And as she sat in her kitchen reading the newspaper online at seven, she thought of visiting Salima at school. She had said she might, and she wanted to see her.
She had no plans for the weekend and she had the time. She looked at her watch and decided to do it. She was wide awake for the three-hour drive to Springfield, Massachusetts. She could be there by ten o’clock that morning, spend the day with Salima, and come home that night, which was what she usually did. There was a bed and breakfast near the school, where Blaise occasionally spent the night, but she preferred coming home to her own bed, and Salima didn’t mind. They packed so much talking and hugging into a day’s time that one day together seemed like enough to sustain both of them until Blaise came up again.
She showered and dressed, got her car keys out of her desk, and called the garage to get her car ready. She only used it occasionally on weekends, and to go out to the Hamptons in the summer. Mostly she used it to visit Salima. She was smiling as she left the building. It was a beautiful sunny day, and it had been warm when she got back to New York the day before, in typical Indian summer fashion. She loved this time of year in New York. She could hardly wait to see her, and it was always a pretty trip. She was feeling happy all the way to the garage, and as she started her car, she noticed the diamond bangle on her wrist again from the handsome Saudi man she had met in Dubai. She remembered what they said about her then, that she led a perfect life. And for once, she had to agree. It really was.
Chapter 3
THE DRIVE TO Springfield was peaceful and beautiful, and by the time she took the turnoff, three hours after she’d left New York, she felt happy and relaxed. Coming here was like going on vacation. It was another world, far from the stresses of New York. And when she came to visit her, she focused on Salima and nothing else.
She saw the familiar landmarks on the road to Caldwell School, where Salima had spent the last eleven years, and she noticed a new house that had been built, and a church that had been restored. But essentially, nothing ever changed here. Most of the houses had been built a century before. And Blaise turned into the driveway with a sigh, anxious to see Salima. The students lived in cottages of three or four, with a monitor living with them, since they were younger than Salima. The seniors were in two-person cottages. And Salima had the only single small house on the grounds. Blaise had encouraged her to stay on after she graduated. She went to a community college nearby and was driven there every day. Salima came home for vacations, but Blaise felt it was a better life for her here, and Salima agreed. She didn’t want to live in New York anymore. She wanted to stay in the quiet rural community that had been home to her for eleven years. Blaise was hoping she’d stay through college. She was a sophomore now, and the community college she attended was small. It wasn’t challenging enough for her, but it was easy for her to manage. She had considered going to Dartmouth, but didn’t want to live in the dorms. And going to a community college, she could stay at Caldwell. She liked having her own cottage here, and she was getting straight A’s at school, which looked good if she ever transferred. She had gotten great grades and was a diligent student at every age.
Blaise drove straight to Salima’s house, at the back of the property with beautiful trees all around it, that were all turning scarlet. In summer, everything was a lush green. And Blaise had made a contribution that had allowed them to build an Olympic-size swimming pool years before. Salima was an outstanding swimmer, and had been on the swimming team all through high school, although she couldn’t compete anymore now that she was in college. But she was greatly loved at the school where she had been for so long. The younger students looked up to her, and the teachers were very kind to her. Abby, the monitor who lived with her, had been assigned to Salima for five years, now they were best friends. Abby was thirty-six years old, but living in the protected environment of the womblike school, she still acted and looked like a young girl. She wore pigtails most of the time, and she adored Salima.
Blaise stopped her car in the little parking area nearby, and walked down the well-tended path to the cottage. She could hear Salima’s voice when she reached the door. She was singing, and the door was open, as Blaise quietly walked in, and saw Salima with her back to her in the living room. She and Abby were laughing at something while Salima tried to sing and finally collapsed, laughing, on the couch. She still hadn’t heard anyone come in, and Blaise took three steps across the old beams of the floor in the front hall, and the moment she did, Salima’s head turned.