him.”
“Hatfield, of course. I’ll arrange it; let you know.”
They parted at the desk, and Rae located her accommodations. They were indeed swank. Someone in Charleston definitely wanted her comfy and feeling wanted. She wondered if the mayor had anything to do with it; wondered if he were into occult things and held a strong faith in the paranormal. Else this was West Virginia hospitality.
# # #
She closed the door on her room, and once alone, she smelled the odors of the crime scene clinging to her clothing, clutching at her nostrils and skin. She quickly undressed to her panties and bra, started a warm bath in the Jacuzzi that Kunati would have surely denied her, and did a little perfunctory unpacking, hanging out her outer garments—a couple of business suits, an array of blouses that could change each suit daily, and a pair of skirts. She then located a place for her under things, T-shirts, pj’s and jeans.
While doing these chores, she was pleasantly surprised to find a his-and-her matching pair of white terrycloth robes, and while she didn’t need both, she enjoyed the loan, pulling the hers from its hanger and wrapping herself in it.
She next raided the wet bar for a glass of wine, the best in stock being the Berringer’s Zinfandel, which must do. She poured herself the entire mini-bottle into a wine glass and after a sip, she placed it on the arm of the Jacuzzi.
Her hot bubbling water ready, Rae stripped away the robe and the remainder of her clothes, and one toe at a time gingerly slipped into the ‘cauldron’.
She let out a long sigh as the warm water pounded her body with a gentle tsunami from all sides. The hotel had spared no expense on the hot tub, and it was located not in the bathroom but before a fireplace in the living room. “It’d be damn romantic if I only had someone to share it with,” she said aloud, fingering the controls on the Jacuzzi and striking a red button, assuming it was the highest level for the jets. Instead, the fireplace came alive with a rainbow of flames. This she could not have anticipated, no matter how psychic, not here in Charleston.
“Still,” she muttered to the posh room, “this is living.” She felt this way primarily because for the first time in twenty-four hours, she’d gotten both the awful murder case and concerns about Nia back in home off her mind. A rare moment, indeed.
She luxuriated in the moment. What was it Dr. Polkabla always encouraged? Live in the moment, the now with a capital N.
The water pulsated on all sides of her, soothing tired muscles.
She had lowered to the point only her head remained above water. She then managed to find a jet to hit the back of her sore neck.
The warm glow of the fireplace was her only light as darkness descended over Charleston outside.
No phone calls.
She felt heaven had descended with nightfall, and she half-kiddingly wondered if Gene had anything to do with it. She knew her father and mother would just call it an extravagant indulgence, both being somewhat ascetic in their beliefs and lifestyles. There was more in common between Buddhism and Wiccanism than people realized. Come to think of it, she knew that neither her father nor her mother had ever used a Jacuzzi.
As it is, this Jacuzzi is getting too crowded. Why is it I can’t just veg out and enjoy. Why all the guilt tripping? You’d think I was Catholic or Jewish.
She missed being able to drive ten minutes to the Tavern on the Green to talk it over with Joannie Childs. At this rate, she’d even settle for her shrink, Dr. Polkabla to get some answer to the question. What’d I ever do to deserve so much guilt heaped on me by none other than me, myself, and I? Just what gives?
Wellnow, wellnow… came her mother’s familiar phrase in her head. Why don’t we explore that just a bit, shall we, Aurelia?
Mother always called her Aurelia when displeased, Rae when
“Hatfield, of course. I’ll arrange it; let you know.”
They parted at the desk, and Rae located her accommodations. They were indeed swank. Someone in Charleston definitely wanted her comfy and feeling wanted. She wondered if the mayor had anything to do with it; wondered if he were into occult things and held a strong faith in the paranormal. Else this was West Virginia hospitality.
# # #
She closed the door on her room, and once alone, she smelled the odors of the crime scene clinging to her clothing, clutching at her nostrils and skin. She quickly undressed to her panties and bra, started a warm bath in the Jacuzzi that Kunati would have surely denied her, and did a little perfunctory unpacking, hanging out her outer garments—a couple of business suits, an array of blouses that could change each suit daily, and a pair of skirts. She then located a place for her under things, T-shirts, pj’s and jeans.
While doing these chores, she was pleasantly surprised to find a his-and-her matching pair of white terrycloth robes, and while she didn’t need both, she enjoyed the loan, pulling the hers from its hanger and wrapping herself in it.
She next raided the wet bar for a glass of wine, the best in stock being the Berringer’s Zinfandel, which must do. She poured herself the entire mini-bottle into a wine glass and after a sip, she placed it on the arm of the Jacuzzi.
Her hot bubbling water ready, Rae stripped away the robe and the remainder of her clothes, and one toe at a time gingerly slipped into the ‘cauldron’.
She let out a long sigh as the warm water pounded her body with a gentle tsunami from all sides. The hotel had spared no expense on the hot tub, and it was located not in the bathroom but before a fireplace in the living room. “It’d be damn romantic if I only had someone to share it with,” she said aloud, fingering the controls on the Jacuzzi and striking a red button, assuming it was the highest level for the jets. Instead, the fireplace came alive with a rainbow of flames. This she could not have anticipated, no matter how psychic, not here in Charleston.
“Still,” she muttered to the posh room, “this is living.” She felt this way primarily because for the first time in twenty-four hours, she’d gotten both the awful murder case and concerns about Nia back in home off her mind. A rare moment, indeed.
She luxuriated in the moment. What was it Dr. Polkabla always encouraged? Live in the moment, the now with a capital N.
The water pulsated on all sides of her, soothing tired muscles.
She had lowered to the point only her head remained above water. She then managed to find a jet to hit the back of her sore neck.
The warm glow of the fireplace was her only light as darkness descended over Charleston outside.
No phone calls.
She felt heaven had descended with nightfall, and she half-kiddingly wondered if Gene had anything to do with it. She knew her father and mother would just call it an extravagant indulgence, both being somewhat ascetic in their beliefs and lifestyles. There was more in common between Buddhism and Wiccanism than people realized. Come to think of it, she knew that neither her father nor her mother had ever used a Jacuzzi.
As it is, this Jacuzzi is getting too crowded. Why is it I can’t just veg out and enjoy. Why all the guilt tripping? You’d think I was Catholic or Jewish.
She missed being able to drive ten minutes to the Tavern on the Green to talk it over with Joannie Childs. At this rate, she’d even settle for her shrink, Dr. Polkabla to get some answer to the question. What’d I ever do to deserve so much guilt heaped on me by none other than me, myself, and I? Just what gives?
Wellnow, wellnow… came her mother’s familiar phrase in her head. Why don’t we explore that just a bit, shall we, Aurelia?
Mother always called her Aurelia when displeased, Rae when
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