“Then we’ve never met.” Claire turned to leave then glanced back, “Until tomorrow.”
He nodded and watched her walk away. Her posture exuded confidence, straight spine and slightly raised chin. The backless dress exposed her feminine lean body. A faint white line from a slender bathing suit strap was visible across her tanned back. Below the bare skin, covered with the soft white material was one of the most perfect round behinds he’d ever seen. Watching it sway with just the perfect amount of sultry yet aristocratic movement, he concluded: she does a fine job walking in those shoes. A clandestine four days with her in this five star hotel wouldn’t be a bad tour. Hell, it might even be worth losing his job.
The body of Mr. Roach’s email was short and simple:
Mr. Rawlings, I apologize for the inconvenience and delay. My laptop decided to reject the SD card from my camera. I’m glad to say the kinks have been resolved. As you will see, I have multiple photos of Ms. Nichols from throughout her four day holiday. I honestly expected to see her with someone. However, it seems this was truly a four day get-a-way meant only for her personal rest and revitalization.
I have a return ticket on her plane. We should arrive in San Francisco at approximately 5 PM PST, 7 PM CST. I’ll be available by telephone after that, if you need to reach me. Again, I’ll remain dedicated to this assignment until I learn otherwise. Thank you, Phillip Roach
Tony clicked the attachment. A parade of pictures: Claire eating breakfast, lounging at the pool, at dinner, in a bar… After a fast pass through all fourteen photos, Tony went through them again, slowly digesting the contents. He wondered about San Antonio. Why? Why would she go there? It didn’t make sense. But then again why not? She’d always enjoyed warm weather and sunshine.
A man growing old becomes a child again.
– Sophocles
Chapter 14
1984...
Marie combed Ms. Sharron’s thinning hair and talked endlessly about nothing. Mrs. Sharron Rawls enjoyed hearing her talk. When Marie would momentarily pause, to collect her thoughts or take a breath, Ms. Sharron would gently tap her arm, indicating for her to continue. Marie wondered if the sweet elderly lady understood the words being said, or if she just liked the sound of her voice. Heaven knows, even with the large staff, the enormous house could be incredibly quiet and lonely. There were times Ms. Sharron would allow the sounds to be the radio or the television, but without a doubt, she preferred voices. When Marie spoke, Ms. Sharron’s breathing would regulate and her expression would calm.
It would seem that after a year and a half, Marie would have run out of things to say, but she hadn’t. She could ramble at length about nothing. Truthfully, she hadn’t planned on staying with the Rawls for this long. She, of course, never saw herself as a nurse maid. Yet, given her circumstances, this job was a god send. And now, barely twenty–three years old, she feared it would end too soon. After all, Ms. Sharron was barely a shell of who she’d been when Marie began.
In the beginning, it was sad to see the way she struggled for words and their meaning. Nevertheless, as Marie spent day and night by her side, she found humor in the most unlikely places. Surprisingly, Ms. Sharron found humor too. This shared bond and most absurd witty view of an unfortunate reality, bound these women despite their drastic differences. The rest of the family was too serious. Especially Mr. Samuel Rawls, Ms. Sharron’s son. Marie shuttered to think how he would react if he knew the way they laughed at some of her mishaps.