Mine Are Spectacular! by Janice Kaplan

got here. Annoying, really. I’d just slathered myself in Bain de Soleil SPF ninety-eight so we could go to the beach. Instead, he was on his way to the airport.”
    I don’t know what could have sent Owen to the airport, but at least I understand how Kate maintains her perfectly smooth skin—super-strength sun protection in a number high enough to be a basketball score. Though come to think of it, Kate used to have cute freckles sprinkled across her nose. She must have zapped them away when they went out of style. But what if they come back in vogue? After all, nothing stays chic for more than a nanosecond. Wax your eyebrows into a fashionably thin line and suddenly
Elle
declares bushy is back. Finally start drinking Bellinis and everybody’s switched to ginger daiquiris. Suffer through eight hours of Japanese hair straightening and you can almost guarantee the return of the Afro.
    â€œOwen left? How come?” I ask, getting myself back on track. “Something happen?”
    â€œHis wife called,” Kate says grumpily. “She cut short her weekend at Canyon Ranch and had to come home immediately because she’d had an allergic reaction to an apple-and-oatmeal scrub facial.” Kate pauses and adds snidely, “Apparently ‘natural’ doesn’t agree with her.”
    I ponder what Owen the real estate mogul can do about an allergic reaction to a facial. Bring roses? It might have been better if Doctor Kate had gone. But then again, maybe not. There must be some AMA regulation against a doctor treating her lover’s wife. I think it may even be covered under the Geneva Convention.
    â€œWhat are you going to do in Tortola for the rest of the weekend?” I ask.
    â€œFollow Owen’s advice. Stay in our luxurious cottage by the ocean, order margaritas, and damn well enjoy myself,” Kate says firmly.
    I bite my tongue. This is not the time to point out the disadvantages of having a married lover. The words “I told you so” will never cross my lips.
    Next to me, Bradford, still half asleep, starts making small circles on my thigh, and I stroke his cheek and gaze at him appreciatively. He pulls his whole body closer to mine.
    â€œSo here’s my great idea,” Kate continues. “Why don’t you fly down for the weekend and join me? You’ve always said you want to learn how to windsurf. This is your chance.”
    Bradford, now more awake, is playing with my hair and softly kissing my shoulder. I stir as his warm lips move sweetly across my neck.
    â€œI can’t get away,” I say, thinking about my weekend plans with Bradford. And what appears to be Bradford’s more immediate plan for the proverbial roll in the hay. I’m not passing that up for a roll in the surf.
    â€œToo bad,” Kate says. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you?”
    I put my arm around Bradford’s waist and stay mum about what’s really tempting me.
    â€œI almost forgot to tell you,” I say instead. “Berni and Aidan called. They finally delivered the twins. Aidan’s a little hungry, but everybody’s healthy and doing well.”
    â€œGood for them,” Kate says. Then she immediately comes up with a new brainstorm. “If she’s done delivering, maybe Berni’d like to join me. She could probably use a weekend at the beach.”
    â€œShe probably could, but the doctor said no windsurfing for another twenty-four hours.” I laugh. “Then there’s the whole problem about being around to breast-feed.”
    â€œShe could bring the babies,” Kate suggests, ever flexible. But even she doesn’t sound convinced.
    â€œMaybe the twins should leave the hospital in a stroller, not a 757,” I say.
    Kate sighs. “Doesn’t matter. I know how to spend a weekend on my own. I’ll just enjoy my one hundred hours of solitude. Maybe I’ll write a book about it.”
    Worse things can