Scarlett thanked the woman, trying her best not to fidget or act impatient at her over-attentiveness. Thankfully, Valerie took the hint after that and excused herself, leaving Scarlett to explore the rest of the casita on her own.
The first thing she noticed as she walked inside the spacious bedroom was not the huge king sized bed, or the French doors that opened onto a private, enclosed patio, or even the fact that there was a second flat panel TV. Rather, her gaze was immediately drawn to the item that had been left in the center of the huge bed.
It was gray and white, not pink, though it did have a rather clumsily tied pink satin bow around its neck. But it was just as big as Hannah’s stuffed pony - the one Scarlett had coveted and wept over like a broken hearted toddler - and she knew without having to ask that this was Jackson’s work.
She jumped on the bed, cuddling the pony tightly against her, and buried her face against its soft fur. Her tears left a damp spot on the stuffed toy, but this time they were tears of happiness and not of overwhelming sadness.
Scarlett propped herself to a sitting position, both the multitude of pillows and the padded headboard providing more than enough support, but kept her precious stuffed pony - whom she’d already named Penny - close by her side. It was only then she noticed two more lavish bouquets of flowers, one on each nightstand. The one to her left was of cheerful yellow sunflowers and blue iris, while the other vase held more roses - these a mix of delicate white, the palest of pink, and the most exquisite shade of lavender she’d ever seen.
There was also an envelope that had been left next to the vase of roses, her name written on it in a bold scrawl, and she tore it open eagerly.
Scarlett,
Sorry for the delay in sending you these flowers. I should have thought ahead and made sure some were delivered to your hospital room the day you had the procedure done. I’m an idiot, though I’m pretty sure you already knew that.
And sorry the pony isn’t pink, I looked at five different toy stores and this was the best I could do. Hey, at least I was able to find some pink ribbon!
Hope you enjoy your gifts, and especially your stay at the resort for the next couple of weeks. Let me know how you’re doing, okay?
All the best,
Jackson
She set aside his note, knowing that he was doing his best to make the last few days up to her. And while his note couldn’t be considered as being particularly intimate, it still meant a whole lot that he’d taken the time to handwrite this message to her. She re-folded the sheet of notepaper and slipped it back inside the envelope before placing it inside a zippered pocket of her backpack.
The duffel bag she’d brought with her, along with a brand new, expensive looking suitcase, had been set in one corner of the bedroom. The larger than normal lunch she’d consumed, coupled with the resulting fatigue from her hospital ordeal, was making her sleepy, and the idea of curling up on that sumptuous bed with her new pony and taking an afternoon nap sounded awfully tempting. But, she realized with a sigh, she probably shouldn’t leave her stuff folded up in the baggage since it would take that much longer for any wrinkles to fall out.
With each article of clothing that she unpacked, she quickly realized Jackson had bought her far more than just the “few outfits” he’d oh so casually mentioned during the drive over here. After she had finished hanging up all of the clothes - sundresses, cotton skirts, capri pants, an assortment of coordinating tops - Scarlett counted at least two dozen different outfits. And that didn’t include the items she had folded and stored inside the dresser - workout gear, shorts, nightgowns, underthings - or the half dozen pair of shoes she had arranged on the floor of the closet.
He had even thought to include three bathing suits - each of them a one-piece, since he would have known instinctively about her refusal to expose her ugly scar in public. Fortunately, all three of the suits would more than adequately cover that part of her body up.
She should be furious, she told herself as she placed the now empty luggage inside the roomy closet. Furious that he had been so arrogant and bossy about picking these things out for her, especially when he was well aware how proud she was, and how she hated when anyone felt sorry for her. But, she admitted to herself with a heavy sigh, there was no point in denying the fact that she would have stood out like a sore thumb - a really raggedy, threadbare one - at this fancy ass resort. While all of the guests she’d seen thus far had been casually dressed, it was also very obvious that their idea of casual and hers were worlds apart. Without the nice clothes Jackson had bought for her, she would have both looked and felt completely out of place here.
Besides, she realized with a sleepy yawn, she was just too fucking worn out - physically, mentally, and emotionally - to argue with the man right now. Under normal circumstances she’d be spitting mad, threatening to burn the stupid clothes or defiantly wear her own grubby jeans and T-shirts and the flip flops being held together with duct tape into the elegant dining room. But she’d been put through the wringer the past few days, and could barely function, much less get into a fight with anyone.
Before curling up next to her brand-new pony for a much needed nap, however, she did pull out her phone to send Jackson a quick text.
Just wanted to say thanks for everything. The clothes are gorgeous, and even though I should be pissed off at you for buying them, I’ll admit to being weak and materialistic and tell you how much I like them. I’m guessing you had all the flowers sent, too, so thanks. Glad you didn’t send red roses, because they really aren’t my thing (but I’m assuming you already knew that somehow). The pony is my favorite thing, and I don’t care what color it is. All I can say is that she’s coming home with me in two weeks, so if they don’t let me carry her onboard the plane you’d better bring a really big suitcase.
Scarlett set the phone aside, not expecting to hear from him for awhile. She toed her shoes off, arranged a couple of pillows, and turned down the plush duvet. But right before her head touched the pillow, her phone pinged with an incoming text that she knew had to be from Jackson.
Glad you like the clothes, and it wouldn’t matter how pissed off you were, I’d still insist you keep them. Knowing you wouldn’t be a red roses sort of girl was a lucky guess on my part, but happy to learn my instincts were correct. As for the pony, we’ll figure something out. Worst case, I’ll buy it a seat of its own on the plane. I’m on my way to a work site right now, but I’ll message you in a few hours to see how you’re doing. Take care of yourself, Scarlett.
As she settled in for that much needed nap, one arm looped around her new pony, a smile of pure contentment teased the corners of her mouth, and she fell into a deep, restful sleep almost instantly.
***
Ten Days Later
Scarlett vaulted out of the pool that she’d had more or less to herself for the past thirty minutes and padded on bare feet to the chaise lounge where she’d left her towel and flip flops. Even this early in the morning the air was still hot and dry, so much so that she barely needed to towel herself off. As she dried off her legs, she smiled to noticed the subtle peachy glow her skin had taken on this past week and a half, mostly from these early morning swims. She had also put on several pounds, so that her new clothes fit a little better, and her cheekbones weren’t quite as pronounced. Most importantly, she realized with something of a shock, she not only felt healthier, well rested, and refreshed, she was actually happy for what might have been one of the very, very few times in her life.