Kissing Frogs - A Tropical Fairytale

Take me to the beach...

After dinner I join Harp and Juan by the pool. We lay on the hammocks, watching the last of the sunset. The sky is cotton candy pink tonight, the moon out and almost full.

"It gets dark so early here." Swaying, I can't help but wonder what Miles and everyone are doing right now.

"Sunrise at six thirty and sunset at six thirty," Juan calls from his hammock.

"It's kind of nice, you know?" Harp says, her hammock swinging evenly.

"What is?" I say, preoccupied. I really need to get a hold of Ky.

"Your body following the rhythms of the day, up with the sun and down with the sun."

"Just like Mother Nature intended," Juan says.

"Not too many people live like that." I think of the frenetic pace of life back home.

"Here, people work to live; there, we live to work," Juan says. "At least my mom and dad do."

"What do they do?" I ask.

"They're both lawyers," he says.

"Cool."

"Not really," he says from his hammock, face partially hidden. "I never see them."

"That's better than having them breathing down your neck every minute of every day," Harp says. "Mine are always asking me what I'm doing, where I'm going, what my plans are for the future. It never stops."

"At least they care," Juan says. "I'm not sure if my parents even know I'm in Panama right now."

"They don't know you went on a trip?" I ask, incredulous. My mom can be a superficial pain in the ass but at least she cares what continent I'm on.

"Nah, they probably know I'm off somewhere," he says, "just not what country."

"What about your parents?" Harp asks me.

"They're alright, I guess," I say. "Dad's pretty cool. He used to be a sociology professor at Seattle U."

"Nice," Juan says.

"Mom's a bit of a piece of work," I say, gently rocking in the cozy woven fabric.

"You guys fight a lot?" Harp says, picking up on my tone.

"Not really. More like, I don't know, growing up sometimes I felt like she was maybe a little jealous of my relationship with my dad." And Gigi.

I've never said that out loud before and wonder why I'm sharing these intimate details with virtual strangers. But something about Harp and Juan makes me feel comfortable, like I can tell them my secrets and not have to worry about them judging. "Mom's his second wife. He was married to his high school sweetheart before." I look up at the stars. "She was one of the youngest women in the country to earn a PhD in astrophysics. Then one night a drunk driver thought it made sense to cross over into their lane of traffic."

Harp and Juan are quiet.

"Dad escaped without a scratch but she was killed instantly. I think he was pretty broken up about it. He never talks about her." It's weird to think he'd had a whole other life before us. "Sometimes I think it bothers Mom a little. She takes very good care of herself. And by very, I mean weekly facials, hair appointments, spa retreats — she's into all that." She'd been much happier accompanying me to a mani-pedi than a spelling bee.

"That's shitty." Juan interrupts my thoughts. He lowers his foot down out of his hammock and pushes it off against the ground, making his hammock swing faster.