American Vacanza

quite the emotional rollercoaster • siena

The Palati Chicago deserved every single one of its 4.7 Yelp stars. From the marble-filled lobby to the the skylights in our Presidential Suite, every square foot of it was, in a word, perfect.

Waking up there, swaddled in a down comforter that must have been made of pure cotton candy, was nothing like I'd had on this trip. We'd been stopping at dingy motels and at best, a Holiday Inn or Best Western. Maybe if we'd had this type of five-star treatment there, I would've been a lot less cranky.

I rolled over in bed, a ray of sunlight filtering through the panoramic windows. It was like an HD mural, with such intricately painted details. But no, it was all real; the people bustling along Michigan Avenue, the diamonds reflecting off the crystalline lake, every little yellow taxi prattling around- they were all 100% real, and 100% beautiful.

Was I really marvelling at tiny things like this? God, how long had we been away from civilization?

"Siena! Get out of bed!" Madison cried, thrusting open the pure white double doors to my own private room. "It's time for the ceremonial throwing of Ethan's bag off the balcony!"

It's as only eight o'clock, and we'd gotten to the hotel at midnight last night. "Wait, what?" I asked. "You stole Ethan's bag?"

"I didn't steal it, per se. He left it in the trunk when we went to Aunt Eleanor's, and when we sped off without him I didn't bother to give it back. There's a lot of incriminating stuff in there." She wiggled her eyes suggestively, thinking that would get me to roll out of this heavenly bed.

"Ten more minutes," I grumbled, turning inward to face the center of the king bed. "I haven't had a good night's sleep since we left California."

"Well, do you want to see a picture of the girl Ethan was cheating on me with?"

I sat up in bed, white sheets and covers going every which way. "What!?"

"I took a peek. You won't believe it; he kept it in his wallet." She shrugged like this was no big deal. Maybe for her it wasn't. Maybe Ethan had hurt her so bad, this seemed normal.

"Seriously?"

"Well, I caught him kissing another girl at a party and really flipped out on him, and he promised he'd never do that again. That's another reason - you know, besides the obvious forcing his tongue down your throat - that I got mad at him that time at the ski place"

Ah, yes. The dramatic events of that evening at the Doubleside Ski Resort And Lodge. "So you knew he had cheating tendencies, and you still stayed with him? Wow." I stretched my legs and rolled out of bed, itching to see what was in the treasure trove of Ethan's duffel bag. "Do you think he kept in touch with her?"

I don't know, but if he did, that idiot's going to get a lot more than the cold shoulder when we get back to San Francisco." She clenched her fist, something she only did when she was really mad. "But let's explore, shall we?"

She brought his fat, navy blue bag into the room and plopped it on my bed; she was so nice, knowing that I was too lazy to get up. "Okay," I said, unzipping the bag, "what do we have here?"

"Let's make two piles," Madison instructed. "One for stuff that's not important, like his shirts, and two for things like a picture of his side chick." Her eyes lit up maliciously. "Then we'll decide what to do with the good stuff."

"Okay," I replied, digging my hands into the bag as fast as I could. I was visually impaired without my glasses, which were on the tabletop in the other part of our suite, but I could see the general shapes of most things. My hand landed on a small Ziploc bag, no more than a few inches. But I couldn't read the print on it. "Madison, what's this?"