The Bee Sting

On an especially hot summer day, I sat and sipped fruity drinks with a gorgeous friend. It was one of those summer days where the sweat beaded on your forehead before you even managed to dry yourself off from a shower. The kind of day that you don't even bother to dry your hair or apply any make-up if you wore it.

My heart was jagged and aching from a recent break up and my friend, Camilla, was here to help soothe the charred edges of my broken heart.
I admired her. I always had. We'd only known one another for a handful of years but it seemed we'd lived lifetimes together. She was the strong one. Nothing ever seemed to keep her down for too long--her life force simply wouldn't allow it. While I lay in bed sobbing for days and was inclined to hysterical outbursts over the loss of a man--Camilla was the opposite. She'd ruminate for a day or two drinking wine and listening to Patsy Cline and then buy a plane ticket to somewhere and disappear for a week or two only to return with wild and funny stories.......laughing and looking like a new woman.
Not me, I let every little set back keep me in a state of perpetual worry and sensitive emotion. I was a wimp.
Being in Camilla's presence always kept me hopeful that some of her vibrancy and moxy would rub off on me just by shear happenstance.

The sun shone hot on the deck and we sipped ( I gulped) our strawberry fruity vodka cocktails as she let me whine and winny over Paul, my ex. Silly me saw an ocean in him where there was only a puddle.
Camilla leaned over to kiss my damp forehead and got up to refill our glasses, her eyes sparkling but concerned for her blubbering friend. Just as she leaned in to kiss my forehead a yellow jacket stung her cheek and she yelped and jumped back knocking down a few potted ferns on the deck floor. Her cheek began to redden and swell as I dipped my hands into our glasses for an ice cube for her cheek. She did a funny little jumping dance as she pressed the ice to her cheek and began to laugh, fern fronds and clay pots everywhere.

We both laughed uproariously at the whole scene. Red strawberry juice all over her t-shirt, her puffy red cheek, the funny hopping dance that ensued and the son of a bitch bee still lodged in her cheek stinger and all......fern fronds sticking to her bum.

Nothing stopped Camilla. Not anything at all.





CJ Ellis