I scanned a few of the menus in front of me:
Heavenly Massage Menu
Hot Stone Massage
Deep Tissue Massage
Full Body Massage
Reflexology Foot Massage
Tension Release Neck Massage
Heavenly Manicure Menu
French Manicure
Gel Nails
Hot Wax Dip
Deluxe Manicure and Nail Painting
Bejeweled Nails
Heavenly Relaxation Menu
Jacuzzi
Steam Room
Dry Sauna
Meditation and Silent Reflection
Yoga
Seaweed Wrap
Chocolate Mask
The list went on and on. There were additional details shown beside each service. Several notated that a group or individual option were both available; others, like meditation, were for individuals only.
Passing the menus up to Gladys and Sam on the couch, I shook my head in amazement. I hadn’t realized places this deluxe even existed for most of my life, and I never in a million years imagined I would be in one. It was almost unreal.
“You pick,” I told Sam feeling more than a little overwhelmed.
“Why don’t we each pick a few things?” ever the diplomat, she just couldn’t help it. Sam passed the pedicure menu to Gladys, the relaxation menu back to me, and mulled over one of the others herself.
“Don’t forget, whatever we don’t try today we can do tomorrow or the next day girls,” Gladys was giddy with excitement. To be honest, her enthusiasm was more than a little contagious.
“Okay, I vote Steam Room and Chocolate Mask today.”
“Sounds great, Piper,” Sam agreed. “I think the Foot Massage and the Jacuzzi should make the list also.”
“Your turn Gladys.”
“Well let’s see here. The Deluxe Pedicure; it comes with a sugar scrub and a hot towel wrap.”
“Perfect!” Sam beamed.
I stood and made my way to the intercom by the fireplace, but before I could push three for Jill number two lit up and Margarite’s voice filtered through.
“Hola ladies, por favor, Senorita Lowe you are ready to place your selection?” Margarite asked in her broken English, her r’s coming out in a beautiful rolling Spanish accent.
Sam hustled to the intercom beside me, rolling her eyes as I mouthed ‘creepy’. “Yes Margarite, we are all ready, gracias.”
The intercom light blinked off.
“What, are they listening in on us? You know that was strange, I was just about to push the button.” I insisted to Sam.
She shrugged off my discomfort, “They are trained to be efficient. We have had plenty of time to look over the menus you know.”
Moments later, there was a light tapping on the door. It opened before the tapping even stopped and in came all three of our personal assistants with clipboards in hand.
We placed our requests and, after a moment of conferring, the ladies sorted out a schedule that allowed us to stay together for everything but the steam room and the jacuzzi. Gladys decided to have quiet meditation instead of the steam, saying she would use that time for her Bible study today.
We would begin with the foot massage, followed by the chocolate-mask facial together. Afterward, Gladys would go to her room for her quiet time while Sam and I split up for the steam room and jacuzzi, alternating afterward. Jill chimed in that by that time the late lunch would be served in the outdoor garden. Sam, Gladys, and I agreed to meet up there after changing clothes.
When lunch was finished, we would venture to the nail salon for our pedicures together before retiring to our room to dress for dinner. I was still dying to see an actual food menu, but there just wasn’t time to hunt one down.
Our assistants, it felt so odd thinking of them that way, left to turn in our schedules so that the services could be prepped. “If you would prefer to change into more comfortable clothes, we will return for you in ten minutes to escort you to the massage wing,” Jill told us as she went out, closing the door behind her.
“I’m quite cozy,” Gladys grinned cheekily, still lounging in the fluffy robe. I noticed it had clouds embroidered on the front with ‘O Heavenly Day’ underneath. Good. That meant she found it in her suite and I probably had one in my room too. I looked forward to slipping it on after dinner this evening.
Sam and I changed in less than fifteen minutes, both coming out in loose cargo pants and tank tops. We had discovered fluffy white flip-flop house shoes in our rooms and tossed those on as well. I offered to get Gladys hers from her room but she declined. “Can’t stand those things between my toes. I’ll wear my own shoes but thank you.”
Right on schedule, more light tapping on the door preceded the return of Lola, Margarite, and Jill.
“If everyone is ready, por favor, this way.” Margarite gestured to the hallway.
Gladys rubbed her hands together in glee, “Let’s get this party started!”
Sam and I chuckled and fell in step behind everyone.
FIVE
The room we were taken to for our foot massage was about midway down the hall from our suites, back in the direction of the reception area. It was beautifully decorated with a calming water theme. Fountains. Streams. Babbling brooks. Each of the four walls was a mural of indescribable beauty.
The room itself was divided in half by a six-inch wide live river meandering along the floor. There were eight chairs set up in the room, four on each side of the river. Two of the chairs were occupied so we were led to three chairs on the vacant half of the room. The chairs were firm yet comfortable, and after we seated ourselves Margarite nodded to Lola who pushed a button on each chair sending us into a deep reclining position and elevating our feet.
Jill, in the meantime, removed our shoes and slid them onto discreet shelves below the chairs.
“We return for you in thirty minutes.” Margarite preceded the other assistants from the room.
Three men came in through a different entrance behind us. Two were close to mine and Sam’s age if I had to guess and the last one, I would estimate in his fifties. With a clap of his hands, the older gentleman dimmed the can lights above our chairs. I turned to raise my eyebrows at Sam but she was laying back with her eyes shut, completely relaxed from what I could tell.
Soft, trickling water sounds began playing low in the background. I laid back, finding myself lulled deeper into relaxation when both hands of the man at my feet applied deep pressure and began rhythmically working over each and every muscle from my toe to my calf. Who knew one could derive so much pleasure from a foot rub!
I blinked and opened my eyes, surprised to find the room brightly lit yet again and the men gone. Evidently, judging by my heavy and sleep-crusted lids, I had dozed off. Sam too was stretching in her chair, but Gladys was missing.
The door from the hallway swung open revealing Margarite, Lola, and Jill. Gladys shuffled in behind them.
“Had to use the restroom,” she explained.
Each of our personal assistants reached under our respective chairs. Margarite slipped shoes onto Sam’s feet. Gladys wiggled hers in front of Lola. The poor woman evidently didn’t pay attention to Gladys already in full footwear, and Lola ceased her attempt to find shoes under the chair. Jill continued to dig underneath of my own.
“What’s wrong Jill?” I asked as her movements became a bit more frantic, jostling the last of my sleepiness away.
“Your shoes. Piper, your shoes are gone.”
I joined Jill on the floor for the search and expanded it beyond the chair; however, there was no doubt that my fluffy white slippers had disappeared from the room. As we inclined the chair back to its original position, a piece of paper fluttered to the ground. I picked it up and stuck it in my pocket to throw away later.
“Here Piper, you can wear my shoes.” Bless Sam’s heart, she knew me well enough to know I couldn’t stand walking around barefoot on tile and hard flooring.
>
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She grinned mischievously as she brought them close to me and spoke in a low whisper, assumedly so Margarite couldn’t overhear, “Absolutely. Imagine how scandalized my dear mother will be to learn I’ve been gallivanting around the place barefoot.”
Laughing in agreement, I happily slipped the borrowed fluffy flip flops on and looked up, only to find Margarite gazing at us with a stern expression wrinkling her brows.
“Miss Lowe, I order you another shoe right away; come, we no be late to facial,” Margarite’s accent thickened as she grew more agitated.
As it turned out, Sam didn’t have to walk barefoot very far. The facial area was just three doors down a short hallway perpendicular to what I was coming to consider the main hall. We were seated in a small alcove and handed clipboards with waivers to fill out and sign. I started to skim it, but come on, they were just going to stick some chocolate on my face and wipe it off right? With a flick and a swish, I hastily signed my life away before I had time to rethink that decision.
Sam too signed without hesitation, whether because, like me, she was willing to risk it or because she had read the form hundreds of times before and knew what it contained, I have no idea. We had barely turned in our clipboards when Margarite re-appeared around the corner, fluffy white slippers in hand.
“Thank you,” Sam dutifully placed the slippers on her feet.
“Maybe it is for the best,” I consoled her about the loss of scandalous material for her mother to hear about. “We do want Deidra to place more orders with us remember?”
“Fine,” Sam pouted.
At last, Gladys finished painstakingly pouring over her form. She slowly scratched her signature across the bottom and we were all ready to begin.
The door across the hall from our little alcove opened; a young blonde woman smiled, “Welcome! Who’s ready for some chocolate?” she joked.
“Me!” they all laughed, but I was completely serious. I should have dipped into my emergency snack stash before we left our suite earlier. Or perhaps I should consider snacking less at the bakery all day so that my body doesn’t think that I’m starving to death when I go two hours without food...nope, probably not going to happen, someone has to quality control check the goodies after all.
Thanks to my inner conversation with myself, Gladys and Sam were already in the room. The blonde stood with a puzzled look on her face, likely wondering if I was going to sit out there all day, take off and raid the kitchens for chocolate, or come in for my facial as planned.
Rising I smiled and shrugged, trying to reassure her with my eyes that I was not going to attack her and take away the chocolate.
Instead of an opulently themed room, there was a very organized, clinical vibe here, softened by a few bouquets of flowers on side tables. Furniture was sparse; three chairs reminiscent of those found in a dentist office were spaced about four feet apart. Two of them Gladys and Sam had already climbed onto – still clothed I was relieved to see – and the blonde began working on situating a small neck pillow underneath them to bring maximum comfort.
After she had inserted a u-shaped neck pillow behind each of us and reclined the chairs flat, she introduced herself. Personally, I felt introductions would have made more sense to do when we could look at her and not while we were staring straight at the ceiling. Oh well, not my spa, not my rules.
“Good morning, my name is Jan. I’m a licensed esthetician and have been doing facials at the spa just over two years now. I understand that two of you ladies own a bakery?”
Attempting to nod assent, I knocked my neck pillow loose and poor Jan had to come re-adjust it. “Sorry,” I mumbled, embarrassed.
Jan seamlessly continued, “You both work magic with chocolate on a daily basis, but today I’m going to use chocolate in a whole new way. Today I’m going to use a new recipe with chocolate on your skin. Usually, I have an assistant but they have the day off so today it will just be me.”
“Can you explain why putting it on our skin is so helpful? I mean, it just seems like a waste of perfectly edible chocolate to me.” I couldn’t help it. I wanted to know.
Jan smiled, “Great question. A store-bought chocolate mask probably isn’t something you want to put on your face. They often contain small particles of either salt or sugar; those jagged particles can actually scratch the surface of your skin. The masks I will be using for your facial treatments today are homemade from only two ingredients: dark cocoa powder and plain yogurt. The lactic acid contained in yogurt helps to unclog dirty pores; the cocoa powder is packed full of flavanols and antioxidants which help protect your skin from UV rays as well as improve blood flow.”
“Wow Piper, we have cocoa and yogurt at the bakery. Maybe on slow days, we should indulge in chocolate a bit differently,” Sam said.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Jan gathered her already mixed masks and got to work.
Being without an assistant necessitated that Jan applies each of our masks one at a time. Having just napped, unintendedly, during our divine foot massage, and yes, I had to admit I could understand the draw of a good foot massage now, I was restless laying on the table awaiting my turn.
I cut my eyes sideways, straining to watch Jan mix up the chocolate concoction and slather it on my friends but couldn’t see much through my peripheral vision besides a portion of one table and my nose. Scared to move and knock off the pillow again, I resigned myself to the ever-exciting activity of counting ceiling tiles.
Seventy-six.
Seventy-seven.
Seventy-eight.
“Alright, Miss Rivers.” In the midst of my counting, Jan’s face appeared looming large directly over mine. Yelping, I jumped, my head colliding with her nose.
“I’m so, so sorry!” I rubbed my head while apologizing to the poor lady.
Jan, apparently a free bleeder, grabbed a hand towel from a rack nearby and fled the room. Sitting up I put my face in my hands; I am obviously not cut out for the spa life of the rich and fabulous.
Jill must have been stationed nearby to escort us after the facial because it wasn’t long at all before she stepped inside. “I saw Jan. What on earth happened?”
“What do you mean?” Sam asked as Gladys cupped her hands to her ears, smearing the chocolate mask.
“What, what did you say?” Gladys asked.
Neither had seen my graceful catastrophe, even now they were unable to open their eyes due to cucumber slices protecting them from the thick chocolate mixture covering their faces which ran their hairline down to the tips of their chins. Gladys’s left cucumber was now sliding, making tracks down her cheekbone.
I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to Jill. “There was a small mishap where Jan nearly gave me a heart attack and I, hopefully, did not break her nose, and to top it off I’ve completely lost count of the ceiling tiles.” I laid back down with a sigh.
SIX
Sam and I bid Gladys goodbye as she followed Lola back to our set of suites.
Margarite clapped her hands to hurry us along and preceded us down the hall, back in the direction of the main hall. “I can’t remember, which of us is going to the jacuzzi first?” I asked.
Jill answered me, “I am taking you to the jacuzzi. Sam will go to the steam room.”
“We get twenty minutes in each,” Sam continued, “and then we switch.”
“You must shower between,” Margarite’s thick accent cut into our conversation from several paces in front of us; that woman must have the hearing of bats.
Margarite came to a halt without warning and gestured for us to go into the room to our right. She and Jill followed us inside where Jill explained the obvious. “This is the changing room and locker storage.”
“Thanks, Sherlock,” I quipped, receiving an elbow from Sam for my trouble.
“Your suits are in the lockers,” Jill opened one to reveal my navy blue and pink striped bikini. Okay, not so sure how I feel about someone unpacki
ng my suitcase for me. I looked to Sam but she was already carrying her own yellow and orange Hawaiian flower-print swimsuit to a changing room. Must be normal procedure, I mentally shrugged.
Once changed and wrapped in fluffy robes, also courtesy of the magic lockers, we stepped into the hall to find Margarite and Jill waiting for us.
“This way,” Margarite took off again. Talk about a woman on a mission. This time we again went towards the room where our facials, and partial facials, had taken place but took an immediate right turn down yet another offshoot hallway.
Forget menus, I needed a map! I understood the necessity of playing follow the leader in this place with the personal assistants now. The art on the walls were beautiful fluffy cloudscapes and soft sunrises. Viewpoints were both from the ground and aerial. They were breathtaking.
There was a door on each side of the hallway and, as we passed them, I read the gold-scrolled letters on the doors. Seaweed Wrap was on one in large golden letters, Massage labeled the other. At the end of the hall was a long corridor, but instead of turning left or right down the corridor we passed straight across to the continuing hallway on the other side. It was there that we found a door to the steam room on our right and the jacuzzi on our left. A long bar on the walls by each door had hooks.
“Place your robes here please,” Jill indicated the hooks.
Margarite hung up Sam’s robe for her as I placed my own on the rack. “We return in twenty minutes to switch,” Margarite told Sam as she handed her a small porcelain bowl of goop.
After Margarite and Jill were out of earshot, I asked Sam, “What is that gunk she just handed you?”
“It’s an exfoliating scrub,” Sam said, sniffing the bowl. “This one is honey and sugar, I think. Here, smell.”
It smelled delicious, causing my stomach to growl. “Why do they keep rubbing food on us?” I groaned. “When do we get to eat it?”
Rest, Relax, Run for Your Life Page 4
