Libby looks out the window at the scenery: palm trees, sandy beaches, blue skies. She smiles at the serenity.
Only two days ago, she was in the concrete city; the sun’s brightness reflected off the buildings and created a stuffy heat. She had to get out, if only for a few days.
Perception is everything, Libby thinks now, leaning on the window frame. In the city, she is stressed and stretched. Everything is too much. But here, on the beach, with this view, she is loose and relaxed. She changes into her bikini and leaves her apartment for the beach.
Throwing a towel over a pool lounge, under the shade of an umbrella, she settles in. She rubs sunscreen over her arms and chest and lies back with her book. For hours all she does is read, swim and nap, on an endless repeat cycle. Hunger and thirst is what draws her off the beach, to the holiday complex’s restaurant.
The waitress comes over as soon as Libby takes a seat. ‘What can I get for you today?’
‘Burger and mineral water, please,’ responds Libby. It strikes her that the waitress looks beautiful, calm. Her face is soft and pleasant; her eyes sparkle. It’s obvious to Libby that this lifestyle agrees with the waitress. She continues, ‘How long have you worked here?’
‘Oh about five years now,’ she answers with a smile. ‘I stayed after a holiday. Refused to go back home. Sent my resignation to my boss from over here, via email. Told my boyfriend he could stay with me, or go back. Didn’t care,’ she grins showing perfect white teeth.
‘What did he do?’ Libby ponders out loud.
‘Stayed. He’s the manager of another resort, just down the road.’
‘Did you find a place to live without too much trouble?’
‘There’s a suite, on-site at his resort. Came with the job.’
‘Won’t be long,’ the waitress offers, indicating Libby’s order, before walking off.
As she waits, Libby’s mind explodes; an epiphany cascades like a tsunami. She’s going to do it.
‘What’s your name?’ Libby asks when the waitress returns.
‘Brooke,’ she responds, placing a bottle of mineral water in front of Libby. ‘Burger won’t be long.’
‘Wait,’ Libby grabs Brooke’s forearm as she turns away. ‘Sorry, I just want to know more about living here. I’m thinking I might do what you did.’
‘Oh sure, yeah. Ask away.’
‘You reckon I could get a job? A place to live?’
‘Probably. I’ll ask around. How long you holidaying here for?’
‘I’ll be here for a week.’
‘Sit tight. I’ll get back to you.’
Libby smiles her thanks. She relaxes back into her chair, sips her water and plots her new life.