Rest, Relax, Run for Your Life

by Katherine H Brown

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “Nothing.”

  With lunch over it was time to find the room for pedicures. Not surprisingly, our assistants were waiting for us right inside the doorway when we returned to the building from the garden.

  “How was lunch?” Jill asked.

  “Fantastic,” I rubbed my belly.

  Lola motioned us to hurry, “We are nearly late,” she whispered. “I think Margarite would faint if her charge were late anywhere.”

  Picking up our pace, the three of us followed along down several more hallways in a new direction. “I’m pretty sure I could get lost in this place,” I told Gladys and Sam.

  I slipped my hands into my pockets as we walked and felt the crumpled-up paper from earlier. Pulling it out, I opened it and stopped walking, staring at it in disbelief. Similar to the note at the bakery, it was capitalized to read: I TOLD YOU - YOU CAN’T HAVE EVERYTHING.

  Sam noticed me lagging behind and slowed down. I caught up to her and silently handed over the note. After a sharp intake of breath, she whispered, “Where did this come from?”

  “Do you remember when my slippers went missing?”

  At her nod I continued, “Evidently someone left this in their place. I thought it was garbage. I don’t know what made me open it just now.”

  “Taking your slippers though, really?”

  “Yep. I would say someone either doesn’t like me or is playing a really elaborate prank.”

  “But who?”

  “That’s what I can’t figure out. There was nobody but us and the employees in the room for the foot massage. I haven’t seen any of them before at the bakery.”

  “And Gladys.”

  “What?” I asked.

  Sam shrugged. “Gladys. She’s been at the bakery and here with us at the spa.”

  Before I could tell her what a crazy theory I thought that sounded like, Gladys herself called over her shoulder, “Come on slowpokes. I’m going to pick hideous colors for your toes if you don’t hurry it up.”

  I raised my eyebrow at Sam, “No, surely not,” I whispered.

  We hurried to catch up before the group rounded the corner at the end of the hallway. I hated to think it. It didn’t seem possible, but I was going to keep an eye on Gladys.

  Arriving at the salon wing, Margarite led us past the hairstylists’ rooms and waxing rooms to a long row of chairs at the back. These weren’t just any chairs, of course. They were top of the line, deluxe leather armchairs that reclined. At the foot of the chair, instead of a footrest popping out, there was a large basin of water attached to the chair.

  “Oh my gosh!” I said settling into the chair Jill led me to.

  “What? What is it?” Sam said, eyes wide. The note had obviously set her on edge.

  Not taking my eyes from it, I held up the object of my surprise. “It has almost thirty massage settings!”

  Sam closed her eyes and I could almost visually see the numbers rolling behind her eyelids as she silently counted to ten and blew out a deep breath. “That’s it,” she said calmly, “you have to get out more. In fact, I tried to bring you for pedicures to the salon downtown millions of times, but you wouldn’t come.”

  “Well excuse me but someone never mentioned a deluxe massage. I pictured lots of snipping and prodding at my toes and those horrible callus scrubs you always hear about with the cheese grater,” I harrumphed. Secretly, I agreed with Sam. Obviously, I had been missing out on the small pleasures. Oh well, now I knew.

  One of the nail technicians, a young girl with her hair in a short pixie cut and rings of dark eyeliner, wheeled a cart of polishes between me and Gladys.

  “Welcome to O Heavenly Day Spa’s Cloudless Day Salon. Care to pick a color?”

  Sam, too far away from the cart to see, leaned over and nudged me. “Grab me something to match my hair please.”

  Examining the cart, I picked a gorgeous red and passed it to her. “How is this?”

  She flipped the polish over and read the bottom aloud, “Abiding Love. I like it.”

  I think somewhere along the way I knew that nail polishes had names instead of regular colors, but I had forgotten. I decided it would be more fun to pick a color first before reading the name on any of the others.

  I fingered a few turquoises, one or two pinks; I didn’t want to choose red and match Sam’s polish, so I steered clear of those.

  Thoughts about Sam and her concerns that Gladys had the opportunity to place both of the disconcerting notes were still processing in the back of my mind. Glancing at Gladys, curious about her choice, I was shocked to see a glossy black polish in her hand. Black, really? Was she trying to match the tech’s eyeliner?

  “What color is that Gladys?” I asked her.

  She waved the polish towards me. “You’ll have to read it, Piper, I can’t see this tiny writing.”

  Eyes widening, I read the name to her, “Lucifer.” Beside me, I swear Sam gulped.

  Okay. It is just a silly nail polish, I told myself. Now I just need to find myself a color and relax. Following Sam’s lead, I chose a silver to match my hair and turned it over to peek at the name. Talk about weird coincidences; Angel’s Hair, it was called.

  “We’re ready,” Sam smiled sweetly at the desk manager; he pushed a button and as the girl wheeled the cart away three lean, short-haired men of Asian appearance came out and took their place on small, wheeled stools in front of us. I reclined my chair, but only slightly this time; I wanted to stay awake and aware. Gladys reclined her chair back as far as it would go. Sam stayed sitting straight up and mouthed “Lucifer??” at me with one raised eyebrow.

  I shrugged. The jets in the footbath were fired up. They weren’t quite as relaxing as the actual foot massage this morning, but the hot water felt nice. I chose a lavender and green tea sugar scrub from the menu to finish off my pedicure. This place and all their non-food menus threw me for a loop. Never in my life had I seen a place with so many choices.

  Sam’s sugar scrub was passionflower. Gladys chose mint. I had a fleeting thought that if Eloise were here, she would probably choose earl grey. Her poise and manners and superior demeanor towards her daughter all gave me a rather English impression.

  My wandering mind was drawn back to the present when, at last, the nail tech in front of my chair picked up my foot and began trimming my toenails. He also removed all of the dead skin around the nail edges. Too soon it was time for the dreaded cheese grater tool, the callus sanding pedicure tool of doom. Turns out, I am ticklish on my feet. A lot.

  Once I made it past the calluses being scrubbed ruthlessly from my heels, I really began to enjoy the pedicure. It was a foot massage all over again! After a deep kneading of both feet, the young guy at my station got up and walked toward cabinets at the side of the room.

  “Psssst,” I whispered.

  Sam was reading the latest Food Network magazine next to me and paid no attention.

  “Psst, Sam,” I whispered again.

  “What Piper?” she asked smirking.

  “He didn’t paint my toes. I thought they were supposed to paint your toes?”

  “Ha!” Sam burst out laughing. Maybe I should start charging per laugh, one would think I was her own personal comedian these days. “Piper, you are nowhere near done with this pedicure. Zeng’s just going to get the hot towels. Don’t worry, the paint will get on your toenails before we leave.” Apparently, Sam knew all of the staff.

  I stuck my tongue out at her. Childish, maybe, but I like to think of it as cathartic. She grinned at me and turned back to her glossy magazine.

  Sure enough, Zeng was back within two minutes bearing a silver tray of steaming pink towels. Unfolding the first one, he shook it out a few times and held it up to cool just a bit before tightly wrapping it from my knee to my ankle. Man! Whoever coined the phrase ‘as fun as a wet blanket’ must never have been introduced to these wonderful wet towels. With both legs wrapped in hot steamy cloth, I could feel my entire body hea
t.

  “Woo, is it hot in here?” I fanned myself.

  Like ordering up a miracle, the girl who wheeled around the polishes earlier suddenly appeared at my elbow.

  “Orange water ma’am?” she offered me a cold glass of ice water with three thin orange slices swimming happily in it.

  “Thank you, yes.” I sipped it slowly. The cold and the citrus were refreshing and I gulped the rest of the glass down.

  “I’ll have one of those please,” Sam said.

  Gladys declined, “If you happen to have cucumber water, I would love one of those though.”

  The girl went to a fridge concealed behind the counter and returned with icy cucumber water in a short glass.

  Sam’s toes were nearly finished I noticed. The older gentleman was finishing up her last two toes in red.

  Zeng unwrapped the now much cooler towels from my legs and smoothed lotion all over them, massaging my calf as he went. If I hadn’t seen Sam and Gladys receive the same treatment, I would have been uncomfortable. I laughed at myself inwardly, before this trip was over people were going to be rubbing all over my body so my leg should be fine. My face heated as I recalled the accidental phone call with Griff, discussing my massage wardrobe.

  “Look at my sexy toes!” Gladys stretched her feet out for us to see, nearly kicking the poor guy still in front of her.

  I frowned, “Gladys, I don’t think you can say sexy at a church.”

  “We aren’t at a church, we are at a spa.”

  “Besides,” Sam joined in, “you just said sexy too.”

  I rolled my eyes, “We are so getting kicked out before four days are over.”

  EIGHT

  I have to admit that Gladys’s nails do look incredible. Instead of painting the whole nail, she had the manicurist do French tips with the black, giving them a more elegant look.

  I was perfectly happy with mine as well. The silver had a tiny metallic sparkle to it so they seemed to sparkle in the light.

  Sam’s red toes were gorgeous; we all agreed when we returned to the suites that sandals to showcase our feet were a must for dinner.

  I was doubly glad I had picked Angel’s Hair silver for my color as I considered what to wear for dinner. At least my nails would match basically anything. Upon returning to our suites, I entered my set of rooms and was more than pleased with the theme. To be quite honest, I hadn’t even spared it a glance when I went in for the first time to nap after my troubling trip to the steam room. Now, however, I spun in a slow circle and gave it my full attention.

  The fluffy, cloud-painted ceiling continued in my suite, but the remainder of the décor was in soft, muted tones. The walls were a light, sandy linen color. A couple of bamboo plants decorated the room, including one corner where bamboo was erected on two sides, with a wall on the third, to create a changing screen. The carpet was a luscious green.

  I found my suitcase unpacked, stowed in the corner. All of my dresses, a whopping three, were hung in the massive walk-in closet. Jill, or someone, had even hung up my t-shirts. How many days did people usually stay here to need all of that space?

  My extra set of cargo pants, yoga pants, and my sleep shorts were all folded neatly in the dresser drawers (also in the closet, it was that big!). I shook my head. This place was nothing if not efficient.

  My purse sat on the divan at the foot of the bed. Sam and I had agreed to shut down our phones for this trip, but I thought I had better check in just in case. Powering the phone up I was relieved, and not wholly surprised, to find no missed calls or messages. After checking the time, four-thirty in the afternoon, I turned it off and headed to take a long, hot shower. The en-suite master bath was a bonus I hadn’t expected. I may not be a primp-and-preen girl, but if I were going to get dressed up for dinner, it was going to take some work.

  A knock sounded at my door just after I finished blow-drying my hair. When I opened it, Gladys stood at the door to my suite holding two dresses. “Piper, which do you think?” she asked.

  I looked at the options. Seriously, was I the only person without the appropriate attire? One was a simple black dress, fluted shoulders, round neck, and belted with a bright red scarf. The other was sparkly gold sequins, lower cut but with golden fishnet that came up into a high collar at the neck.

  “Wow. They are both beautiful,” I told her honestly.

  “What are you wearing?” she asked peering around me.

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged.

  “Oh,” Gladys’s shoulders drooped and I gave in.

  “Wear the black one, save the gold for our last night here,” I winked and closed the door. Great, now what was I going to wear?

  I made my way to the walk-in closet and flipped on the light switch. I pulled the three dresses from the bar and hung them from the top drawer of the dresser, looking at them side by side. I had a short blue sundress with yellow daisies, a black and turquoise sleeveless A-line dress, and a white, off the shoulder, shift dress that reached just above my knees. None were even half as elegant as Gladys’s two choices and I couldn’t imagine what Sam would be wearing. Not that I cared, I reminded myself. These will do just fine. I pulled the black and turquoise dress off the hanger and left the others staring silently after me.

  The dress didn’t look bad at all. It was simple but the turquoise complimented my hair and the black made it formal enough I supposed. My thoughts were interrupted by more knocking, though this time though the door opened and Sam came right in without waiting on me to answer it.

  “Hey,” she smiled. “You look great Piper. Can you zip me?”

  “Thanks. Of course,” I motioned for her to spin and she held her hair while I zipped up her selection for the night. Black bodice with empire waist, lace cutout in the back making the zipper a very delicate thing by her shoulder blades, and a short black and red chevron pattern for the skirt.

  “I don’t remember this dress,” I told her. “It looks amazing on you.”

  “I bought it a few weeks ago, you know, back when my hair was pink? Well, obviously it clashed too badly to wear it then so tonight is its debut.”

  “Good choice,” I commended her, mostly for choosing not to wear red with pink hair because I could only imagine how painful to the eye that would be; though, probably not on Sam since she looked beautiful in everything she put on. I think it was her confidence that did it, not even the clothes.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” I told Sam. “Just let me finish my hair.”

  After braiding the top half of my hair and adding eyeliner and mascara to my eyes, I turned off the bathroom light and slipped on some small black heels.

  Sam and Gladys were waiting in the sitting room; Sam clapped her hands when I joined them, her enthusiasm making her long curls bounce. “Oh great, we all match,” she grinned.

  ~

  I should have known there was some reason for Sam to be glad we matched. Walking over to the dining hall, which was in a separate building along with the kitchen, just to the side of the garden, Sam said, “Piper, by the way, we have an interview with Pastor Dan and his assistant for the church newsletter over dinner this evening.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “They would like to thank us for all of the fundraisings that we did and give the Ooey-Gooey-Goodness Bakery a little spotlight feature in return. I’m sure they will want to know more about your friend Landon so they can bring more awareness to the very real danger of human trafficking, even in the United States.”

  “Okay,” I steeled myself. “If it possibly helps anyone else avoid or escape from the hell that Landon went through, then it will be worth it. It feels kind of odd though since it isn’t really my story to tell.”

  The dining hall wasn’t nearly as opulent as the spa itself. Dark and rustic, the long wooden tables that filled the room ensured that diners sat close enough together for fellowship and encouraged inclusion rather than leaving some to sit alone at a corner table. The floor was a beautiful reddish brown twelve-inch
tile pattern. The ceilings were standard eight feet drop height with plenty of lights illuminating everything.

  On the tables were - be still my heart - menus! Yes, I am excited to see a menu that doesn’t involve a foot scrub or a toenail clipping. Not that lunch wasn’t scrumptious, but I was still eager to see what a formal dinner menu here was comprised of when everything else was so fancy.

  The menu did not disappoint. Rack of lamb. Filet Mignon. Baked Alaskan Salmon. Parmesan Herb Chicken. Smothered Pork Chops. Grilled Asparagus. Veggie skewers. Garlic potatoes. Salads whose ingredients looked more complex than my cookie recipes. Soup. And not a snail in sight, thank goodness.

  We were seated towards the head of one row of long tables. A young woman appeared to take our orders: Baked Salmon for Gladys, Parmesan Herb Chicken for Sam, and I chose the Filet Mignon. The room was only half full, so the noise level was still fairly quiet. We chatted about inconsequential things and before long Sam waved to Pastor Dan. He and a middle-aged woman in a muted gray pantsuit made their way to our table.

  Pastor Dan pulled out a chair for his assistant as he introduced her to us, “This is Winnie,” he told us. “She is in charge of our newsletter and will be taking notes this evening. But we can get to business later. First, how are you ladies enjoying your stay?” he smiled widely.

  Sam and I glanced at each other; the pastor didn’t seem aware of the mishaps that went on today.

  Gladys broke the silence. “Well,” she started in a huff.

  I cut her off, “It has been wonderful. Thank you.” Might as well not hash through the whole day again. I figured it wasn’t the pastor’s fault snakes got into the spa, after all..

  “Excellent, happy to hear it!” If he smiled any wider, I was afraid his face might break. The waitress stopped by to get the newcomers’ orders. The more we chatted the more I realized Pastor Dan was just a genuinely happy and jovial man. He had plenty of laughs over antics of Sam as a child. He asked about Griffin as well.