Joanne in Sand

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A seeming disaster, an island trip, and sand sculptures.
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All of my writing is fiction, and the stories and characters are products of my imagination. They were created for my fun and, hopefully, your enjoyment. Some of the events in the stories are not particularly condoned nor encouraged by the author but are there to create and enhance the story of the imaginary characters and their lives. Comments are always encouraged and carefully reviewed. All characters within the story that need to be are 18 years of age or older. I hope you enjoy! And take a second to vote and comment.

If you're looking for lots of sex, this might not be the story for you. There is a bit near the end, but it's neither intense nor graphically described.

*****

"I think I may die before this happens," I lamented, ready to break into tears.

"You can always call it off," Les said nonchalantly without even smiling.

Her name was actually Olesya, but everyone shortened it to Les, and she was my best friend, my maid of honor, and the cool-headed opposite of myself. Thank goodness for the last one. I often clung desperately to that.

"I should strangle you for even jokingly suggesting that. Does what I said make sense? Coherent language has been beyond me lately." I was blabbering, but with the wedding only three days away and so much left to do, I wasn't sure what might happen.

"It's all going to happen, Jo. They never have to call off weddings because some small task wasn't handled."

"The flowers, photographer, caterer, and DJ aren't classified as small tasks. Tell me I'm not going crazy." I knew I was, so telling me I wasn't wouldn't work. Still, I'd like to hear it.

"Sit your little redheaded self down and listen to what I'm going to tell you. And listen carefully." There was a frown on her face, but I sensed she was laughing internally.

I sat as directed, wondering what she was going to tell me. I noticed my hand shaking. Maybe I needed to see the doctor. Or the psychiatrist. I tried to concentrate on Les. Why was she now chuckling?

"The first thing I'm going to tell you is to take a...long...deep...breath, then let it out slowly.

I tried, but it wasn't easy.

"Just tell me, Les. More bad news can't make things worse than they already are." I didn't believe that, but it sounded like I knew what I was doing.

"Nadia's dress arrived, and it fits."

I nodded. That was good news. What next?

"The florist called, and all of the flowers are cut, arranged, and ready for delivery."

What was going on? This was all good news.

"That can't be true--you're just saying those things to calm me down." I knew that things never went that well.

"The DJ would like you to give him the names of five or six songs you'd like him to play."

She'd ignored my comment.

"That just leaves the photographer, who dropped off three albums for you to check out."

I didn't know how to respond to good news. But my hand hadn't stopped shaking, so all was not well.

"That all sounds..."

"Good, right?"

"Yeah. What's wrong?"

"Things are working out, Jo. Just like I've been telling you they would."

I felt the tear creeping down my cheek. Les was a little blurred when I looked at her.

"How can I ever thank you?" I jumped up and hugged her as tightly as I could.

"Jo, without a mother to help you, I knew you'd need me. And there was nothing I wanted any more than to be able to do that."

"You have, Les. Oh my gosh, you have." What a treasure I had in Les. " I don't deserve you."

She smiled at me. "How long have we known each other?"

"Um, since kindergarten?"

"Yup. Long time."

"Eighteen years?"

"At least. And if I was getting married, would you help me plan?

I chuckled and was feeling a little better. "I'd be angry if you didn't ask me."

"Same here. I'm going to be ready if my wedding ever rolls around."

"Wait. I've been so wrapped up in myself. Oh, geesh." I looked at her helplessly

Les shrugged. "Lou's enthusiasm seems to be, well, waning, I guess."

Les, no."

"We operate a little differently."

I knew that Les was as sweet and kind a person as I'd ever known. I wasn't a man, but I thought she was cute, and couldn't imagine that a man wouldn't fall for her.

"How's that?"

"I guess I just like to get to know a guy, find out what he's like, his values, his hopes, and dreams, and see where things go. No hurry." She was quiet for a moment. "I think Lou had a list to check off. First date: kiss. Second date: kiss with tongue. Third date: oral sex. Fourth date: regular sex."

"Uh-oh. I'm sorry, Les."

She smiled at me. "This wedding has kind of saved me. Thank YOU."

"Still, Les. That isn't right."

"Don't worry about me. There's a wedding about to happen, and my best friend and her new husband will be off to The Dominican Republic for two weeks of...of what, Jo?"

I hated it when she made me blush. And I was blushing, thinking about having sex with Tyson...for two weeks.

"My goal today has been to calm you down. I think I've succeeded, at least a little. You have two more days, and there may be some tiny glitches that need to be taken care of. Call me, and let me take care of them."

Les left, and I was alone. Well, Dad was asleep upstairs but would be up soon to get ready for work. He worked maintenance for one of the large shopping centers but spent a lot of his time doing miscellaneous odd jobs for the tenants, which he enjoyed. He was so looking forward to walking me down the aisle. Life hadn't gone as he'd expected with Mother dying two years ago, which had been a shock to both of us.

When Dad left, I went to the spare bedroom and tried on my gown one more time. Les had warned me that if I kept doing that, I might be married in a dirty gown. I wasn't concerned. I was careful. I used the long mirror to view the gown, to view myself walking as I would be on Saturday, and, finally, I just stood there admiring myself in the mirror.

The countdown was at three days, and I was almost ticking off the minutes.

At a little after ten on Thursday morning, my cell phone rang. My smile was huge when I saw that it was Tyson.

"Hello, hon. Are you getting as excited as I am?"

"Hello, Jo. I, um, needed to call this morning."

I waited for him to fill me in, but he was silent.

"Is everything okay?" Tyson was certainly different from most men his age, but I'd grown to love him and was anxious to build a life with him.

"Honestly, Jo, no."

Honestly? Why the sudden formality?

"Um, go on, then. Is there something I can help with?"

"It does involve you, Jo."

"How does it involve me, hon?"

"This is really difficult for me to say, Jo."

"Just say it, Tyson," I heard in the background and recognized the voice of my future father-in-law. But what he said unnerved me.

"I'm sorry to say it, Jo, but I can't go on with the wedding."

What had he said? It sounded like he'd said there'd be no wedding.

"What did you say?" I asked, my voice and my body trembling.

"I've been thinking, and I'm not ready to marry. I need some time away. I leave tomorrow for Finland to achieve my Ph.D. at the University of Turku. I think it best we not see each other prior to my leaving."

"Tyson, I hope you're teasing me."

"You should know by now that I don't tease, Jo."

"You should know by now that we are to be married on Saturday."

"I'll be in Finland then."

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might shatter. It felt like the floor was falling out from under my feet.

"Wrap it up, Tyson. We have things to take care of." The voice In the background again.

"Give me a minute, Dad. Are you still there, Jo?"

I think the impact of what Tyson had said finally broached the credibility wall of my brain--I began to cry.

"I'm truly sorry. Everything is paid for, including the two weeks in the Dominican Republic. And," his voice lowered drastically, "I'll send a check to cover other stuff." Louder again. "I'd better be going."

My phone was back to the home screen. I watched it drop out of my hand to the floor.

I was right behind it, shaking.

The sobbing began.

The phone buzzed, and "The Fields of Athenry" began to play.

It was Tyson calling back to say he'd been joking. I blinked to clear my eyes. The name on the screen was Olesya Vasilyev.

I didn't want to talk to her or anyone. My world had just ended...with a telephone call.

The phone went silent, but only for a few seconds. The song began again.

I stared...and decided. I took a deep breath and answered.

The breath hadn't done any good as I gasped out, "Oh, Les."

"Jo, what's wrong? Are you crying?"

"Tyson," I mumbled. "No wedding."

A second's pause. "I'll be there in five minutes. DON'T YOU MOVE."

I was sitting on the floor, staring at the phone that had just undone my entire existence. Les was on the way, but I didn't know what I'd say to her after I told her...

I was sobbing again, gasping for breath, and was still doing it when Les burst through the front door.

I was wrapped up in a hug.

"Don't say anything, Jo. Take some deep breaths, then tell me what's going on. It sounded like you said, 'Tyson,' and 'no wedding.'"

Her words brought more sobs.

Les spent five minutes just talking softly--I can't remember anything of what she said as my mind was floating and speeding nearly incoherently.

The sobbing stopped, and I concentrated on taking the deep breaths that Les was encouraging. I knew I had to talk eventually.

She was looking at me, pain on her face, maybe my pain reflected on her. I didn't know.

"Can you talk to me now?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. But I'll try."

"Just go slowly, and stop if you need to. I've got plenty of time."

My phone buzzed, and the music played once again. Les grabbed it.

"It's Dean," she said.

"Ignore it." I didn't need to talk to any of Tyson's friends, even if they were sort of my friend too.

Ignoring me, Lis answered.

"What the hell do you want, Dean?"

She looked at me. "I don't know. Do you think that's a good idea?"

Les frowned. "Okay, then, I doubt it can make things any worse, and it might help."

"He's coming over, and Hillary is coming with him."

"How come?"

"He said there are things you need to know, not that it will change anything, but It might help."

Les jumped up and ran to the kitchen, returning with a box of tissues.

"Let me get a waste basket."

"Under the sink." While she was gone, I blew my nose. "Thanks, Les," I said, tossing the three wadded-up tissues into the basket.

"They should be here in about ten minutes."

"It's a good thing Hillary is coming. I'm still not sure about Dean."

"Before they get here, can you fill me in?"

"Tyson called and said the wedding is off. He's going to Finland to get a Ph.D."

"Finland? He's going to Finland?"

"He's leaving tomorrow. On my wedding day, our wedding day, he'll be in Finland, and there won't be a wedding."

The tears came again, but not nearly as bad this time. One tissue took care of it.

"That bastard," Les said, venom in her voice.

"I don't know what to call him. Just a few minutes ago, I loved him. At least, I thought I did."

"Is that all he said?"

"I'm not sure I remember. His father was talking in the background. He said we shouldn't see each other again and...and, oh, he kind of whispered that he'd send me a check to help cover things. And the...at least what was supposed to be our honeymoon is paid for. He said I should go ahead and go." I was shaking my head, remembering that.

"Dominican Republic."

I nodded.

"You should probably go."

I think my eyes were as wide as they could be. "Are you kidding?" I felt almost angry at that suggestion from Les.

"I mean it. It's paid for and, well, you know. It's a chance to get away by yourself, do a little thinking, and come back to...to move on."

I wasn't ready to move on. I was ready for a wedding that I had been planning for two months. Moving on wasn't in my plan. But maybe it was...or should be...or had to be.

A knock on the door brought me back.

"Where's your dad?" Les asked as she headed to the door.

"Asleep upstairs."

"We'll stay quiet, then."

Dean and Hillary came into the living room looking very subdued. I wasn't sure whether to say hello or just glare at them. Dean had been a good friend of Tyson's for several years and had been a friend of mine since I'd been dating Tyson. Hillary and Dean would be married eventually, and she was caught in the middle.

Dean looked from me to Les and back to me.

"Can I talk?"

"You'd better talk since you insisted on barging in."

I watched Hillary talk hold of Dean's arm, and it tore at my heart.

"Tyson told me what he'd done. If his father and mother weren't standing there nodding their heads, I'd have made him sorry he'd done it. The bastard. It's that damn father that's the cause of all the problems. I thought he might have grown up enough to be a man, but I was wrong."

"Go on," Les said, grabbing my hand."

"His dad thinks his shit doesn't stink. He, well--"

"--thinks that Prince Tyson is too good for the commoner, Joanne," Les interrupted.

Dean looked at me but didn't say anything. Finally, "None of them have morals or integrity. I'm sorry you had to be the victim of that."

I looked at the other three, pondering what Dean had said. I knew that falling in love with Tyson had probably blurred my view of things that surrounded me.

"If there's anything either of us can do, please let us know," Hillary said. "I guess we knew a little of what Tyson and his family were like but never dreamed he'd do something like this.

"Thank you."

"I just felt that I needed to tell you that, Jo. With any luck, Tyson will get terminal frostbite in Finland, and we'll never see any of them again. Hillary and I will get on our way." He kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my hand. Take good care of her, Les."

It was just Les and me again.

"You'll have to tell your father."

"What time is it?"

"Five after two."

"He'll be up at four. I'll tell him, I guess."

"Wait. I guess?"

I looked off, out one of the windows. I had to tell him.

"You're embarrassed, aren't you."

I felt a tear on my cheek. "Among other things. How could I have been so blind?"

"No, no, no, no. Don't you dare pull blame away from Tyson and put it on yourself." Les was right in my face.

I cringed. "I had to have some part in it."

"Your part was to be a sweet, kind, loving, and gullible partner to the selfish, devious, and totally self-centered pervert."

"Is that what I was, Les?"

"To some degree, yes."

Maybe she was right. Right now, I was confused and trembling.

"I'm going to stay here while you tell your dad. When he leaves for work, we'll go out and get something."

"No, Les. I don't want to go out."

"Trust me, okay."

Today, I wasn't sure I could trust anyone. My gut did a flip. This was Les, who I'd known and loved since kindergarten. If there was anyone I could trust... I reached out and hugged her.

"You tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

We were at Wendy's. Les wanted to take me to The Longhorn Steakhouse, but I'd convinced her my stomach wasn't up to that much food. Maybe a salad. I'd told Dad, and I'd never seen his face so red. He was infuriated that, after losing my mother two years ago, Tyson had inflicted me with this. I wasn't sure he'd accomplish much at work, but he went anyway.

I crunched a piece of tasteless lettuce, staring out the window, as Les picked up her single and fries.

"You ordered ranch, and if you'd put it on the salad, it might taste better."

Only her kind nature kept her from adding "stupid" to what she'd said. Her squeeze of my hand nearly brought more tears.

"You need to go, you know."

"Where?"

"The Dominican Republic."

"Les, that's out of the question. I can't go off by myself like that."

"Yes, you can. It's free. I bet it cost eight or ten thousand dollars, and you're just going to throw it away?"

Les was attacking my "frugal side." She knew how I hated to waste money. And I knew we'd have had to cancel the reservations a week ago to keep from losing it all. Still, it was to be my honeymoon, and I was sure that thought would cling to me for the entire two weeks.

"I don't think I can do it."

"I think that if I took your cute redhead ass to the airport and put you on the plane, you could do it." Les chuckled at her cleverness.

"That's just the physical part. It's the mental and emotional part I'm worried about."

"If you're worried about it, then you must be considering it."

"Les, you're twisting the words of a confused woman."

"I don't want to do that. I'm just telling you what I honestly think and feel."

"I know, and it's only you saying it that makes me even consider it."

"Keep considering, and picture how the two weeks will be if you stay here. Everyone you know stopping by to console you, with you repeating the story over and over."

"You're not very encouraging, Les. It sounds like my life will be a living hell no matter what I do."

"Not what I said, ma'am. I was describing you staying here. If you head off to the island, you're in charge of what happens."

"I thought I was in charge before."

"You still haven't put the ranch dressing on the salad."

"I think you're trying to control my whole life," I said, amazed at my feeble attempt at humor.

Les chuckled again. "I'll help you pack."

My turn to chuckle. I tore open the packet and squeezed the ranch dressing onto the salad. The bite I took tasted much better.

"What could I have done differently, Les?"

"Yeah, what could you have done differently?"

"I asked you first."

"So you're saying you did something wrong?"

"Or left something out."

"Not enough sex?" she asked, grinning broadly.

"Les!" I looked around, hoping no one had heard her.

"Listen to what I'm saying. You...did...nothing...wrong."

I just looked at her, wishing I could believe what she said. She could be right, I suppose, but I'd have to do more thinking about it. A review of the past two years. But Les wasn't waiting for me.

"Here's the plan. Tomorrow we turn off your phone for most of the day, and we hang out at a faraway mall, picking up a few things for your trip."

"Les, I haven't--"

"Shhh. Just listen. Saturday is packing day. Start thinking about what you want to take. It's two weeks, but I'm sure they have a laundry which will make it easier."

She sounded so sure and confident; I was having trouble arguing with her.

"Besides, you'll be spending most of your time on the beach in your bikini."

I snorted. "I don't have a bikini, smarty pants." I actually had one, but it was more of a two-piece than a bikini.

"You will after tomorrow."

"Les?"

I'm going to take you to your house, strip you naked, and make you look at yourself in the mirror."

My mouth was hanging open.

"What are you, five-three, and with a perfectly proportioned five-three figure? Bikinis were invented for people like you."

I don't know where Les was getting these ideas. She'd never talked like that before.

"Say that you're going, so I can finalize our plans."

Our plans. It sounded like Les was right there with me. I'm not sure many people have such a devoted friend. What else could I say?

"It may be the biggest mistake of my life, but I'll go. I don't know what else to do."

"It won't be a mistake, Jo. And when you get back, you won't be able to talk about anything else for a week."

"I hope you're right,"

*****

"So, how are you doing with the packing?"

I laughed. "I've packed, unpacked, repacked, de-packed, and stuffed things into my suitcase. I'm not sure what I'm doing or what I'll be doing, so I don't know what to do. I can't even make sense, can I? And now you're laughing at me."

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