Mary Beth slid further down—and down some more—until her ears were underwater. She gazed up at the spa’s domed ceiling, decorated with crystal stars and a blue moon. The hot water lapped soothingly around her cheeks and her strawberry blond hair floated free. She hummed blissfully. No one needed her here. No one could even find her here. She could float forever.

Instrumental music, vaguely exotic and relaxing, was pulsing softly through hidden speakers when she finally rose up and pressed the water out of her hair with both hands. Rivulets ran over her breasts and back. “I feel so much better.”

“Bet Bobby Joe would love to see you like that.”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean, maybe? Does he know how lucky he is to have you? You’re at the hospital every day. Some folks were wondering if you’d moved out of Iminga.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Mary Beth sank back under the steaming water, not looking at Jackie. She heard noises from the other tub, like Jackie was adjusting her position or rewrapping her turban. Without looking over in her direction, she reached for a rolled towel and put it under her neck, then closed her eyes.

A minute later, a deluge of cold water over her head made her gasp. Jackie waved a long-handled dipper at her. “What possessed you to do that?” Mary Beth shrieked. Shivering, she grabbed a warmed towel and threw it over her shoulders.

“If you go from hot to cold, it blasts wrinkles.”

“Are you trying to say that I have them? Because I don’t. I’m twenty-five.”

Jackie used the dipper to pour cold water over her flawless face. “Preventive maintenance is crucial to preserving your youthful freshness.”

Mary Beth rubbed her face with another warmed towel, muffling her laughter. “Are you reading from that brochure?”

“No. I memorized it. I love this place. I intend to preserve my youthful freshness until I’m a hundred and five.”

“Good luck.” Mary Beth sank back down. They had the hot tub room to themselves at two in the afternoon. Jackie worked nights as a hostess in an expensive restaurant and Mary Beth still hadn’t gone back to her day job.

“You need to take better care of yourself, Mary Beth.”

“If I had more energy, I would. But I’m just worn out,” she admitted. “There’s more to do every day. It’s like I don’t know where I am sometimes.”

“You want my advice?” Jackie asked. “Be a little selfish sometimes.”

“I can’t.” Mary Beth had used up all the warmth in the towel over her bare shoulders, and it was damp from her drenched hair. She dragged it off and set it aside, reaching for another one that was nice and dry, and snuggled up in it. “You ever been in a hospital for a long stay or had someone you love in one?”