TWELVE
I awoke slowly the next morning. I vaguely recalled strange dreams, but not the details of any of them. I looked at the clock on my phone. 7 AM. Wow, I was really getting the hang of this sleeping in thing! In fact, I might need to worry about how hard getting back into my early-morning schedule at the bakery might be when this trip is over.
Knowing by now that most of the appointments at the spa didn’t begin until nine in the morning, I decided to take my time getting ready. I ran hot water in the large garden tub and added some bubble bath. Grabbing my Kindle, and a towel, I eased into the warm water and continued reading where I left off last night.
When the water began to cool and my skin was getting wrinkly, I shut down the Kindle and climbed out. A few quick braids to my hair would have to do today because I had run out of time to blow dry it. I shrugged into my robe and tightened the belt around my middle before going to check on my suitemates. Sure enough, I found them in the sitting room.
“Piper,” Gladys greeted me, raising a mug in my direction.
“What’s this?” I asked sinking into a plush, purple chair and accepting the drink.
“Hot chocolate, extra creamy.”
I inhaled the rich scent.
“Yum!”
It was divine; never had I drank such a luscious hot chocolate.
“Wow! This is wonderful,” I wiped a chocolate mustache on my arm, not at all self-conscious. I would wear the mustache all day if it meant I got to keep drinking this.
Sam nodded in agreement, up to her nose in her own mug, whether it was of chocolate or coffee I wasn’t certain until she came up for air sporting a matching chocolate line along her upper lip.
“Can I please send a picture to your mother?” I asked laughing. “Wait, it could be your Christmas card!”
“Brilliant though that might be,” Sam shook her head, “no, you may not send anyone my picture like this. I haven’t even brushed my hair yet.”
“Fine,” I pouted. “So, what are we doing today?”
“Well, our nails and toes are done for the week,” Gladys pointed out, wiggling her Lucifer tipped toes at us.
“I have some thoughts,” Sam said. “Since Piper never got to fully experience the chocolate face mask, we should give a facial another try. I saw a few on here that sounded good.”
“I can live with that,” I told her, nodding that she should continue.
“The first is a cleansing, steam and conch-shell scrub. They take a combination of small, crushed-up pieces of conch shells and an oil of your choice mixed together. It is said to be an amazing exfoliant, without scratching or damaging your skin because of the soft, powder-like substance of the crushed shell.”
“What is the other?” I asked. That sounded like a fairly extensive process to me.
“The other is a gold facial.”
“A what?”
“A gold facial. Cream that contains gold is applied to our face for a certain amount of time before removal and is supposed to improve radiance, elasticity, and complexion. Plus, they put gold on your face, how much more pampered can you get?”
Gladys and I agreed that those both sounded excellent.
“Anything else?” Gladys asked her.
“I assumed nobody was ready to go back to yoga class,” Sam waited for our nods of confirmation. “There is still another class offered here. It involves food.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t’ even know what it is yet, Piper.”
“Food. Yes.”
Gladys shrugged, “Whatever you think, Sam.”
Sam pushed the intercom button and Margarite appeared. Sam relayed our choices for the day and Margarite disappeared down the hallway.
Sam brought me a short jumpsuit of hers to wear; she dressed in a smart skirt and blouse. Gladys was a little miffed that we decided robes weren’t appropriate today since we wouldn’t need to undress for anything. She opted for black, velour lounge pants and a pink top.
Margarite, Lola, and Jill arrived promptly at five ‘til nine to escort us to the facial appointments.
As we were walking, I thought I saw a blonde head peer around a corner and disappear back out of sight, but when we got to that spot, not a soul was in the hallway or the attaching corridor. Maybe my nerves were a bit frayed.
“Oh!” Gladys exclaimed, “I forgot something in the room. I’ll catch right back up, go on.”
I paused, watching her retreating figure.
“I think I’ll go make sure I unplugged my curling iron,” Sam gave as an excuse to follow her. I knew my friend must have sensed my lingering unease with Gladys’s continued trips alone to our rooms and I was grateful.
Margarite scowled. I got the impression that she was easily upset with anything that interfered with her schedule.
Jill led me the rest of the way to get ready for our facials. Jan was noticeably absent; I briefly wondered if she were avoiding my session because of her nose.
“Not at all,” Jill assured me when I voiced the concern. “Because so many of the staff here volunteer their services, we rotate out frequently. Jan had work to do at her actual office today, paying clients she was scheduled to see there.”
That made sense. I settled into my chair to wait. Much to my surprise, I was joined by Belle.
“Hi, Piper.”
“Good morning Belle. Are you here for a facial too?”
“Yes. Samantha sent a note through her assistant this morning asking me to join your group. Mother agreed when she learned how important Sam’s parents are.”
“Well, at least they are good for something,” I joked.
The estheticians, or facial experts of the day whatever their job title, were busy setting up their stations. Gladys and Sam made their way in a few minutes later and one of the ladies approached us.
“Hello! What kind of oils would you ladies like mixed into your exfoliating conch-shell scrub? We have lavender, hemp, rose, eucalyptus, and tea tree oils. You are welcome to smell of any that you would like.”
“Lavender would be lovely,” Sam smiled.
“May I smell the lavender and the rose please ma’am,” Belle, soft and shy, responded when the lady looked to her.
“Of course!” Two small, dark-colored vials were brought over for Belle to smell.
After giving it considerable thought, Belle decided on the rose scent.
Now it was my turn.
“Tea tree oil will be fine,” I remembered hearing good things about it several years ago but couldn’t remember the specific details.
“Yes, Miss Rivers,” the woman said as she returned the other vials to the counter. “Tea Tree oil is very popular right now. And now Mrs. Hill, what oil would you like to use today?”
“Hemp,” Gladys clapped her hands. I suppressed an eye roll thinking yet again that she must have been a real handful in her younger days.
With oils chosen and exfoliants mixed, the four women got started cleaning our faces. Working up a nice lather, they washed and rinsed us. Next came a hot, steamy towel wrapped around our face. It felt rather nice. Finally, the bowls of prepared crushed shell were brought over. Wearing gloves, the woman with my scrub smeared it in small circles all over my face until it was a thick-layer of the seashell mask. I was afraid to open my eyes or mouth even a little in case some were to get in there.
“Now, we leave the masks on for one minute and then we will come back and rinse everything off,” one of the women said.
“It kind of itches,” Gladys mumbled.
“Don’t touch it,” someone told her.
One minute, I learned, seemed to take quite a long time. When at last our faces were devoid of powdery seashell bits, we were given bottles of water to drink and asked to wait a few more moments while the second portion of today’s facials, the gold masks, were made ready.
Peeking in the bowl as it was brought over to my chair, I had to admit it was a gorgeous shade of gold; bright and shiny.
“Would
you take our photo after?” I asked.
“Yes, I can do that.” I handed my phone to the lady to use after she was finished with my face. The paste had been warmed up, thank goodness because the crushed shell powder had been so cold, and it felt wonderful as she painted it over my face with a large brush.
“Okay, smile for the camera!”
The four of us posed, smiled, and laughed.
“Now, this mask must sit for twelve minutes. We will return to peel it off for you at that time.” With that, the four women left the room, leaving us sitting in our chairs with nothing to do.
“Belle,” Samantha began, “did you interrupt any good gossip when you went back to your mother’s suite last night?”
“Just a little,” the girl responded with a shrug, “a celebrity is staying here all of next week but I don’t know who it is. And then they were discussing your brother getting married but you wouldn’t want to hear all of that.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam said, “whose brother is getting married?”
“Yours. Griffith, Griff something.”
“Um no. Griffin isn’t even dating anyone right now. That can’t be right.”
“I’m positive that’s what Mother and Winnie were saying. Some girl with political ambitions that Deidra believes can bring her son back from the dark side and into his role for Mayor after your father steps down several years from now.”
“That doesn’t even make sense. Mayors are elected, first of all. You can’t just decide who is going to get the job.”
“Well, actually,” I told Sam, “the rumor would make complete sense if it were coming from your mom. She thinks she can get her way about everything; one little election wouldn’t stand in her way. Still, I agree with you that surely Griff would have at least told you if he were seeing someone.”
Our conversation halted as the women came back in to remove our gold masks. Working slowly, they peeled the mask a little at a time so it came off in the shape of our faces. The sensation it created along my skin was tingly, and stretched it, but felt good; almost like I could feel it pulling dirt from each pore as it left. Disgusting and fascinating at the same time.
Our gold skins were thrown away and we were handed sample-sized moisturizers.
“Oh look, tea tree oil,” I said.
“Mine is rose,” Belle held up her bottle for me to see.
“You have each been given moisturizers made with the same oil you chose for your scrub. If you would like something different you may let me know,” said the lady who seemed to be the authority of the group and did all of the talking.
“Nope, this will be just fine,” Gladys held the bottle to her nose and inhaled. Oh boy.
They showed us how to apply the moisturizer to our faces in small, gentle circles before declaring our facial session complete.
“Thank you,” I called over my shoulder as we exited the room and followed our gang of personal assistants back to our suite.
“Belle, we would love for you to join us. Margarite, please order tea be brought to our sitting room,” Sam said in one fluid breath; there was no time for anyone to object.
~
Settled into various cushions, chairs, and divans, Gladys offered to pour tea for everyone We had dismissed Jill and Lola, who had delivered the tea on a quaint little cart with a full tea service including sugar, cream, and shortbread cookies with cups and saucers for everyone. Linen napkins were folded in the shapes of seashells.
“Thumbprint cookies! It has been so long since I’ve had these,” I reached for one of the round cookies that had a dollop of the red jam in the indentation in the center. “Yum, raspberry,” I said while licking my lips.
“I got blackberry-flavored,” Belle smiled.
Sam munched on a regular shortbread with no jam.
“Sam!” I startled her with my sudden light-bulb moment, “We can make peanut butter and jelly cookies at the bakery with peanut butter soft cookies, thumb-printed to hold grape jelly.”
“Thumb-printed?” she arched one eyebrow high above the other.
“You’re welcome, it is a new word, so use it.”
“Fine, we can make peanut butter and jelly thumbprints. Now, back to the reason we are here…Belle, I’m having trouble wrapping my mind around this rumor that my brother is getting married. Start over, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay,” Belle agreed, sipping from her teacup before she began. “I let myself into the suite with as little noise as possible, taking time to close the door gently. My slippers were inside the entrance, so I traded out my heels for the soft, silent slippers right away. I didn’t exactly sneak up on Mother and Winnie. That would be rude, but I didn’t call out or announce myself either. You never learn the good stuff that way, and my mother treats me as if I’m still twelve and not ready for the adult world.”
Sam nodded sympathetically as I rolled my eyes at parents in general, thinking of how Sam’s mother still tried to plan her entire life rather than trusting the choices Sam made for herself. Encouraged by our reactions, Belle continued.
“Winnie was speaking and as she has a rather loud, whiny voice. She was easy to hear from the entry while I hung up my shawl. ‘It’s too bad about that Griffin Lowe boy,’ she was telling Mother. ‘He would have been a fine catch for your Belle, political connections and all.’”
I burst out laughing, “A fine catch? Poor Belle, do they think dating is a simple sport of fishing for the big one? What about friendship, love, respect, or maybe actually knowing the person first?”
“I know, I swear my mother is Elizabeth Bennett’s mother reincarnated.”
“‘Daughters, married’,” Sam quoted in a fit of silent laughter, wiping tears from her eyes.
“Don’t mind these two,” Gladys flapped her hands at us impatiently, “keep going with your story.”
“Mother asked questions about the Lowe family and finally got around to asking who Griffin was planning to marry and if Winnie was certain it was serious. I think she was developing the idea of arranging a meeting between us!” Belle’s cheeks burned scarlet but whether from embarrassment or anger it was difficult to tell. “Thankfully, that idea was nipped early on because Winnie said that it was as good as certain, that she heard it from the bride-to-be herself who was here yesterday ordering sample desserts. That is when she said that the girl was thrilled to have gained Deidra’s trust in several political matters and was sure she would be grateful to have a daughter-in-law who wasn’t going to let Griffin throw his life away on some common girl and common life.”
“That doesn’t sound like someone Griff would be into at all,” Sam tapped her finger on her chin. “It’s too bad that Piper and I agreed we are having an electronic free weekend or I would be tempted to call him right now.”
“Yeah, that is umm,” I swallowed and hoped my face wasn’t heating up as quickly as Belle’s had, “yes, definitely too bad you can’t talk to Griff. No phones and all.”
“Well I didn’t agree to any no phone rule,” Gladys disappeared into her suite too fast for me to puzzle out her words. When she returned to the sitting room, a glittery purple cell phone was pressed to her ear. “Yep, yep, that is what I thought. Okay, thanks, you have a nice day, dear.”
THIRTEEN
Placing the phone on the table, Gladys raised her teacup to her lips and drank. Then, sitting it back down and folding her hands in her lap, she said, “Griff isn’t engaged to anyone. Says somebody has lost their mind.”
Sam and I gaped at Gladys.
“Oh okay,” Belle said, reaching for another cookie and unaware of the confusion muddling mine and Sam’s brains.
“You called Griff?” I asked as I regained control of my faculties.
“When did you get his number?” Sam cocked her head sideways in a puzzled fashion.
Gladys shrugged as she reached for a shortbread.
“Oh, just the other day at the bakery. He seemed like such a nice young man.”
A knock came at the
door. I shuffled over to answer it since my chair was closest.
“Hi Piper,” Jill handed me a folded piece of paper and I inhaled sharply, “Belle’s mother asked this be delivered to her,” she finished and I felt foolish. Was I going to jump at the sight of all paper now? We really had to get to the bottom of my not-so-biggest fan. I handed the note to Belle.
Her smile fell, “I have to get back to Mother. She needs me to help her choose outfits for lunch.”
“Don’t worry,” I patted her on the shoulder, “we’ll break you out again soon.”
Gladys clapped, “Oh! A jailbreak, how exciting.”
“That isn’t exactly what I meant,” I tried to say but Belle simply snickered and turned from the room.
“Come on you two nuts, we may as well get going to lunch, too,” Sam admonished us as she got up and headed to her suite to freshen up.
Gladys rang for Lola on the intercom and let her know the tea things could be collected. I was relieved that Lola came herself while we were still in the room; I had been worrying over another unknown maid perhaps coming in after we left for lunch in the garden and ruining something else of mine. With that thought on my mind, I got up and excused myself to my suite. Locking up my purse in the safe made me feel better. I returned to the sitting room just as Sam exited her suite as well.
“Ready?” Gladys asked us.
“Ready,” Sam agreed. “Though I probably ate enough cookies to count for lunch just now.”
I shook my head, “Negative. Those were appetizers.”
~
I wiped my mouth, folded my napkin onto the table and slumped back in my chair. Not exactly fancy spa garden lunch posture but boy was I full.
“I’m stuffed bigger than a Thanksgiving turkey,” Gladys echoed my thoughts with her own unique turn of phrase.
“I told you I ate too many cookies,” Sam groaned.
“Watch your mouth, there is no such thing!” I reprimanded her with mock horror.
“What did we schedule for this afternoon? Please tell me it was a nap?” Gladys asked.
Ooey Gooey Bakery Mystery Box Set Page 10
