Summer Swap 6-4

Byron watched from across the island as Arlo slipped an egg in boiling water, suspending it on a large flat spoon, one hand jittering the pot handle, spinning a vortex in the center of the steaming water. The egg spun for a second, hovering in place like a UFO, the clear white going opaque in a second. He repeated the task with a second egg.

Sully said, “Man, I never get a poached egg right. I don’t know how you do it.”

“You have to have fresh eggs, Sully, my friend. These came from the island yesterday. Probably laid yesterday.”

Byron came around the island and sidled next to Sully, complaining. “What, he’s making you your own special breakfast?”

Sully looked at him, offended. “You ate my fucking french toast.” Then saying to Arlo, “The audacity...”

Arlo laughed along, eyes down and watching his own hands work, always at home and in control in a kitchen. Byron and Sully were mere observers.

But now, across in the lounge, abrupt movement caught his and Sully’s attention. Chey bolted up, standing over Scarlet who reclined away from her. Then Cheyenne stomped around the low table in front of the couches and made a beeline out of the lounge and down the hall where the suites were.

Byron muttered, “What the fuck was that?”

It looked like something went wrong, something bad was said, and Chey was mad and had stormed out. Lily and Scarlet sat on the couches still, Lily looking shocked, Scarlet looking morose.

As Byron eased off the counter, looking to follow after Chey and see if she was alright, Sully put his hand on his shoulder. “Hey, buddy, maybe let Scar handle it.”

Byron turned. “Handle what? What was that?”

“It’s nothing. We wondered, me and Scar, if it would be a big deal.”

“If what would be a big deal?”

Sully scrubbed his face, exhaling, then put his hands out behind him, leaning on the counter. “Uh, me and Scar didn’t go with Philippe and Paloma last night.”

“Yeah. Okay. Chey said something about that.”

“I’ll tell you later. Anyway, Chey was a bit jazzed up about you being with Carla.” He looked around to make sure Carla wasn’t listening in. Carla and Cody were together near the table.

Byron prompted him to continue. “Chey said she went to your guys’s room.”

“Yeah, we cheered her up. Cody was there. Nothing happened, I swear.”

“I know.”

“So, Chey left, she was brighter, happier, and didn’t want to be in bed with Cody. Or us.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, but after she left, uh, Cody... Hung around for awhile.”

“Oh,” Byron said, seeing the big deal. But smiling regardless. “Oh, I see.”

Arlo looked up from his work and showed them an amused expression like he wished he didn’t have to overhear this. They all snickered.

But now Byron saw the problem this created. He groaned and rubbed the heel of his hand into an eye socket. Across the way, Scarlet patted Lily’s knee. Lily still looked a little shook. Then Scar stood up and wandered out of the lounge, heading to the passageway that led to the suites.

Byron exhaled a long sigh of relief. “Oh thank god. I’m just going to let Scarlet deal with it.”

Lily sat alone now, her mouth working around, her brow lowered. Her eyes settled on Cody and she studied him through narrowed eyes.

Byron turned to the guys, saying, “Is it too early to start drinking?”

Sully said nothing, and immediately went to the far side of the counter and hefted up the big bottle of vodka, smiling ear to ear.

* * *

Arlo ladled the two poached eggs onto the homemade egg bread—leftover after the french toast—with flourish, then pressing the sharp edge of the spoon against one egg to break it, and prove to Byron and Sully it was poached to perfection. Sully brought his hands together in the attitude of prayer, placing the tips on his nose, closing his eyes, saying, “You’re the absolute fucking best, Arlo.”

A soft and familiar hand closed on his upper arm, and he turned to see his Lily smiling up at him. “What’s up, honey?”

She pouted and said, “I’m bo-ored,” doing it quietly to hide from Sully and Byron the childish tone to her voice.

“What can I do to cheer you up?” He cupped her cheek and thumbed her lower lip. Lily shied away, not always a big fan of public displays of affection, but still smiling, biting her lower lip now where he’d touched it. She looked around at Sully and Byron, Sully tucking into his poached eggs, and Byron sipping an early morning Screwdriver—vodka and OJ—looking out the kitchen window to the sea. It was weird to think his wife had helped Cheyenne shave Byron’s genitals last night. As much as they’d separated themselves from their friends antics—and been shielded from it by them, too—they were still enjoined. But Lily was paying no attention to Byron—she might have forgot all about it—saying now, “Well, the cleaners are coming today”—she checked to see if anyone could overhear her before adding: “Daddy.”

“Yes? What does my sugar plum want to do today?”

“Maybe take me for a ride on a jet ski?”

“How can I refuse such a polite little lady?”

They both snickered and got closer, leaning her elbows on the island counter. He did the same, the two of them looking at each other sideways.

Like a grownup, Lily said, “I want to go into town today. I want to go shopping.”

“We can do that. Sounds like fun.”

“Trust me,” Lily purred, hip-bumping him. “It’s going to be a lot of fun.”

* * *

Didn’t even knock, just entered Cheyenne’s suite, opening the door and walking in. Chey lay on the bed, shocked Scarlet would just walk in on her. She said, “I could be naked.”

Scarlet said, “First of all, you knew Cody was in our bed, so why don’t you think he just fell asleep there?”

Chey sat up. “Did he just sleep there?”

“What does it matter, Chey?”

Knowing there was no defense, Chey just muttered and shook her head like she was defeated.

“You were doing so good, sweetheart. You did great last night.”

“So, what, I’m not doing good now?”

Scarlet tried not to laugh, looking at her friend trying to defend her jealous and petulant behavior, sitting there with a snarky look and a held out hand. “You just stormed off for no reason and made me look stupid, and made Lily uncomfortable.”

Chey scoffed and shook her head again. “Well, that wasn’t my intent.”

“You had no intent,” Scarlet said. “Just a knee-jerk reaction. But it’s one that would take a lot of explanation. Like, you’d be mad if I slept with Cody?”

Chey looked at her like of course she’d be mad, but didn’t say anything because being mad would be ridiculous. Then she submitted, her tense features loosening past neutral and somewhere nearer to glum. “Did you?”

“Did I what, Chey? Sleep with Cody?”

Cheyenne looked up at the ceiling, wanting to fight or argue but knew it would be a losing battle, knew she had no coherent defense. Then: “Yeah. Did you?”

Scarlet entered the room, closing the door behind her, then moving to sit next to Chey. Very serious and sober now, she said, “Why on earth would it matter to you?”

“Why are you being so cruel?”

“I’m not being cruel. Why would you say that?”

“You’re trying to humiliate me, make me say my feelings out loud so you can make fun of them and then show me how dumb I am for thinking that way.”

Scarlet nodded, took a beat to think about it. “I guess I was kind of doing that.”

“I know it’s stupid to feel this way. Now: did you sleep with Cody or not?”

Scarlet took a big breath and let it out. “No. I didn’t.”

“If you did you probably wouldn’t come in here because you’d know it was wrong.”

“To sleep with him? How is it wrong?”

“You’ve got your guy, Sully has his girl—”

“What, Paloma’s his girl? Don’t make me laugh.”

“You know what I’m saying. Cody is—”

“Sully’s my husband. He doesn’t have a girl. I don’t have a guy. I have Sully. Sully has me. Philippe’s fun. We had a good time together. But he’s not my guy.”

Cheyenne made a frustrated sound and got off the bed, turned to say, “What about the audition stuff we talked about?”

“That this is an audition, this yacht vacation?”

“Yeah. Don’t you see it?”

“See what, Chey?”

Chey stabbed hands towards her. “That they want something from us.”

“Yeah. Sex! We’ve been giving it. And getting it, if you ask me.”

“And what about a polycule?”

“What about it?”

“What’s that? Is that sex?”

“I don’t know.”

“They want commitment, Scarlet. They don’t want loosey-goosey sexual free-for-all.”

Scarlet raised her eyebrows, offended. “That’s what you’re saying I am?”

“Look who’s defensive now.”

Scarlet folded her arms and crossed her legs, one leg jumping up and down out of anger and frustration. She said, “It’s Philippe and Paloma who are in the polycule. Not Cody and Carla.”

Cheyenne chuckled. “Right. Just Paloma and Philippe.”

Scarlet looked up, confused. “You don’t think it is?”

“You don’t think Cody and Carla are in the polycule? . . . They’re partitioning us. Cody and Carla want me and Byron, and you can surmise the rest.”

“No, that’s bullshit, Chey.”

“How do you know?”

“I didn’t sleep with Cody last night, but it’s not like nothing happened. And whatever happened, Cody was all for it. He’s the one who stayed in our bed. We didn’t ask him to stay, Cheyenne.”

Chey looked angrier, turned away and crossed her own arms, pacing to the door before turning around to say, “You said you didn’t sleep with him, but now you’re saying something happened. But you’re saying it now to win an argument, to hurt my feelings. Is it true? . . . Were you sparing my feelings before by saying nothing happened or are you trying to hurt my feelings now by saying something did happen?”

“Chey, you’re jealous over a married man and you’re married.” She jabbed a thumb at her own chest. “And I’m married!”

“Who says I’m jealous over Cody? I’m more jealous of Byron and Carla than I am of you and Cody, Scarlet. What gets me worked up is there has to be rules if we’re going to do this and you’re over in your play area with crayons everywhere and you’re just coloring outside of all the lines. You don’t even care.”

“Then who are you to consider for a second anyone would choose you for a polycule if you can’t control your jealousy?”

Chey looked suddenly grim and green and her mouth tightened. She said, “You didn’t see what I saw last night, Scarlet.”

She rolled her eyes. “What did you see?”

“Like I’m going to tell you,” Chey muttered and turned away.

“Just tell me,” she said and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Chey turned back. “You first. You tell me. Tell me what you did with Cody.”

Scarlet put up her hands in surrender, surprised how much anger this argument had produced, feeling it in her high heart rate and her throbbing temples and her hot temper kind of looking forward to a fight. She sat down and said, “Okay, here’s what happened...”