Twenty years ago Dan and I went on our honeymoon to Cabo San Lucas where we ran into the biggest storm in history. It was so bad our hotel was completely shut down and we had to stay in this crappy motel with green tablecloths for three nights while the storm raged on. All I wanted to do was lie on those white pool cushions at the Twin Dolphin, but instead we sat on a pilled flowery bedspread that smelled like hay.
I cried the whole time until Dan forced me to go swimming in the pouring rain. When I came out of the water, Dan wrapped a huge towel around me and said, “Let’s just assume it’s going to rain for the next sixty years, okay?”
“How will that help our situation?” I asked.
“Because then you’ll forget about it and realize that you have to have fun anyway.”
“If it rains for the next sixty years, I’m pretty sure you won’t want to stay married to me. Look at my hair already.”
“I’m trying to make a point here.”
“I know, but it’s not helping.”
And then the sun came out and we made it to our hotel and the rest of the honeymoon was heaven on earth.
“Maybe it will be sunny for the next sixty years,” I said.
“I’m pretty sure it won’t be,” he said, slathering on suntan lotion.
Twenty years later. . . .
We arrive at the Mayflower Inn in Washington Connecticut to celebrate our anniversary after sitting in traffic for three and half hours. When we get there, we find out they accidentally booked our room for the first of our two nights stay.
“How could this happen?” I cried.
“I’m not sure,” the manager said. “There’s been a terrible mistake and we’re completely booked. Shall I try to get you a room at another hotel for the night?”
“Why? Why shall you do something like that when we have a room booked here?” I looked over at Dan who was eating an apple. He got it from the bowl on the reception desk.
“Those are for decoration,” I whispered to him.
“So?” he said, taking a bite.
“You’re embarrassing me,” I said.
“Just relax. You’re too uptight.”
“Honey, we have nowhere to stay tonight and I’m not driving home just to come back here tomorrow night. They should at least apologize.”
“What good would that do?” he asked, still eating.
“I have one other suggestion,” the manager said. “We have a tea house that you might like. We use it for meetings, but it has a pull-out bed and a big TV.”
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“Let’s take a look at it,” Dan said, chewing.
The tea house was a cavernous meeting room with all sorts of telecommunications equipment and a spider in the bathroom. I looked around and felt like stepping on the scanner, but then I looked over at my husband. He looked worried. He knew the tea room was as romantic as a frying pan and he felt sorry for me. I’d been looking forward to our weekend all year, as I do every year. It’s the only time I get to be totally alone with him. To hear him say all that funny stuff he says, and to remember we were once just a couple. I saw him toss his apple in the wastepaper basket under the ugly desk and shake his head.
“We’ll take it!” I said.
“What? Why?” Dan said.
“It’ll be fun. We’ll watch TV and play with that thing over there.”
“The fax machine?”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. We’ll be together, so what difference does it make?”
“Well, it’s just that this room is so ugly and everything.”
“Just pretend it’s raining,” I said.