Dearly Departing

in the buffet restaurant a few minutes later. Charlie was working on a second helping of grilled chicken and mashed potatoes. Calvin had already finished desert and was drinking coffee and red wine.
“About time you guys showed up,” Charlie said.
Ray sat next to Calvin without saying a word and started eating his supper.
“Don’t mind us,” Dooley said. “We’re already half lit.”
Calvin Riese grabbed Ray’s shoulder and gave it a friendly shake. “Glad to hear it. We’re going to have a great last night, boys.”
Ray chewed on his pork chop and watched the never-ending stream of hotel guests as they lined up along the serving stations. The buffet started at six-thirty in the evening and continued until ten. The line never thinned out. People would pile large amounts of food on their plates, eat half of it, and jump back in for more of the tastier dishes. It never ceased to amaze him the amount of waste these travelers from all over the world could produce. The cooks, servers, and waitresses undoubtedly saw it as well. The Dominican staff were hard-working, patient, and friendly to all their guests, though they probably earned less than a tenth and consumed far less.
 Why do they put up with us?
“Ray! Have you zoned out again, bud?”
“Huh?” He lowered the fork with its piece of meat still stuck to the prongs onto his plate.
Charlie leaned across and snapped his fingers in front of Ray’s face. “Are you going to finish that? The rest of us were done over ten minutes ago. It’s time to head to the bar.”
He looked down at his unfinished meal. “No, I’m not all that hungry, I guess. Too much beer.”
I’m no better than anyone else here.
They left the buffet and wandered out into the night. Ray would miss this part of the trip. The warm evenings, the long walks through the immaculate grounds, and the feel of the ocean breeze as it rustled through the palm fronds and passed gently over his face. They stopped in at a line of resort shops and did some hurried shopping for family and friends back home. Calvin treated the other three to some expensive cigars. The four men lit up and continued walking.
“I’m getting laid tonight,” Charlie said.
“You’ve said that every night since we got here,” Dooley replied.
“And it came true three out of six nights. If I score tonight, I’ll be batting a better than five-hundred average.”
Ray wanted to say something, but kept his mouth shut. Calvin spoke up instead. “Crawling back into our room after three in the morning hasn’t been the highlight of my vacation.” He took a few big puffs from his Monte Cristo and blew the smoke in Charlie’s face. “What’s really pissed me off is your total disregard for communicable disease. You’re a doctor, for Christ’s sake. I would expect someone in your position to behave a little more professionally.”
“It’s not like I’m being unsafe. I use protection.”
Dooley asked. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”
“Jessica’s a girl, and she’s a friend. We’re not engaged or anything.”
Calvin was shaking his head. “You’re a whore, Charlie, admit it.”
“This coming from a married guy. Why don’t you admit it—if that wedding ring wasn’t stuck on your fat finger, you’d be sniffing around, too.”
Ray wasn’t a violent man, but he had the sudden strong urge to grab Charlie by the back of his scrawny neck and drive the man’s face into a palm tree. He was a doctor, and he should’ve known better. It was guys just like Charlie Riese that ended up stealing wives away from guys like Ray Wallace.
Ray didn’t strike out at his friend. He remained silent and smoked his cigar, listening to the other three argue all the way to the bar. It was almost full by the time they got there. They found a table still dirty with empty glasses from the last occupants and sat down. A pretty waitress somewhere between thirty and forty years of age wearing a short black dress spotted them a minute later and came to clear the table away.
“Buenos nachos, amigos.” She picked up the glasses and over-flowing ashtray in one smooth move and wiped the surface clean. She pointed to each of them in turn. “Rum and Coke, cerveza, cerveza, and red wine.” The wine was for Ray. He enjoyed a glass or two after meals and had no stomach for hard liquor.
Charlie took the girl’s hand and kissed the back of it. “Marta, you’re an angel. How do you remember everything everyone drinks night after night?”
She pulled her hand away gently and slipped the five-dollar bill Calvin had placed on the table. “Because you Canadians drink like fish, how could anyone forget?”
They all laughed and Marta winked. “Back in a jeffy.”
Dooley laughed even harder. “A jiffy.”
Marta shrugged. “You see? My memory not so good speaking English.”
Charlie lit a cigarette and left it to smoulder in the ashtray. Calvin pushed it back towards him. “Promiscuous and a smoker. Hardly the ideal doctor-type I had in mind when I hired you.”
The old argument started up again. Dooley grinned at Ray and the two friends toasted each other when their drinks arrived. It went on like that for another hour or two. The wine was taking effect, fuzzing the front of Ray’s head and making his ears hot. The lobby bar was packed and too loud. The air was filled with smoke and the smell of cheap aftershave and perfume. Young bodies were grinding up against him, chairs were bumping into him from behind.
Ray downed the rest of his wine and stood. “I need some fresh air.” Dooley saluted him and ordered another round of drinks. Calvin was yelling at Charlie, but Charlie wasn’t paying much attention. The doctor’s hands were filled with the young Russian girl sitting on his lap.