“So much for knocking back this bottle of Cristal,” Sam said.

  “We’re taking it,” her mother said, removing the bottle, and wiping it off with a tissue.

  “Are you sure? This place might not allow alcohol inside.”

  “They serve alcohol,” her mother informed her.

  “Then let’s not waste a drop,” Samantha agreed.

  They thanked their limo driver as he escorted them to the door of the Serenity Spa. The minute they stepped inside, Samantha discovered what “relaxing” smelled like. A light rose scent and maybe cucumber? She couldn’t identify the exact smell other than it was spa-like and luxurious . . . relaxing.

  “Mrs. Stewart?” a woman inquired as soon as they were inside.

  “Mrs. and Ms. Stewart,” her mother said. “This is my daughter, Samantha.”

  The woman was around Sam’s age, taller than her with long black hair. Her features were plain, but her makeup was pure artistry. She’d learned a few tricks herself when she’d worked as a TV newsperson but hadn’t used them in a very long time.

  “Happy Mother’s Day,” the woman said, then looked at her scheduling sheet. “It looks like you’re both here for the entire day. The elite package, I see.” She glanced at the bottle of champagne her mother had a death grip on. “Looks like you’ll be needing a couple of flutes, as well.”

  Her mom mouthed, “Told you.” And it was all she could do to keep from laughing out loud.

  “If you two will follow me, you can enjoy your champagne in our lounge.”

  They followed the dark-haired woman to a room filled with the sounds of a small waterfall and a light tinkling of music. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’m Layne. I apologize for not introducing myself before.” She stood there, waiting for a reply.

  “No worries,” was all Samantha could say, as the champagne’s influence was beginning to ease its way through her, making her feel warm and fuzzy. “We’ll be just fine, Layne.”

  “I’ll return in a bit, then you all may begin your spa experience.” She smiled, then left them to finish off their champagne.

  “Isn’t she a doll? I bet she gets facials every day. Did you see how perfect her skin was? I bet she gets Botox, which I’ll admit, I do myself, but I think she’s too young—”

  “Mom! You’re talking too fast,” Sam told her, knowing it was the champagne. They had best stop while they were ahead, or they’d pass out before their spa experience even began. “Did I hear you say you’d had Botox?” she asked.

  “That’s exactly what you heard,” Helena replied. “Are you going to preach me a sermon like your father does? He thinks it’s vain of me.”

  “Mom, of course not. I might try it myself someday. I’ve got plenty of wrinkles. Dad doesn’t approve?” she said, then wished she’d worded it another way. Her dad was not the kind of guy who had to approve what her mother did or didn’t do. Actually, he was quite mellow.

  “He doesn’t care, really. He likes to tease me, tells me I’m beautiful without it, but it’s just that little something extra I like to do. Does that make me a vain woman?”

  “Not at all,” she said, then swallowed the last bit of champagne. “I don’t think I’ll have another glass. This is the first time I’ve had alcohol since Caroline’s birth.” And it was hitting her full force. She felt lightheaded.

  “I don’t want any either. I want to enjoy this experience with you. I’m so happy you’re home, Sam. By the way, I slept like a newborn baby last night.”

  “You woke up every four hours?” She couldn’t help herself.

  “You know what I mean; I slept through the night. I didn’t even get up once to go to the bathroom.”

  “Mom, you do realize the more you talk, the more it sounds like you’re either a baby or ready for a nursing home.” Sam was loving jousting with her mother. This was their relationship for the most part, but when she needed her mother to act motherly, she’d never failed her in thirty-three years. She was just a funny woman. Maybe she’d missed her calling? A stint on a comedy show would’ve suited her sense of humor. Hard to see her as the quiet library lady.

  “Stop, you’re going to critique my every word. This is not the news, dear, or the library. I loved my work there, but I didn’t like the hush-hush atmosphere. I studied music . . . maybe I should’ve been a teacher? I’ll never know, but Caroline will reap the benefit of what knowledge I have. I can’t wait to take her to the library. She’s going to love story time.”

  “We’re ready for you, ladies, that is, if you’re ready,” Layne said, interrupting her mother’s constant flow of words.

  “Yes, we’re more than ready,” Sam told her.

  “Excellent. Now, I have your day sheets, and I’ll need you both to look them over, fill out the form with your emergency contact numbers, and at the end of the day, we’ll want your feedback so we will be returning these. How does that sound, ladies?”

  “Sounds like we’re being tested, but I will overlook that. I understood when I made this appointment last year, this was a place to be pampered, and treated like a goddess. Is that just a trick to entice people to your spa?”

  “Mother!” Samantha said, then turned to Layne. “I’m sorry. She’s had too much to drink. We’re fine with whatever you all have planned.”

  “No, we’re not! I want to know what’s going to happen to me beforehand, don’t you? We do have an infant to consider,” her mother said, her voice higher than normal.

  She had her there. “Can you give us a few minutes to look this over? I’m sure it’s all fine.”

  Samantha skimmed over the paper and didn’t see anything out of order. She filled out the form, using her parents’ home address and her cell number. Scribbling an illegible signature on her form, she took her mother’s and did the same, only she passed it to her mother for her signature. “Sign this,” she said, leaving no doubt that it was time to get down to the rough business of getting pampered.

  Samantha handed her sheet to Layne. “We’d like to start now. Mom, sign the paper in this lifetime.”

  Samantha gave her mom a stern look, but she refused to give up her info sheet or whatever they called it.

  Sam followed Layne. Her mother finally got the message and trailed behind them. Each room they passed smelled divine. Soft music played, and candles were placed in strategic areas of all the rooms they walked through.

  “Your first spa treatment is our detox pool,” Layne said, a hint of a smile on her face.

  Samantha busted out laughing. “Are you serious? Do all tipsy clients go to the detox pool first? It sounds . . . silly, that’s all. Sorry.” She wanted to laugh like she had as a teenager, giggle until her eyes watered and her sides ached. Biting the sides of her cheeks to keep all that laughter inside, she tried to distract herself by looking at her mother.

  Mistake, big mistake.

  She’d taken the sheet she was supposed to sign, and on the back side she’d drawn a giant happy face with a tongue sticking out. Quickly, Sam turned away because if she didn’t, she would end up humiliating them both. “Mother, please let me have your spa sheet. Now.”

  Her mother winked at her, then handed over the paper.

  She gave Layne her mother’s spa sheet, smiley side down, and hoped the woman didn’t look at it now. At least let them be in different rooms when she viewed her mother’s artwork.

  “Very well, now, ladies, these”—she opened a set of heavy wooden double doors—“are our detox tubs.”

  She’d been expecting anything but this. An Alice in Wonderland moment, she thought, or Disney World. Whatever. Ten or so, and Samantha would swear to this if ever asked, giant teacups were spaced evenly apart throughout the giant room. The scent of cucumber was so strong, she wondered if the detox pools had been mistaken for the salad bar.

  Stop! Stop! Stop! She was becoming her mother!

  Definitely no more alcohol for her.

  “And we’re the tea bags?” her mother remarked. “Is this a joke? You expect us to relax in a . . . cup? Are we supposed to get undressed? Why, I bet those are filled with all kinds of nasty germs. I think I want a refund. I never signed up for”—she pointed to the cups—“this!”

  Samantha wanted to throw herself on the floor in a fit of laughter, but she didn’t. Instead, she calmly asked Layne to explain. “I don’t think Mother realized what the elite package included.”

  “Each tub is sanitized and filled just minutes before each client enters. They’re made to fit one person, and as you’ll see, we have swimsuits for you to wear. They are new and in packaging, so you may take them home if you wish. At Serenity, we like to remove any harmful toxins in the body first. Of course, we’ll have you drink plenty of water so you don’t become dehydrated. After half an hour or so, you’ll be ready for your next treatment, and with the toxins removed from your body, our treatments are much more effective.” Layne spoke as if she were explaining brain surgery.

  Samantha wondered how many times a day she went through this spiel. “What’s in the water that’s going to detox our bodies?”

  “We add magnesium sulphate, which you’ll know as Epsom salt. A bit of baking soda, and Himalayan salt, then we add a small amount of apple cider vinegar. You may choose your favorite essential oil to add, but I always recommend lavender for its relaxation properties. That’s it. Most of the things you would have at home in your kitchen cupboard. Nothing harmful, I assure you. When we combine these ingredients, you’ll get the full benefit if you stay in our tubs for the whole half hour. I see you both have facials scheduled afterward, so if either of you are suffering with blemishes or any topical concerns with your skin, the detoxification process will aid in this as well.”

  “Show us the way,” Samantha instructed. “This sounds like fun.” If her mother thought she was excited, then Samantha knew she would dive into the process wholeheartedly. If this would detox the small amount of alcohol they’d consumed, then she was all for it. And she’d try to remember the recipe the next time she needed a detox. She’d visit the kitchen, then take a bath.

  Layne led them to the changing rooms. She had to admit, they were pretty lush. Stacks of thick, pale green bath sheets, matching terry robes and slippers, and dark green swimsuits in light green cellophane wrap lined a wall. The suits were placed on shelves according to size. “They run true to size,” Layne said, watching Sam glance at the shelves.

  Samantha couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a swimsuit. “That’s good to know.”

  “I don’t suppose we’re allowed to try them on first? I have a very small waist, but I’m quite busty,” Sam’s mother blurted out.

  Samantha almost wished she were back in Italy in her crappy apartment. Anywhere but here.

  “She’ll take a small, and I’ll have a medium.”

  Layne took the proper-sized suits from the shelf, then led them to their private dressing rooms.

  “When you’re ready, our detox specialists will prepare your tubs.”

  “Mom, don’t say a word. Layne, thank you for your information. It’s been very . . . informative.”

  “Then I hope you’ll add this to your spa experience. We all appreciate compliments. It lets our employer know we’re doing our job.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll make sure to give you a glowing review,” Samantha said. “So, we’ll just put these suits on and return to the detox area?”

  “And our detox specialist will meet us at the teacups,” her mother added from her dressing room.

  “Just as I explained,” Layne said. “Now, I’ll leave you two to prepare yourselves. Enjoy your spa experience.”

  Layne left the room, and her mother came out of the dressing room. Samantha was mildly surprised when she saw how great her mom looked in the plain green swimsuit. She’d put her up against any twenty-year-old.

  “Don’t stare, dear. I feel like I’m on display in one of those shop windows on Fifth Avenue.”

  One of the more luxurious areas to shop in Naples, Fifth Avenue catered to the wealthiest of them all.

  “Mom, I don’t know what you’re doing, but you look freaking fantastic! I want what you’re having,” Samantha said, stepping out of her dressing room. Her own suit was too loose in the chest area—no shock there. No way she filled it out like her mother.

  “Stop, you’ll embarrass me.”

  “No, I won’t stop. Now, tell me what you’re doing to look like a twenty-year-old in a swimsuit?”

  “I go to the gym, and I joined a Zumba class. That’s it, and I’m trying that clean-eating thing, not very successfully, but I am trying.”

  She took a deep breath. “Trust me, whatever it is, it’s working. You ready to go get pickled?”

  “I’ve acted horribly, haven’t I? It was that champagne! I hope I haven’t embarrassed you, and yes, I’m ready. I’m not so sure this spa thing was such a good idea.”

  “Mother, it’s a great idea. I think the Cristal on empty stomachs was a bad idea.”

  “That’s it! I didn’t have breakfast. Normally, I can have two or three glasses to drink before I feel the effects.”

  “Mom, please, the detox specialists are waiting.” It was all she could do to say this with a straight face. She would definitely remember her first Mother’s Day, and if not the actual spa experience, she knew she’d remember her mother’s attempt at comic relief.

  They returned to the detox baths. Two women in their early twenties explained once more what they were putting in the water, then left them alone.

  Inside the cups or tubs was a small built-in seat, but there wasn’t enough room to stretch out their legs. “Not the most comfortable cup I’ve ever bathed in.” She was reminded of a time she’d been in an actual tank, the feeling of claustrophobia that overcame her. She almost felt that way now. Samantha did not like to be confined.

  “Well, I do think the smell is a bit better now they added the lavender oil. I think all this vinegar they’re using is what made it smell like a cucumber. Maybe a good scrub with bleach between detoxing would help. I’ll make sure to write that on that stupid sheet she kept referring to. Don’t you think she went a bit overboard?”

  Closing her eyes, Sam tried to summon up a picture of what patience looked like. Her mind remained blank. Then she thought of Caroline. The stress eased from her shoulders, and her impatience with her mother lessened a bit. Leaning her head back on the rim of the tub, she opened her eyes and caught her mother staring at her.

  “What? Is one of my boobs hanging out?” She sat up, looking down to make sure everything was where it should be.

  “Samantha, I know you’ve been through a hell of a nightmare. Don’t think I can’t see those dark circles, the sadness in your eyes. I’m sure you want to talk about whatever it is that’s caused this, and I know you’re not going to, or you’re not allowed to. I do understand. I just want you to know that if you ever feel the need to unload, I’m here. I’m a tough old bird. Goofy, I know, but tough. I just needed to tell you.”

  Tears filled Sam’s eyes, and she used the back of her hand to swipe at them. “You’re very perceptive, Mom. I hope I’m as in tune with Caro as you’ve always been with me. I’ve had a rough couple of years; career-wise, it’s been a challenge. I was getting tired, though. The people—they get to you. I felt horrible sometimes when I’d go on-air, with my cameraman zooming in on the tragedies of war. It was all I could do to speak clearly and not show my true feelings on-air. It got so bad, I started to fear that I would just blurt out the real truth live, on-air. I needed to stop. When another offer came my way, I had to take it.”

  Her mother got out of her “teacup” and came to sit beside hers. “You won’t get the full detox if you don’t stay in the tub for the full thirty minutes or so,” Sam teased her mother.

  “Who cares? I can do this at home. I just wanted us to have the day to ourselves. Granted, when I made the reservation, I didn’t know you’d be celebrating Mother’s Day as an actual mom yourself, but you’re good at this mom thing. Not everyone is. I can’t begin to imagine how difficult it must be doing this on your own. Can I ask about the father?”

  Darn. Of course she could ask, but that didn’t mean Sam would give a truthful answer. Not wanting to be a total fraud, but knowing what she could say, she spoke softly, as though ears and eyes dotted the walls. “Caroline’s father was a great man.”

  “Good. So, I’m going to run with this, and you can stop me if you want. Caroline’s father was or is in the military. Most likely he’s injured, or . . . no longer with you, and he didn’t, or doesn’t know he’s a father.”

  She smiled. “Mom, you’re good, you know that? All those mystery books you used to read put some fantastic theories in your head. Do you still read them?”

  Her mother raked her hand through her hair, the same as she did when she was stressed or put on the spot. “I do. I’ll never stop reading books. I love them. I don’t have a Kindle, or an iPad, just so you know. I just like the feel of the book in my hands, the feel of good paper, a sturdy binding. Does that answer your question?”

  They both started laughing.

  “We do this a lot, don’t we?” Samantha said. “I’ve always loved this about you. Your sense of humor.”

  “I’ve learned not to take life too seriously most of the time. People create problems, many don’t bother to seek an answer when it’s right there in front of their eyes. I’ve turned to humor because it’s all around us. Plus, it’s a lot easier to laugh than cry. That’s a simple explanation, but it’s how I feel. I know there is tragedy in this world that I can’t even begin to fathom. I’m sure you’ve seen that side of the world in your work. I know it’s there, but I don’t put a voice to it in my day-to-day life. Does that make me sound uncaring?”

  Samantha patted her mother’s arm. “Not at all. You’ve discovered what works for you dealing with your life. Many don’t even have a clue, let alone a clear sense of why they think the way they do. You’re succinct, and that’s one more thing I love about you. I always know where I stand with you. Dad, he’s a bit harder to crack.”