Dark Homecoming by William Patterson Page B

her lips moving in that way that passed for a smile. “Might I suggest you take a dip in the pool?”
    â€œThe pool . . .”
    â€œYes. And afterward you can just lounge in one of the chairs. We have a mister system—cool mist sprinkling down that keeps you from ever getting too warm. It’s rather like a tropical paradise, Mrs. Huntington used to say. Such beautiful flowers and greenery surround the pool. It will be as if you’re on vacation in the Caribbean.”
    â€œI feel as if I should be . . . helping . . . doing something. . . instead of just lounging around.”
    â€œThere’s nothing to be done, ma’am. Perhaps you’d like to take one of the cars instead, and drive into town, do some shopping . . .”
    Liz blushed. “I don’t have a driver’s license. I let it expire when I was on the ship. I’ll need to renew it.”
    â€œOh, I see. Well, then, we could have one of the chauffeurs take you . . .”
    The idea of going out and exploring Palm Beach without David made Liz uneasy. “I’m not feeling very peppy today, I’m afraid,” she said. “I guess maybe sitting by the pool and reading a book sounds like the best idea for now.”
    â€œYou’ll love the pool. I’ll have Rita set out a pitcher of iced tea. You go on upstairs now and change into your swimsuit.”
    Liz gave her a half-smile. Maybe Mrs. Hoffman wasn’t so bad. Maybe Liz’s nerves and everything that had happened since she got here had made her too uneasy around her. Maybe she really was trying to be kind to Liz.
    Back in her room, Liz slipped into her bathing suit. It was a light blue one-piece, cut high in the hips. Liz looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She could see the tautness of her leg muscles had softened. On the ship, dancing every day, she had been lean and tight. But she hadn’t been keeping up with her gym routine since she’d married David. How could she have? They’d been jetting from place to place on their honeymoon, eating far too many cakes and pastries and drinking more cocktails than they could count. Liz was going to have to join a gym somewhere, and soon. And she really, really needed to start dancing again. Maybe David’s idea of opening a dance studio wasn’t so bad, after all.
    But even if her legs were less toned than they were a few months ago, they were still pretty damn shapely, Liz told herself, admiring them in the mirror. What satisfied her far less than her legs, however, were her breasts. She’d always been rather flat-chested, and when she was younger she used to feel terribly self-conscious about the fact. The boys in high school used to tease her; one day, when she’d innocently remarked that her mother had taken some sweaters out of a hope chest, the boys had latched onto the phrase and started shouting, “Liz is hoping for a chest!” Liz had laughed, putting on a good face, but inside she was mortified.
    So when Peter Mather had left her for a woman who was far more stacked than she was, all of Liz’s insecurities had flooded to the surface. How she used to cringe when she would see the two of them walking around the campus together, Peter’s new girlfriend seeming to go out of her way to flash her big tits in everybody’s face. Liz knew that was probably only her own perception, but she couldn’t help but look at the two of them and feel completely inadequate.
    The memory of all that humiliation, however, receded into the past the moment she stepped out poolside. Mrs. Hoffman was right. The pool was magnificent. And it was hers. She had married a man who loved her, who thought she was beautiful, who had given her all this.
    Set as if into the side of a cliff, the pool meandered around rocks and little manmade islands, perfect to stretch out on under the Florida sun. Palm trees provided plenty of shade if one wanted it, and at the deep end of the