Fern Michaels - Tuesday’s Child

“I could get real used to this in a hurry,” Linda said, as they made their way through the house. It was breathtakingly gorgeous, and everywhere they looked, they could see Kala’s fine touches. Everything gleamed and sparkled, and the heady scent of the plumeria was everywhere.

“I like it that everything is so open, all those French doors and the sheer curtains billowing about, the paddle fans stirring the scented air, all this beautiful teakwood, the floors, the furniture… It’s like something out of a movie. I am so jealous of you, Sophie, that you are going to be living here while I’m back in good old Dunwoody, Georgia.” It was all said in fun, and Sophie knew it. She laughed as they mounted the stairs to the second floor.

“Look at this balcony; you can see the entire downstairs from here,” Sophie said in awe. “Why is Kala living stateside when she could be here?”

“She’s needed stateside for people like you. People here don’t need her the way she’s needed back home. That’s the best answer I can give you, Sophie.”

“I understand. Now which room is mine and which one is yours?”

“I guess whichever one has our stuff. I’m thinking someone probably unpacked our things, and we’re good to go. Yep, this one is mine,” Linda said as she opened a bedroom door. “Oh, my God! Is this beautiful or what? Look at that pineapple bed! You need steps to get in it. I’ve only ever seen pictures of rooms like this.”

Linda was talking to dead air; Sophie was down the hall opening the door to her room. She stood in the doorway and simply stared as she tried to drink in the room that was to be hers for as long as she stayed there. It was beyond anything she could ever have imagined. There was no ceiling, just the roofline of teakwood. A long pole from the peak held a paddle fan that whirred soundlessly. Everywhere she looked, there were vases of fresh-cut flowers, the scent intoxicating. She could see her reflection in the shiny floors. Sheer organza rippled from the open French doors outside her own private balcony, with two chairs like the ones on the lanai. Her bed was the same as Linda’s except for the coverlet, which was pale yellow with appliqués of tiny green leaves. She had the same set of three steps to get into it.

Sophie made a promise to herself to jump on the bed later. She looked in the closet to see a wide array of clothes, evidently the things Kala had bought for her that were in the huge suitcase that had been carried onto the plane. Sundresses, slacks, blouses, shorts, and dressy dresses. All cotton, linen, or silk. In the whole of her life, she had never had anything as fine as what she was seeing.

In a far corner tucked into a small alcove was a desk of sorts, which held a computer, a phone, and, mounted above it, a television set. All the comforts anyone could ever want.

Sophie made her way into the bathroom and stopped short. She reached for the doorframe to steady herself. It wasn’t just a bathroom. It was a grotto, with brick walls that held moss and water trickling down. Within it was a huge Jacuzzi with twelve jets. All tiled to match the grotto walls and floor. The shower was clear glass and spouted twenty-seven jets. Sophie counted them. The vanity was white and gold, with three sinks. In the middle were bottles and jars and jugs and pots of lotions, shampoos, and perfumes. The towels on the racks were thick and thirsty and bigger than twin sheets. They were mint green with the initials KA on them. She laughed when she saw the bidet. Oh, if the prisoners back in Georgia could only see this. She was glad they couldn’t. What they didn’t see couldn’t make them hunger for it.

Sophie stripped down and piled her wet clothes in one of the three sinks because she didn’t know what else to do with them. She turned on the twenty-seven jets in the shower and danced under all of the gushing water. She soaped up and rinsed three times, each time using a different bath gel. She also washed her hair three times, using different shampoos and conditioners. When she saw that her skin was starting to pucker, she got out of the shower and wrapped herself in one of the green towels.

Sophie took her time poking through the clothing in the walk-in closet. She finally chose a yellow sundress splashed with white daisies and spaghetti straps. On the floor she found a pair of thong sandals with matching daisies on the bands. She brushed out her hair and hoped that at some point she could get a fashionable haircut in town. She wondered if she smelled as good as she felt.

Sophie looked at the little clock on the night table: 7:45. Lunch hour back in Georgia. She shrugged; there was nothing she could do about the time. And right now it was time to eat because her stomach was growling. She walked down the hall and saw Linda sitting on the pineapple bed.

“I want to live here.” Linda laughed.

“With or without Jay?” Sophie said.

“Only with Jay.” Linda jumped off the bed and linked her arm with Sophie’s. Together, they made their way downstairs and back out to the lanai, where Mally served them macadamia-banana pancakes with banana syrup, fresh mangoes, and crispy fried bacon strips. Fresh flowers and a silver urn of Aulani coffee sat in the middle of the table. Mally served them gracefully. Both women ate like it was their last meal.

Mally cleared the table, leaving them with their coffee. She returned a few minutes later with the dinner menu, which read simply, “LUAU.” Linda squealed with pleasure, and Sophie drooled.

“Find out what is going on back in Georgia. I can’t wait any longer, Linda.”

“You’re the boss. This, by the way, is something called a Droid. You can do everything but wash your car and paint your house on this gizmo. Be patient now, and before you know it, I’ll have everything at my fingertips.”

“Why don’t you just call the office and ask what’s going on?” Sophie said. “You can put it on speakerphone, and I can hear both ends of the conversation. It will save you from repeating everything to me.”

“I guess that makes sense. Okay, here we go.”

SOPHIE LEANED BACK ON THE GLIDER, HER FEET SWINGING slightly to make it move back and forth as she listened to Linda talk to her husband. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she listened to what she called kitchey koo talk between husband and wife before they got down to serious business. Her mind wandered a little as she considered how she was going to spend the day. The beach, of course, a swim in the sapphire water, another walk down the shore, possibly a nap here on the lanai. Or perhaps no nap. She got down to the business of mapping out her life and what she was going to be doing once Linda left and she was on her own.

She thought then about her old friends from the orphanage and wondered what they were doing. She wished now that she hadn’t cut them off when she went to prison the way she’d cut off Kala, Jay, and Linda. How wonderful it would be to call them up and say hello. Dominic Mancuso, otherwise known as Nick; Patricia Molnar, Patty to her friends; and Jonathan Dempsey, also called Jon. Best friends. Today the term was best buds . That was the four of them back at St. Gabriel’s. Ten years was a long time to lose track of three of the people you loved most in life.

They had been there for her during the trial, steadfast, testifying on her behalf. Even Sisters Julie and Helen had testified for her. Not that it did any good. And she had kicked them out of her life. She told herself she was doing them a favor because they didn’t need a jailbird for a friend. They had lives, good lives, and she didn’t want to burden them with her miserable existence. Their memories would have to suffice.