The Choice - Nicholas Sparks [43]
“I’m on vacation, so I feel no need to volunteer my services,” Stephanie announced, her body as still as the boat itself. “And they’re so good at it, I feel no guilt about being a slacker.”
“You’re not a slacker.”
“Of course I am. Everyone should be a slacker now and then. As Confucius once said, ‘He who does nothing is the one who does nothing.’”
Gabby pondered the words, then furrowed her brow. “Did Confucius really say that?”
Sunglasses in place, Stephanie managed the tiniest of shrugs. “No, but who cares? The point is, they had it handled, and most likely they found some sort of self-satisfaction in their industriousness. Who am I to deprive them of that?”
Gabby put her hands on her hips. “Or maybe you just wanted to be lazy.”
Stephanie grinned. “Like Jesus said, ‘Blessed are the lazy who lie in boats, for they shall inherit a suntan.’”
“Jesus didn’t say that.”
“True,” Stephanie agreed, sitting up. She removed her glasses, stared through them, then wiped them on a towel. “But again, who cares?” She squinted up at Gabby. “Did you really want to carry coolers or tents all the way to the beach? Trust me, the experience is overrated.” After adjusting her top, she rose from her spot. “Okay, the coast is clear. We’re good to go.” She slung her beach bag over her shoulder. “You gotta know when to be lazy. Done correctly, it’s an art form that benefits everyone.”
Gabby hesitated. “I don’t know why, but I think I like the way you think.”
Stephanie laughed. “Of course you do,” she said. “It’s human nature to be lazy. But it’s good to know I’m not the only one who understands that essential truth.”
As soon as Gabby started to deny it, Stephanie jumped overboard, the splash rising to the lip of the boat. “C’mon,” she said, not letting Gabby finish, “I’m just kidding. And by the way, don’t think twice about anything you did or didn’t do. Like I said, these people draw meaning from doing these little things. It makes them feel manly and motherly, which is just the way the world should work. As single women, all we have to do is make sure to enjoy it.”
Setting up the camp—like getting off and unloading the boat—was informally ritualized, with everyone apparently knowing exactly what to do. A pop-up tent was set in place, blankets spread, and the charcoal lit. In keeping with her inactivity on the boat, Stephanie simply grabbed a beer and a towel, picked a spot, and resumed sunbathing. Gabby, unsure of what else to do, spread her towel and did exactly the same thing. She felt the effects of the sun almost immediately and lay there trying to ignore the fact that everyone else—aside from Stephanie—seemed to be doing something.
“You need lotion,” Stephanie instructed her. Without raising her head, she pointed to the bag she’d carried with her. “Grab the tube with fifty SPF. With that pale skin of yours, you’ll be a lobster in half an hour if you don’t. It’s got zinc in it.”
Gabby reached for Stephanie’s bag. She took a few moments to spread the lotion; the sun did have a terrible way of punishing her if she missed a spot. Unlike her sisters or her mother, she’d taken after her Irish-skinned father. It was one of the middling curses of her life.
When she was ready, she lay down on her towel, still feeling guilty about the fact that she wasn’t doing anything to help set up or get the lunch ready to go.
“How was it with Travis?”
“Fine,” Gabby said.
“Just to remind you, he’s my brother, you know.”
Gabby turned her head to shoot Stephanie a questioning look.
“Hey,” said Stephanie, “I was only reminding you so that you’d realize how well I know him.”
“What does that matter?”
“I think he likes you.”
“And I think you believe we’re still in seventh grade.”
“What? You don’t care?”
“No.”
“Because you have a boyfriend?