“Death Valley Hiking Trip,” he said, looking at the next line. Gamay’s choice. He looked at her. “Death Valley?” he said. “Nope, that’s a little grim, don’t you think?”
“Oh come on,” Gamay protested. “It’s beautiful there.”
“Yes,” Joe said. He raised his arms as if he’d won.
“Hold on there, partner,” Kurt said. “I’m not sure the Gobi Desert even counts as a vacation spot.”
“Sure it does,” Joe said. “I saw a commercial. They even have a slogan. ‘Go be in the Gobi.’”
Kurt laughed. “They might want to keep working on that.”
“It’s dry there,” Joe said. “No chance of drowning or freezing or ruining your best Armani shirt.”
Kurt laughed again. He could just about imagine Joe wearing Armani in the middle of the desert. He sighed, guessing they weren’t really serious, but there was one dry, sunny place he’d always wanted to go.
“I vote for the Australian Outback,” Kurt said. “Ayers Rock, rustlin’ roos, and Foster’s.”
They looked at him for a second, stunned.
“Rustlin’ roos?” Gamay said. And they broke into a cacophony of noes and long-winded reasons why Australia would never work. By the time they were done Paul was flipping the steaks and Kurt had finished his beer.
“Okay,” Paul said. “Let’s try again.”
Joe erased the board and scribbled “Round 2” at the top. Meanwhile, Kurt sat down in the other chaise, grabbed another beer, and gazed out over the peaceful river as the nominations came in.
As the names of various hot and dry places were called out, Kurt couldn’t help but smile. He had a feeling this might go on for a while. And sitting there, surrounded by his friends and soaking up the sun, he kind of hoped it would. In fact, for the moment, he could think of nowhere else he’d rather be.