by Avery Aster
She waved those long bedazzled manicured nails my way. “Don’t be silly. It’s a very posh place. Check out the invitation we got.” She pointed to the dresser near the balcony doors.
I got up and walked over to the dresser. On top lay the invitation that was the size of a postcard. I picked up the thick linen paper and looked at the words elegantly scrawled in gold-embossed script. It read Invitation to Eden. Then beneath that in smaller print, attendees Mr. and Mrs. Carl Watts. At the bottom in very fine print but still pretty and gold-embossed were all the particulars. Private plane from Miami, cottage on the beach, all food and drinks included.
This was a place I needed to go. A week of doing nothing but lying on the beach with a drink in my hand. No cares. Nothing to worry about except getting sand out of the crack of my ass. Just sun and fun and maybe an island fling or two. It was just what I needed to get my life in order. I had to go.
“Can’t you pay for another ticket to go?” I looked at my mom.
She clucked her tongue. “That’s not how it works, Ivy. You have to be invited. We didn’t plan to go, it just came as a surprise.”
“Well that’s just stupid.”
“It’s just stupid because you can’t come with us.” She walked into her ensuite bathroom.
She was right. I hated that I couldn’t go with them. There had to be something I could do about it. I left to go to my bedroom and I took the invitation with me. My mom wouldn’t miss it right now.
I booted up my laptop and sat on the bed with it. I googled the island of Eden. There were basically only two listings about it. One was a travel guide for the resort on the island. It had pictures of the place – an imposing medieval looking castle as the main resort and a bunch of cottages on the beach near the startling blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The reviews of the place were ambiguous and didn’t say much of anything about the place, except how ‘magical’ it had been. In fact every review on the site used that term.
The other listing was a Vanity Fair article from a few years ago about a billionaire named Theodosius Vardalos. He was the man who bought the island and made it into a private resort. There really wasn’t much else about him or Eden, except that it was supposed to be a place where dreams come true.
What a bunch of hokey crap.
I scrolled for more, but there really wasn’t anything of use. So I decided to go through the images. There were surprisingly few pictures from the island that people had posted. I would’ve thought if the place was that amazing, there would be thousands of photos bragging about that. But if I counted there were no more than forty.
I clicked on each one, studying them. Not sure what I was looking for, but I just wanted to make sure that my parents weren’t going to some cheap dive place that they’d be in danger of being mugged or stolen from. My parents weren’t staggeringly rich but they did pretty well and I didn’t want to see them being taken advantage of.
And I was looking for a way to get an invite.
Each photo was of pristine clear blue waters, white sand, and happy people. There was none of inside the castle type resort. I thought that was weird considering it was a castle. I mean, the interior had to be all gothicy and cool. There was one picture of an excited couple in front of the marble-like stone steps leading up to the main doors. One of the women in the photo was holding up her invitation. I zoomed in on it.
Then I grinned.
There was a phone number on the bottom of her invitation. It must’ve been a confirmation number or something so if people needed to cancel or change their plans they could. I didn’t care what it was for; I was going to use it.
I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the number. It was a long one with zeroes and ones in front of it. So their head office had to be in Europe somewhere.
A woman with a thick accent answered on the third ring.
“Hello Ms. Graham. This is Nicole. How may I be of service?”
Oops.
“Ah, this isn’t Ms. Graham.”
“Then to whom am I speaking?”
“My name is Ivy Watts.”
“Did you receive an invitation from Eden, Ivy?”
I wanted to lie, but I suspected she would know the truth. She probably already inputted my name into her computer system and knew there was no Ivy Watts in their database.
“No, but I was hoping there was a way I could get in.”
“How did you find out about Eden?”
“My parents have an invitation.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Carl Watts?”
“Yes and I was hoping that I could tag along. They have a beach cottage, so you wouldn’t even need to book me a room. I could sleep on the sofa or even on the floor. I’ve slept in worse places.”
“I’m sorry Ivy, but our selection process is very rigid and discerning. Those who receive invitations, do so because they are in need of this place. Not just anyone can come to Eden.”
“Look, Nicole, I need this trip. More than my parents do. They are wealthy and happy people. Their lives are perfection. What could this island possibly offer them, except a fun time?” I couldn’t stop the snide remarks. I didn’t like how this woman was talking to me, like I was an indignant child having a tantrum.
“You’d be surprised.”
“Is this Eden like a therapeutic place for couples or something? Is that why I can’t reserve a spot?”
“In a way.”
I rubbed at my nose, then mumbled, “Perfect. Just another kick in the ass that I needed today.”
“I’m sorry Ivy…”
“No, it’s fine. I’m just having a shit day, you know? And I saw pictures of this place and I thought heck yeah I could really use some fun and sun on some beautiful island away from all of this crap I have to deal with.”
She didn’t respond, so I just kept my stream of consciousness going.
“I got dumped by this guy today. He was cheating on me. And I don’t want to admit that it really hurt. People think I’m all tough and cynical, you know, but I’m not.” Angry tears were starting to fall again. I wiped at them. “And I quit college too. I just don’t want to be there. It makes no sense. I mean, I don’t even know what I want to do with my life. And I miss my friends and my family, and they’re all mad at me, well my dad is, he thinks I’m just wasting my life and that I’m not focused and I won’t amount to anything. And my mom probably thinks I should just find a rich husband and have babies. She’s always going on about how pretty I am and I should use that to my advantage.” I took a shuddering breath. While I’d gushed all of that out, I ended up sitting on the floor, my back against the wall. My knees were up and I had my arm wrapped around them. Tears had spotted my legs.
I took in another deep breath and sighed. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry I just dumped that on you. I’m going to hang up now…”
“Ivy, please hold for a moment.”
There was a soft click, then instrumental music came on. She was probably going to get her manager or something and that person was probably going to give me an ear full for calling and wasting Nicole’s time. I couldn’t believe I just unloaded on a complete stranger. But surprisingly I felt better. She was a good listener. Not like my parents who always interjected with their own biased advice. And sometimes my friends who always brought up my past behavior as a reason this new shit was happening to me. I knew they meant well, but it sucked to keep having past mistakes thrown in your face time and time again.
“Ivy?”
“Look, I’m so sorry I called. It was a mistake. I’m just going to hang up now.”
“Your invitation to Eden will be sent to you by tomorrow. Are you at the same address as your parents?”
Chapter Three
After a five hour flight to Miami, we were picked up by a private car and driven to a private airstrip. A single teeny tiny plane waited there for us. My gut dropped.
“Ah, where’s the rest of the plane?”
My mom put her around me. “Where’s your sense of adventu
re, Ivy?”
A young woman in khaki’s and a black top waited for us at the base of the small staircase to the plane. She smiled and extended her hand to my dad first.
“Mr. Watts. I’m Joely, your pilot.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said as he climbed the stairs.
She shook my mom’s hand, then looked at me. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”
“I might.”
“Well, if you do, we’ll just buckle you in and wake you when we land.” She gave me a cheeky smile.
“Awesome.”
I climbed the steps and entered the plane. It was really small inside. There were seats for eight people and that was it. My mom and dad filled two of those seats and the rest were empty. I slid into a set opposite them, but not next to the window. I wasn’t normally a bad flyer, but the size of the plane had my knees shaking. It would be so much easier to burst into a ball of flames and die than in a normal bigger plane where there was room to run from the fire.
I buckled in, as our pilot Joely settled herself into the cockpit. My mom and dad looked positively giddy when the engines turned over with a loud rush. I had to look away from them. They were making me even more nervous. I took out my cell phone, plugging in my earbuds and pushed play on my music. If I was going to die, I’d do it with Deadmau5 blasting in my ears.
Two hours later, after a fairly smooth ride, we landed in the water and moored next to a really long wooden dock. When I stepped out, I had to put my hand on my dad’s shoulder to steady myself.
“That was invigorating,” he said.
“Says who.”
“Enjoy your stay on Eden.” Joely gave me a thumbs up.
I shook my head at her. She really wasn’t much of a welcome party for the resort. Now, I’d wished I’d looked out the window as we flew over. My mom and dad oohed and aahed at the beauty of the place before we landed. Maybe if I’d seen the splendor of the island then I wouldn’t be feeling like I’d just made a big mistake in coming here.
I grabbed my bag and followed my parents down the long dock. As we walked I totally thought of the show Lost. They had a dock just like this on their island.
When we reached the end and stepped down onto one of three paths, a friendly looking woman greeted us there. Her name tag read Connie Hendrickson, and she wore simple yet elegant drawstring pants, and a sleeveless blouse. She looked a lot cooler than I felt with the humidity pressing down on me. Thankfully I had my hair in a high ponytail or else it would’ve been wilting around my face.
“Welcome to Eden Mr. and Mrs. Watts.” She smiled at my parents, then at me. “And Ivy. Welcome.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“I will get you all checked into your respective quarters.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m just bunking with my parents in their cottage.”
“I believe we have a lovely room in the castle for you Ivy.”
“Really?”
She nodded, just as she led us around a copse of palm trees and into a courtyard to reveal the castle. Not watching where I was walking, I stumbled on a small rock and flailed out my arms to stop from falling. I felt like a clumsy fool but to be honest the view had knocked me back a bit.
It wasn’t that I’d never seen a castle before. I had. I’d had a summer in Europe when I’d been sixteen. My parents took me, Violet and Dahlia to London, Germany and France. I’d toured a castle in Germany that Disney used as a model for their fairytale castle. And it was impressive, but the one in front of me seemed even more so. Maybe because it was on a tropical island where it had no business being. It was out of place and odd but at the same time I loved it.
Connie gestured for us to follow her up the stone steps to the front doors of the resort. They were beveled stained glass like from a gothic cathedral, but when we approached they slid open with a quiet shhh. The past and the future seamlessly fused together.
The lobby was dark and it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust from the brightness outside. I blinked away black spots to see deep red and purple rugs thrown over dark marble tiles. All the furnishings, including the front ‘counter’ were also dark and heavy looking. Dimly lit candle holders embellished the already majestic walls. It was like walking into a Ren faire. I was surprised there weren’t serving wenches offering me steins of ail and knights offering to joust for my honor.
Connie picked up a folder from the front counter and opened it. She handed my mom and dad two card keys. “This is for your cottage, which I will show you.” Then she handed me a different colored card key. “This is for your room.”
I took the key as another woman arrived. She was younger than Connie, but dressed similarly. Her name tag said Laura Dunlap.
“This is Laura, and she will be your personal concierge,” Connie said.
“If you will follow me Ivy.” She gestured to the side.
I glanced at my parents. “So I guess I’ll see you later? What’s the name of your cottage? I can come by.”
Connie nudged my parents the other way. “I’m sure you’ll be fine on your own, Ivy. Your parents will be having a completely different holiday experience than you.” She continued to coax them away.
“Um, okay?”
My mom waved to me. “Have fun darling.”
I waved back, completely perplexed. Were they really not going to let me see my parents while I was here? What kind of resort was this? Maybe I’d made a huge mistake in coming.
As Laura led me toward the elevators which were cleverly hidden behind stone walls, I asked, “This isn’t some kind of cult place is it? Where they reprogram you or something?”
She laughed, and it was so loud and infectious that I did as well.
“Oh my goodness, no.” We arrived at the elevator, the door slid open and we went in. She pressed the fourth floor, and the elevator lifted. I wondered how many floors this place had, because from the outside it didn’t look all that tall.
“Well, what kind of place is this?”
“Eden is an island resort where you can relax and have fun without any fears or reservations.”
It still sounded culty to me.
“Your experience will be tailor made for you. It is whatever you need it to be.”
We arrived at my floor, and she led me to room 408. Eight was my favorite number, so maybe this was going to be a good week. She slid the card key into the door lock and opened the door. She gestured for me to enter.
I walked into a dream, the room was so beautiful. Deep reds and purples made up most of the color palette. The carpet was a gold color, and was sporadically covered by luxurious rugs that seemed from a by-gone era, like the castle itself. The living room had a sofa in burgundy with a ton of throw pillows. A heavy looking dark wooden table sat in front of it. On top of the table was a vase full of dark red roses. They were my favorite.
Near the bank of windows was a small table with two chairs, both high-backed and regal looking. On that table sat a welcoming gift basket. I spied a bottle of wine and two glasses. Not sure who I was going to share it with, but the day was young. Maybe there would be other singles on the island, probably the resort help. And I was sure there would be a worthy candidate in the mix.
“This is the bedroom.” Laura slid open the thick ornate mahogany doors.
The bed was huge. Made out of dark wood it had a sturdy frame and a canopy. The curtains were red and gold and purple. I felt like Marie Antoinette or someone wealthy and important and royal. I just hoped I didn’t lose my head on the island.
“It’s amazing.” I sat on the bed. I looked around and noticed my luggage already set up in the corner of the room.
“So, what would you like to do first?”
“Do you have a pool and a bar?”
She smiled. “Yes, we do.”
“Then let’s start there.”
After I put on my tiniest bikini, modest cover-up, and flip flops, Laura escorted me through the resort and out the back to the coolest pool area I’d ever s
een. There were in fact two pools, separated by a line of cabanas. Both pools were long and rectangular but they seemed to go on forever right into the ocean. In the corner of each pool was a swim up bar. This was exactly what I needed.
“Perfect,” I said.
“If you need anything else just let me know.” Laura left me to it.
I found an empty lounge chair, stripped off my cover-up, toed off my flip flops and dove into the pool. The water was the perfect temperature. Cool enough to refresh but warm enough that I wasn’t shivering when I came up.
After a few laps, I swam over to the bar. I loved the water. I’d been a competitive swimmer when I’d been younger, but lost interest in it, as my mom would say, like lots of other things I’d been good at. I sat on the stool which was submersed in the water up to my waist and set my hands on the counter.
The bartender smiled at me. “What can I get you?”
He was cute, like in a One Direction kind of way with his floppy dark hair, chin scruff and British accent. He would definitely be a great flirtation for the week. I was definitely not looking for anything more than that. This holiday was all about me. Chilling. Filling the well. Figuring out my next move.
“Your name.”
“Chad.”
“Make me something special, Chad, just for me.”
“Okay. What’s your name?”
“Ivy.”
He went to work on my drink, adding this and that, until he set something icy and green in front of me. “Here you go.”
“What’s it called?”
“Hmm, let’s call it Poison Ivy.” His smile widened, and I noticed a dimple on his right cheek.
I smiled back, then took a sip. It was fruity and refreshing. “I like it.”
“Good, then that will be the drink of the day.” He reached for the chalkboard propped up against the bar where all his glasses were, and wrote Poison Ivy is the drink of the day! He set it down and within seconds another patron at the bar, four stools down asked for one.
“You’re cute,” I said, as I sucked back the rest of the drink and pushed my empty toward him. “I’ll take one more.”