Chapter Six

"Que?"

"I got married!!!"

"Estas loco!?!" Sandrine shot up out of her chair. "You met este campesino just yesterday, you don't show up for work this morning, and when you do drag yourself in -- clearly wearing yesterday's clothes -- you tell me not only did you spend the night drinking with him, but you married him?"

"He's no peasant," Susan shot back. "Rich has a college education, very good leadership and above-average courage. He saved me from a tarantula last night!"

"You needed someone to save you from the Tarantula Fizzlers," Sandrine retorted. "Do you think just because you have one night, however magical that night may have been, that you can build a whole life with the man?"

"You're the one who told me to open my eyes to the possibilities."

"Ay de mi," Sandrine sighed. "I meant you should open yourself up to new experiences, meet new people, not marry the first man you sleep with!"

"I haven't!" Susan's eyes flashed cold fire. "Rich is a gentleman. And you know I wouldn't do such a thing! Take it back!"

"Lo siento, lo lamento," she replied. "I do know you. But I do not know this Rich, so I do not trust him. Such a quick wedding... it sets off mi alarmas."

"Well, you don't have to worry. I'm an adult, not su nina."

"But, chica... how do you know if you are even compatible? Americans are loud and brash, all they love is money."

"Now who's judging people before they meet them?"

"Touche," Sandrine admitted, slipping for a moment back into her native French. "You know all I want for you is happiness. But you've only had one night together. If you haven't made love, you don't even know yet if you're compatible physically."

"A minute ago, you accused me of yielding to him too early, now you're saying I should have," Susan cried, stomping over to the door. "Well, we'll find out if we're 'physically compatible' or not soon enough. He's coming over after work today to pick up my things and move me into his place. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to check... something on the other side of the plant."

"Why does he want you to move out? You live in one of the highest-quality homes on Tropico!" Sandrine called as the door slammed closed, leaving her alone with the humming and buzzing machinery of the power plant's control room.

"Sandrine, tu estas estupido," she lamented. "You should have just told her you were happy."

To Be Continued