A Priestess in a Bathrobe

I’m in the health club Derek has built out in the countryside. I think it is a hobby project. It has a gym, a pool, two tennis courts and a little café bar.

If I have not told you already, Derek also owns a small chain of pharmacies.

After swimming for a while, I got into the jacuzzi. Derek came and joined me. He was wearing khaki cargo pants. He just took off his orange T-shirt and sandals and got in.

Then, to my surprise, Jess came in from the changing room, gingerly got into the pool, and did a slow, leisurely backstroke for about twenty lengths.

After she had swum, she made a kind of turban with her towel and put on a bathrobe over her swimsuit.

I saw her look over at us and hesitate.

Then she came over, laid her robe on a lounger, and joined us in the jacuzzi.

“A priestess in a bathrobe. Busy week,” said Derek, “two funerals, I hear.”

She frowned pointedly at him, as if to say “Don’t go there” and then looked over at me in a sympathetic questioning way.

Derek obviously did not know about my sister’s death.

Derek seemed to be resuming an argument. “Try to understand the molecular chain that makes tryptophan, which is an amino acid – it’ll probably drive you crazy. Most people are simpletons. That’s why some of us need a god, isn’t it?”

She said: “I minister to those who suffer. We all suffer.”

“Do you believe the Bible?” he said.

“For me”, she said, “it is just the most beautiful book I ever read. Don’t you love some beautiful things?” she said.

He did not reply. I suppose he was thinking.