“Another time,” the housekeeper suggested firmly, and her shoes clicked across the tiles firmly. Laura thought it was odd that she didn’t pause to offer one of the other sunbathers any water, but perhaps she simply hadn’t heard her talking to them earlier.
The poolside sun brought her no comfort after that, and after a few more moments trying to get comfortable in the chair, Laura abandoned her magazine and decided to return to her room.
Jenny’s laptop was sitting on the desk, and Laura sighed and opened it, emotions in a jumble. She was desperate for some kind of closure, some closeness with her lost sister. She probably had some of their email exchanges, neatly filed. Maybe reading over them would make her feel better.
Jenny’s wallpaper was a serene tropical scene with a white beach, which made Laura smile crookedly. If only she could see the view out Laura’s own window now.
Before she could open the email program, Laura was stopped by a shortcut on the desktop labeled finances — will and life insurance. Of course Jenny would be so organized. When Jenny was halfway through law school, she’d insisted that Laura file a will. Laura had left everything to Jenny, and Jenny had done the same in return. Was there a life insurance policy that named her? But no, they thought it was Laura that was dead, and she’d never taken out a life insurance policy, and she didn’t have any money to inherit.
Did Jenny have a policy that named her? Jenny was always looking out for her.
Laura wiped away a tear and clicked on the shortcut. It opened a folder with more links - Jenny’s bank, copies of legal-looking documents...
A tap on the door startled her, and Laura had to take a deep breath and remind herself that it wasn’t like she was stealing Jenny’s money.
She ignored the person at the door, hoping they would go away, until there was a scratching at the lock that made her realize it was probably housekeeping.
“Oh, thank you, no,” she said hastily, getting to her feet. “You can come back later. Or not at all. I can make my own bed, really.”
She went to the door, not sure if they’d heard her, and pulled it open to find Fred putting something in his pocket.
“I was worried,” he said. “You’ve been so distant, and have so much to deal with. I wanted to make sure you were alright.” He stepped towards her and Laura instinctively moved back, inadvertently inviting him into the room.
Laura smothered a sigh. Would tears only encourage him to stay and try to comfort her? She settled for trying to feign a brave face.
“I’m okay,” she promised. “It’s hard, and sometimes I just need a break. There are so many people here, you know. It’s sometimes a little overwhelming.” She gave a trembling smile. “Laura would have loved this place.” Too thick?
Fred patted her arm, a strictly paternal and comforting move that still felt awkward. Jenny may have been good friends with him, but Laura hadn’t seen him since she moved out on her own nearly ten years ago.
He glanced around, as if he found the moment as awkward as she did, and his eyes fell on Jenny’s open laptop. Laura suppressed her urge to leap for it and close the lid.
“There aren’t too many people in the restaurant right now,” Fred said coaxingly. “There’s some kind of photo thing down at the beach, so we could go now and get a good seat for dinner and make an early night of it tonight.”
As if sleep would make everything better.
Lacking a good excuse, Laura agreed, closing the laptop as unobtrusively as she could manage before reluctantly following him out.
“Are you enjoying the resort?” Fred asked carefully, as they were served a generous plate of baked fish slathered in a creamy sauce, topped with fresh herbs and served on a bed of fluffy rice.
The restaurant usually only had two gourmet meal selections, but what it lacked in choice, it made up in quality. If she wasn’t in the mood for what was available, the buffet always had sandwich ingredients and a few staple dishes to choose from. But Laura had never been less than delighted with what she was served.
“It’s lovely here,” Laura said, though she knew her tone was lack-luster.
“You’re not… sorry you came?” Fred pressed. “I know you haven’t been enjoying the pageant events as much as you thought you would.”
Laura put on a brave smile. “I’m not sorry I came,” she promised.
Fred drew an exaggerated hand over his forehead. “Whew,” he clowned. “I would hate to be responsible for convincing you to go on vacation and have it turn out terrible.”
Laura felt for him. He was trying so hard to make sure she had a good time, and had been such a good friend of the family. She remembe
red how he’d been there when their parents had died, making bad jokes to try to cheer them up, and handling all the paperwork and finances that they’d floundered with.
“Have you thought about what you’ll do next?” he asked unexpectedly.
Laura froze, and then reminded herself that he was undoubtedly not talking about her plan to disappear in a foreign country.
She toyed with the fog on her water glass and looked down at the suddenly unappetizing fish. “I haven’t thought about it,” she lied.