“It is indeed,” she said.
He smiled, his gaze lingering on her cotton nightshirt. “Feeling better?”
“How long did I sleep?”
“You fell asleep around three yesterday afternoon. It’s now seven forty-five the next morning. A little less than sixteen hours, subtracting dinner.”
“I barely remember dinner,” she said wonderingly. “Did I eat? I’m starving.”
“You picked at a really good adana kebap,” he said.
“What time are we leaving?”
“In an hour, if you can manage it,” he said. “Same thing applies here as in Konya. The earlier we get there, the less crowded it is, and you really want a full day in Ephesus.”
“Grannie’s in the shower now. I just need to clean up and repack my bag,” she said.
“I’m out of the shower now,” Grannie said, fluffing her damp hair as she joined Rose at the balcony railing. She wore another pair of travel pants and fleece, zipped against the chilly morning air. “Good morning, Keenan.”
“Ma’am,” he said formally. “I’ll see you both at breakfast.”
“Hmmmm,” Grannie said, taking in Rose’s thin cotton nightdress. “I seem to remember something about balconies in a play about young lovers…”
“We’re not young,” Rose said, then rethought her automatic statement. She opened her mouth to correct herself, but gave up when she saw the twinkle in Grannie’s eyes. “It’s freezing out here. I’m going to take a shower,” Rose said, and fled for the steam-warmed bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later she shoved her heavy suitcase into the hallway, hoisted her tote a little higher on her shoulder, and followed Grannie down the hallway. Her laptop, balanced on her palm, was connected to top-of-the-line WiFi and downloading her email at an industrious clip. She sidestepped a group of Japanese tourists leaving the dining room just as the last email downloaded, then scrolled through the first forty to an email from Mindy Hong, another member of the management committee, flagged as important with a subject line READ ME FIRST.
Everything’s fine. Hua Li is handling the day-to-day situations with the marketers. There was a small crisis with the auditors, but Jensen called Travis, promised him a game of golf and a bottle of Macallan, and it’s under control. Attached are the latest batch of resumes for the open leadership positions. Something to read on the flight home.
Mindy
The attachments beckoned, the documents labeled by the efficient HR director with names and positions. She almost opened them. Then she looked up to see the Babes and Keenan at the table, and the sea in the distance, sky and horizon blending to blue. Grannie waved. Keenan’s gaze flicked over her, head to toe.
She shut the laptop, tucked it in her tote, and left work and Lancaster behind.
“Listen up,” Keenan said when Rose sat down with her breakfast soup. He pulled up the map on Grannie’s iPad and pointed. “We’ve got a full day at Ephesus. I picked up some snacks we can take into the site, so we don’t have to leave for lunch. You wanted to visit a rug shop. I got a recommendation from a friend. It’s here”—he pointed—“on the way to Troy. I suggest we have a late lunch after we’re done with the site, drive to Troy, and get a light dinner once we’re there. Comments?”
“Perfect,” Grannie said.
They were packed up and in the Land Rover fifteen minutes later, and in the parking lot with the earliest tourist buses shortly after that. Everyone piled out and gathered around Keenan. “The only toilets are at the entrances.”
“Keenan, I have no idea why you think we’re so concerned with toilets,” Marian said.
“It’s probably my overactive imagination, ma’am,” he said formally, and distributed energy bars, apples, and a bottle of water to each of them. “I’m going to drive the car around to the other entrance, because that’s where you’ll exit, by the Great Theater. I’ll catch up with you inside.”
They paid their admission fee, bought tickets for the terrace houses, got their maps, then went inside. The Babes clustered around Marian, clutching the tour book. For a while Rose followed along with them, but after a while she just drifted down the main avenue, paved with marble, ruts worn into the stone by ancient wheels. What remained of the impressive library loomed in the distance. Chipped columns and stone and mortar walls interspersed with headless, limbless statues lined the route, and sections of clay piping used to transport hot and cold water to the villas were now stacked in empty spaces. Were they shops? Homes?