It Happened in Saint Thomas
by
Trigudis
The following story takes place a few years before Covid hit and also before Washington D.C.'s NFL football team dropped the Redskins name.
Saint Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands. Hannah Gerber had thought about vacationing there but never got around to it until Kaleigh Conroy, her good friend since high school, invited her to her wedding. It was one of those destination weddings, one that would take her from her home in Maryland to what she had heard was some sort of tropical paradise. Hannah had never been south of Miami Beach.
Hannah and Kaleigh were two members of the "troop," the name this group of millennial girls from the Washington D.C suburbs called themselves in high school. They hung together on weekends, shopping at the mall, doing sleepovers, talking for hours on Facebook and their cell phones and sharing information on their love life. After college, as they drifted into their twenties, they'd speculate on who would be the first among them to marry. Kaleigh had always thought that Hannah would tie the knot before she for at least two reasons. One, she was very pretty. She stood around five-foot-eight, with thick, dark brown, wavy hair, its length varying with her mood. Her brown eyes were "too beautiful for makeup," a girlfriend once told her. No skin is perfect, but Hannah's came close, blemish-free, with coloring somewhere between pasty white and olive. She had always struggled with her weight. That is, until recently when she finally made peace with her body type--voluptuous, in the mold of the late Anna Nicole Smith (before Anna Nicole slimmed down). She'd never look like skinny Kaleigh, but then, so what? Lots of men went wild for women with Rubenesque proportions. In fact, enough did to where Hannah never lacked for dates, which was another reason that Kaleigh had said, "You'll find Mr. Right before me."
While packing her luggage for the trip, Hannah smiled to herself thinking back on those discussions. Yes, she used to date a lot but so far, she had yet to find her so-called Mr. Right. She was hardly desperate, not at age twenty-five, and not when she was busy with a lucrative career. Her parents were grooming her to take over the Paramount Craft Festival, the family business that her parents started when they were Hannah's age and one that had made the family multi-millionaires. Besides, she wasn't sure if she even wanted to make a lifetime commitment to anyone. Marriage, kids, a four-bedroom, three-bath split-level in the burbs--it didn't sound like her thing at this time in her life. She wasn't averse to relationships; she'd had her share in high school and beyond. Right now, she considered herself single. Single and horny. It had been awhile.
She looked forward to this trip. It was late October and already she missed the warm beaches of Ocean City. It was in the eighties in Saint Thomas. It was also hurricane season. So far, the forecast looked good for her four-day reservation. Many of the troop girls would be there, girls she had kept in touch with but hadn't seen for a while, save for their pics on Facebook. She also looked forward to meeting Peter Bedingfield, Kaleigh's fiancé. She knew little about him other than he managed a hedge fund and, like Kaleigh, he was athletic. She knew Jill, Kaleigh's mom, but she had never met Craig, her dad. The two had been divorced for years. Jill had remarried, while Craig had remained single. According to Kaleigh, Craig and Jill, while not exactly friends, had remained civil toward one another. Both would be at the wedding, including Jill's number two.
*****
It was afternoon when Hannah arrived at Cyril E. King Airport three and a half hours after leaving Baltimore-Washington International. Then she hopped a cab over to a noted Sugar Bay resort. From the looks of the lobby alone, she could see that Kaleigh and her fiancé had picked a nice place. It was a vast space, with marble floors, a high ceiling and white columns that stretched to a balcony that ran the length of the first floor of rooms. Ceiling fans whirred away.
Just moments after stepping into the lobby, she spotted Monica Pearlman, another troop member, the "free-spirit among us," as Kaleigh once described her. Fair complected with shoulder-length, strawberry blond hair, Monica did things like cycle across the country to Mexico and then on to Central America. She worked a year or two at a job, saved money, then took off. Guys loved her cute, Mid-Western, farmer's daughter looks, but none of them could ever tie her down into something long-term.
The women hugged, then traded updates on their lives, before they parted to settle into their rooms. Hannah wasn't disappointed when she entered. Besides a thick, champagne color carpet that covered the floor, she got a queen-sized bed and comfortable furniture that included a chair and loveseat, both held together with frames made of bamboo. Best of all was the bay-view she got through her sliding glass doors that opened to a small balcony. "Now this I wouldn't mind waking up to every day," she said out loud, gazing at the clean, white beach, deep blue water and other greenish islands of the U.S. Virgin Island group beyond.
She began to unpack when she heard a knock on her door. It was none other than the soon-to-be married trooper herself, Kaleigh Conroy. "Just checking on my guests," she said. "How was your flight?"
"Comfortable, with no mishaps, thank God," Hannah said. She noted Kaleigh's casual attire, white jeans, a light pull-over and sandals, and then tried to picture her in a wedding gown. No one would mistake the women for twins. Kaleigh stood a couple inches below Hannah. She was sinewy, even muscular in the way that female runners such as Kaleigh tended to be. She had low bodyfat--there were no voluptuous, Hannah-like curves on this girl. Her dirty-blond hair hung below her shoulders as she stood in the doorway, talking to her friend about the wedding, scheduled for tomorrow.
"Both my parents are here," Kaleigh said, rolling her eyes and turning her full mouth into a mock grimace, though Hannah thought there was more than a grain of worry in her expression.
"Well, they get along, don't they?" she asked. "At least that's what you told me."
"Yeah, more or less, and I'm sure things will go okay," Kaleigh said. "But mom's bringing her husband and dad's coming alone. It could be like, awkward for both of them, especially my dad. I kind of feel bad for him that he's not with anyone."
Hannah put a reassuring hand on her friend's shoulder. "I get it. But I'm looking forward to meeting your dad. Your mom I've known for years."
"Maybe you can be his date," Kaleigh said, grinning wide enough for her dimples to show. "I mean, neither one of you is seeing someone at the moment."
Hannah went along with the joke. "Sure, send him around. Is he interested in crafts?"
"No, but knowing the football fan that he is, and the fan that I know you are, you two should hit it off right away."
They had a good laugh. Then Kaleigh asked if Hannah was going to be at tonight's planned happy hour in the lounge. "Absolutely," she said. "I'm looking forward to reconnecting with some of the troopers I haven't seen in a while. And I could also go for a Margarita."
*****
A couple hours, a shower and a brief nap later, Hannah stood in front of a full-length mirror in her room for some last-minute primping. She wore a mauve dress hemmed just above her thick knees and low heels. The heels enhanced the beautiful taper in her full, shapely calves. She had been unusually fussy about her hair because she knew that some of Peter Bedingfield's single friends would be there. She wasn't actively looking for a hookup, though she wouldn't turn one down for the "right" guy, and hoped that said guy would like the way she styled her full, wavy locks. Parted a tad left of center, her hair fell to the tops of her boobs, curling at the ends.
Leaving her room, she descended a flight of stairs, stepped into the lobby, then entered the hallway which led to the lounge, a posh, dimly lit space with wood ceiling rafters and a half circular bar, trimmed in marble. Overhead racks held rows of empty glasses and a bar-length mirror hung on the rear wall. A dozen chairs, upholstered in fine leather, lined the bar. However, only a few people were seated. Most were standing, engaged in conversation, petting their drinks. Hannah stepped up to the bar to get her Margarita. While waiting, she chatted with Wendy Greene, another troop member. The two had kept in touch on Facebook, so neither held any surprises for the other.
Moments later, she spotted Kaleigh's mom, and came over to say hello. Jill Compton, nee' Conroy, nee' Robinson, was in her late forties, about the same age as Craig Conroy, her ex. Jill said it was nice to see her, asked about Paramount Crafts and then introduced her to Bradley, her hubby number two. "Guess you never met Brad," Jill said, "but then I don't think you've ever met my ex either."
"No, never have," Hannah said.
Jill looked around. "Well, I just saw him about a minute ago."
Just then, Kaleigh came up to her, dressed in what she wore hours earlier. "Hannah, this is Peter, my soon to be husband. Peter, this is Hannah, another trooper for life."
