cried.

“Not all of us are lucky enough to have naturally tan skin,” Tanya grumbled, lifting the edge of her bikini bottom to check if her tan had advanced and squirting some more tanning oil on her thighs.

“Jesus, S, you’re as bad as my boys! Can’t you just sit still?” Sky asked.

I forced myself back into a supine position, my hands gripping the metal frame of my chair tightly. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard Jake’s voice. Telling me that this wasn’t the life he’d imagined for himself, for Sophie. That he hoped a separation would give me time to think, to prioritize. I clenched my jaw, remembering how he’d sat there on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his usually good-humored blue eyes rimmed with red, his handsome face crumpled from sleepless nights.

My chest ached as I remembered Sophie’s face, her wide blue eyes, so like her father’s, flickering from me to Jake as we tried to explain to her what was happening. It’s not that Mommy and Daddy don’t love each other… We love you more than life itself… Anxiety swelled into fear, and I could tell that she wanted to rush into Jake’s arms, to be sure that he wasn’t leaving her.

“I’m going to check out the rest of the resort, dammit,” I said loudly, springing out of my chair and grabbing my cover-up. “You two can stay here until you develop stage four melanoma, if you want.”

“Fine, fine, FINE,” Tanya cried, reluctantly pushing herself up into a sitting position. “Woman, you have some serious ants in your pants. I hope you find it in you to chill out before it’s too late.”

I was able to breathe normally again as we walked through the various marine habitats and then through the shopping court. We went to the spa and got pedicures. We peeked into the restaurants and bars, deciding which ones we would sample our first night on Paradise Island.

That evening, we showered and dressed up, ate dinner at a posh French restaurant, and headed to the casino. Not much of a gambler, I was satisfied to watch Tanya try her luck at Blackjack and Baccarat. As her luck held, her confidence grew, and soon she was drawing attention from several well-dressed men with too much gel in their hair. Tanya flirted expertly, luminescent in her green cocktail dress and Jimmy Choos. One of the men, realizing that Tanya had friends in tow, turned and smiled at Sky and me. Then he nudged his buddy – an equally slimy-looking character wearing a silver button-down shirt – and they grinned and winked, almost simultaneously.

We looked at each other in horror, stifling our laughter, and Sky muttered, “I don’t think so, dudes.” She flashed her ring finger none too subtly (she pretended to scratch her cheek) and slipped her arm through mine. “Do you want to go to the bar? Hey, T, we’re going to the bar… Come join us when you’re done…”

“And don’t bring the greaseballs,” I said, perhaps a bit too loudly. We giggled our way to the bar and plopped down on the stools. The bartender gave us the martinis we’d decided on and we surveyed the scene – the family tourists, the newlywed couples, the bands of single men and women. Sky’s cheeks were rosy from the alcohol she’d consumed, and her blue eyes sparkled. Her normally straightened hair was damp and wavy, and her skin gleamed a subtle bronze from the sun she’d gotten that afternoon.

I stared at her for a minute, my face cupped in my hand. “Sky, you look… weightless.”

She looked startled, then giggled. “Really? I feel weightless. At least for the time being. S, I needed this, you know? Don’t get me wrong, I love my boys to death, but I just needed a break.”

I stirred my drink. “Of course. Being a full-time mom is the hardest job out there.”

A strange look came across her face. “You believe that?” When I didn’t answer right away, she quickly amended, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just, well, your job is pretty damn hard too.”

“It’s not as hard as yours,” I replied evenly. “I’m too chicken shit to do your job.”

“Being a working mother is very difficult,” she said adamantly. “Juggling the demands of being a mother, a wife, and a careerist… That’s really hard, S.”

I felt the familiar tightness in my chest, the aching in my throat. I am not going to cry, I thought fiercely. I took a deep breath. Once I’d regained my composure, I said, “Yeah, it’s hard. And I failed. I dropped two of those balls, and now I’m only tossing one in the air.”

Sky put her hand on mine. “Why do you say that? Because you and Jake are separated? Sabrina, no marriage is perfect, and you guys just need some time to figure things out.”

I pulled away slowly, not wanting to hurt her feelings. But I could feel the doors closing. “Because Sophie doesn’t even like me, Sky. Because I should have never gotten married and become a mother. Because I suck at it. And now that Jake’s figured that out, he wishes he’d never married me to begin with. Now listen, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. No, I refuse to talk about it anymore.” I tossed back my martini, nearly choking as the gin left a burning trail down my throat. I blinked back the tears and grabbed Sky’s hand. “Come on,” I rasped. “Let’s find Tanya before she gets drunk enough to think those douchebags are one-night-stand material.”

As we approached the slot machines, Sky moaned, “Too late.” Tanya was drunk, her arms flung loosely around Silver Shirt’s neck, and his hand rested casually on her rear. Sky looked at me with a shrug. “Well, I guess -”

“Hang on,” I mumbled, leaving Sky behind me and approaching the amorous couple. Silver Shirt had the nerve to leer over Tanya’s shoulder at me. “Tanya, can I speak to you a minute?” I said loudly.

Tanya allowed her head to loll in my direction, and she smiled broadly, gazing out at me from under heavy lids. “Saaaaabriiiina,” she slurred, “I was wondering where you guys went! I want you to meet… Er…”

“Carlos,” Sliver Shirt said quickly, rolling his “r” deliberately, his voice as oily as his hair. He held his hand out to me. I didn’t take it.

“Yeah, Carlos, can I borrow Tanya for a minute?” I could tell he was going to protest, because his eyebrows came together and his lower lip began to protrude, but I didn’t give him a chance to utter a word. I dragged Tanya behind a row of slot machines and hissed at her. “Tanya, what are you doing? This is our vacation! You are not to hook up with random slimeballs – not while piss-ass drunk.”

Tanya was too intoxicated to muster up an effective retort, but she tried to straighten her shoulders and look down her nose at me. “Excuuuuuuse me? Carlos is a very nice -”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I interrupted, grabbing her forearm. “His name is Roy, he’s from Kentucky, and he wants to get laid.”

Tanya tried to pull away, scowling. “He is NOT! He’s from… from… Colombia. I think.”

“Right. Colombia my ass. T, let’s not do this, okay? If, when you’re sober, you decide ‘Carlos’ is your man, that’s fine. But you are so trashed right now.”

Tanya’s eyes, though unable to focus, flashed angrily for a second. “Sabrina, we are not in college anymore. I don’t need you to babysit me.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to steer her toward an anxious Sky. “Sure you don’t.”

Tanya yanked away defiantly, her voice several decibels too loud, shrill over the ring of the machines. “Actually, you know what, S? If anyone needs to get laid, it’s you. You haven’t been getting it on with Jake lately, that’s for sure. But I hear the girls are just swarming around him. You just need to get over him and move on.”

I felt like I’d been punched in the throat. I felt curious eyes watching us, waiting to hear how I would respond. I even heard one drunk fellow cry, “Ouch, baby!” Sky shook Tanya’s arm, hissing, “Tanya! What is the MATTER with you!” Then she turned to me with pleading eyes and spoke gently, but her words were lost on me. I began to back away slowly, my blood whooshing in my ears.

“I’m going to bed,” I said in a controlled voice. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Then I walked, as if in a trance, out of the casino.

I didn’t even bother to look up from my Blackberry – fifteen new e-mails? What the hell was wrong with these people? What part of the word “vacation” did they not grasp? “Chill out, Tanya,” I replied with a sigh. “I’m just checking to make sure nothing important has come up.”

Tanya leaned forward, trying, either seriously or in jest, to grab at my phone. I lifted it over my head and scowled at her.

“S, you promised!” she whined, sounding much like my daughter did every day of my life.  “T, relax! I need to be available in case of an emergency, I told you that,” I said through my teeth, sick and tired of arguing with my friends over my attachment to my Blackberry. Yes, I carried it everywhere, even to the can. Why couldn’t they just accept that, so long as I was trying to make partner at Cotts & Beaker, LLP, my Blackberry was an essential part of my being? Like an arm or a leg or an eyeball?

“A legal emergency?” Tanya said skeptically, raising an eyebrow. “So long as people ain’t dying…”

“Worse than that,” I snapped. “People’s livelihoods are on the line. Whether a company fails or not. Hundreds of people who go jobless if I don’t do my job.”

Tanya chuckled. “Oh yeah. Sure. If people’s livelihoods depend on the lawyers, then we’re truly screwed.”

Sky, who had been seemingly minding her own business up until this point, holding an OK! Magazine in front of her face, suddenly looked at me, rolling her eyes. “S, it’s seven days. I’m sure all your minions have everything under control.”

I playfully glared at her. “Oh, oh, Sky, hey, why don’t you just go back to drooling over the Twilight hotties? Huh? Who are all, like, ten years old?”

Before she could respond, the theme song to Dora the Explorer started blaring. She fumbled through her enormous Marc Jacobs handbag, muttering, “God, already? We’ve just gotten here. Can Dave not do anything by himself?”

Tanya lifted her hand, palm up, in Sky’s direction, a look of amazement on her face. “What is it with you two? For God’s sake? We are on Paradise Island, in one of the poshest resorts in the Caribbean! Hel-LO! Can you please put your goddamn crackberries away for a few days? How about a few minutes?”

“Excuse me, ma’ams?” We turned to see a tall, gangly Bahamian youth dressed in a bellhop’s outfit that was two sizes too big for him. He cleared his throat. “Yo’ rooms is ready,” he said, faltering slightly under the scrutinizing gaze of Tanya’s cat eyes.

We stood to follow him, Sky talking through her teeth into the phone, “No, no, I said don’t give him peanut butter! Peanuts before the age of three can cause fatal allergies… Jesus, Dave, all of my instructions are on the fridge…” We were led through the casino, which was comparable to any casino I’d seen in Vegas. An expanse of gaming tables and slot machines stretched out before us, populated by fanny-pack-wearing tourists and well-dressed businessmen alike, even in the middle of the day; towering glass sculptures illuminated with phosphorescent blues and oranges; murals depicting old maps of Atlantis, replete with vividly-colored mythical dragons and pirate ships. The air buzzed with the ringing of the machines, the clatter of coins, and the anticipation of unwon jackpots.

I felt Tanya slip her arm through mine as she whispered, “Aren’t you excited? This could be so great, if you let it.”

I smiled at her tightly, trying not to look impatient. “T, it will be great. Even if I check my crackberry once in a while.”

She slowly let her hand slip out from the crook of my arm, her smile fading a bit, and I knew she was disappointed in my response. I clearly wasn’t showing enough enthusiasm, enough willingness to let reality go. I shrugged the handle of my bag back onto a comfortable position on my shoulder and sighed as we finally reached the end of the casino and entered the lobby of the Royal Towers. We all instinctively looked up, marveling at the ornately decorated columns, the Mayan-style molding, the statues and murals of mythical sea creatures. While a hodgepodge of architectural styles, there was no denying it was impressive. A fantasy, an adult playground. Our coltish bellhop, Daniel, droned about the history and amenities of the hotel in monotone, his eyes focused on the memorized lines in his head.

We rode the elevator to the 20th floor, where Daniel showed us to our suite. He held the door open for us, and Tanya rushed in squealing, tossing her bag on the king-size bed and pressing herself against the sliding glass doors to the balcony. Sky had hung up with Dave and was fuming over their conversation, but forgot it the instant her eyes found the crystal beach beyond the doors. She, too, tossed her stuff on the bed and skipped to Tanya’s side. Without putting anything down, I walked to stand beside them, smiling.

“Nice,” I said.

Tanya turned her sparkling hazel eyes on me. “Sabrina, this could be really fun, if you let it.”

Sky inhaled. “We really are in paradise, guys.”

“Can I get you ladies any ting else?” Daniel stood at the door, looking uncomfortable.

Tanya walked up to him slowly, swaying her hips ever so slightly, and tucked several bills into his hand. “Just one more thing,” she purred as Daniel’s eyes widened. “Don’t ever call me ‘ma’am’ again.”

The boy gulped, his Adam’s apple bouncing. “Yes ma– er, miss?”

Tanya giggled. “That’s better.”

Daniel stumbled out of the room as quickly as possible, and the instant the door shut I moaned and covered my eyes. “Jesus, T. You scared the shit out of the poor kid.”

Tanya flipped her curly red-gold hair off her shoulder indignantly. “I am not so old that anyone should be calling me ma’am.”

Sky bubbled with laughter, clearly getting excited by the prospect of frolicking on the gorgeous beach. “He was just being respectful, T. You’re old enough to be his mom.”

Tanya’s brow furrowed indignantly. “I am not! How old was he, maybe seventeen, eighteen? That makes me, what, fourteen years older?”

I lifted my suitcase onto one of the beds, tossing the crimson, gold-tassled throw pillows out of the way. “Well, technically –”

“Shut up, S,” Tanya snapped. Sky and I exchanged furtive looks. Age was a sensitive subject to Tanya. While she forbade us to celebrate her birthday, we always managed to convince her that a quiet dinner out was in order (no gifts, no cake, no singing). She usually got drunker and drunker, until she was throwing herself at any young stud in the immediate vicinity – bartender, waiter, married patron sitting at the table next to ours celebrating his anniversary with his wife…

“The beach is calling my name,” Sky suddenly said brightly. “I think we should go down there immediately.”

“Don’t you want to check out the resort first?” I asked. I picked up the leather-bound book sitting on the bureau, next to the sixty-inch television. “This place is crazy. Maybe we should go down to the lobby and book some activities and excursions before they fill up.  Man, look at this. You can do everything from scuba diving to pottery-making.” I flipped through the enormous book as, this time, Tanya and Sky exchanged looks. I didn’t miss it. “What?” I demanded, closing the book suddenly.

Sky hesitated. “S, we just want to chill, you know? We…well…”

Tanya interrupted, her tone sharp. “We don’t want you scheduling our lives down to the second, the way you do yours. We’ll just go with the flow. If we miss some excursions, big deal. We’re here to relax, not stress out.”

I flinched. Ouch. “I don’t… You…” I huffed. “Whatever. I just thought you’d want to plan something. I wasn’t going to… Whatever.” I slammed the book down on the bureau and started rummaging through my suitcase for something to do.

Sky came up behind me and touched my shoulder. “Sabrina, don’t be mad. We just really want to – want you to relax. For real. No plans, no schedules.”

I tried to hide the anguish in my voice. “Yeah, sure, no problem.” Didn’t they get it? Didn’t they see? Without my schedules, without my plans, without my work… I was left with my thoughts. And I didn’t want that, not for a second. Because I didn’t know what thinking about my life would do to me.

We changed into our swimsuits and terry cloth dresses in considerable silence, until Sky started telling us a “funny” story about Dave and her kids. I half-listened as we got ready to walk out the door, touching my pocket covertly for my Blackberry.

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