How Stella Got Her Groove Back Read Online Free PDF Page A

everybody, so I can lie on the beach and read and chill out without being distracted. If I went with somebody I’d have to negotiate with them about what we’re going to do each and every day, and if I don’t want to do what they want to do then there’ll be tension and I’ll spend my vacation compromising and I do enough of that at home and at work and for the first time in years I feel like being totally selfish.”
    “I think it’s ridiculous. Even though I’m four months pregnant and might not be much fun I’d be happy to go with you and you could do whatever you wanted to do.”
    “I told you I don’t want any company.”
    “When are you leaving?”
    “Wednesday.”
    “Wednesday? Today is already Sunday!”
    “I know it. That’s why I’m on my way to get some new rags.”
    “What about Quincy? What if something happens to him while he’s with his dad and you’re not even in the United States of America?”
    “Bite it, Angela. This is the first time I’ve taken a vacation without Quincy in six years and it’s the first time I’ve done anything this spontaneous in about a hundred. His daddy hasn’t exactly jumped over any hurdles trying to get here when Quincy’s been sick. I’ve handled it. Now it’s his turn. I’ll leave him a number, Angela. Damn. It’s also the reason why God invented airplanes. Six hours is all it takes.”
    “Where exactly are you going?”
    “Negril.”
    “I heard about that place. Nothing but freaks go there.”
    “That’s only one hotel.”
    “Called Hedonistic or something.”
    “Yep. But I’m staying right across the street, at the Castle Beach Negril.”
    “I heard all the beaches are nude down there. That nobody wears any clothes. What are you gonna do? Join in?”
    “They have a clothing-optional beach which is completely separate, and hey, if I feel like getting naked, you’ll never know, now will you?”
    “When did you decide to do all this? I just talked to you a few days ago and you didn’t mention anything about needing any vacation. Quincy hasn’t even adjusted to the altitude yet and you’re already making dust tracks of your own?”
    “I’m not listening to you, Angela, okay? After I dropped him off I came home with a gazillion things on my to-do list and it hit me that for the past six summers Quincy has gone to camp for two weeks and all I do is stay home and work my butt off. I also remember when he was born and when I put him down for his nap I’d jump up and start cleaning or something. That’s when I remembered Mama’s advice about babies: when they take a nap, you take one too otherwise you’ll be burned out. So yesterday afternoon I sort of got pissed at myself for trying to do too much all the time and so when this commercial came on TV about Jamaica it was so seductive I called my travel agent immediately and ironically enough she had just come back from Negril herself and she told me that since I was going by myself the classiest place to stay was the Castle Beach because everything is included—drinks, water sports, meals—and there’s no tipping so I told her to book me a first-class ticket as soon as she could like today if possible before I came to my senses and started acting like the responsible adult that I’ve been for the last twenty years and I told her I didn’t care how much the shit cost don’t even tell me just put it on my American Express card and I told her I’d pick the tickets up as soon as she called to tell me it was a done deal.”
    “When are you getting them?”
    “They’re on my dresser right now.”
    “What about your passport?”
    “My picture’s about six years old and I look fabulous if I do say so myself. My hairstyle is weak but I think that was when me and Quincy left Walter at home and went to Australia, remember?”
    “Yeah. Don’t you think Quincy would like to see Jamaica? Why can’t you wait until he gets back?”
    “You’re not listening to me, Mrs. Cleaver. Read my