Stress Relief

A bit suspicious, he though, so he checked them out online and found a reputable looking website full of scientific studies and both corporate and political endorsements. They decided that, even though it sounded a bit shifty, they would go through with it. The very next day, an overnight courier delivered the full details of the program in full-color splendor. Harold, still suspicious (due in part to his New England upbringing and distrust of just about everything) checked each destination listed on the itinerary. Again, it all checked out. The privately owned executive yacht Hypnos would visit five ports of unsurpassed beauty and seclusion. They would spend two nights and one full day at each port of call, and there would be from three to four days on the open ocean between each. All meals, drinks, and entertainment would be provided free of charge by the institute for the duration of the experiment, which would total just a hair over one full month.

The coldest month of the year for the frigid Massachusetts seacoast, too, Marylyn was fond of pointing out.

****

Wednesday morning, Marylyn woke early after a restless night. Perhaps it was the unusual silence from the baby monitor, or perhaps it was simply the anticipation that kept Marylyn from sleeping. Little Charlie had spent the night at her mother’s, where he would be watched with care during their absence. Marylyn didn’t like being away from Charlie for so long, and had tried to persuade the institute to allow him to come. They refused. Sense dictated that the Putrinskis would be unable to fully relax if they had to care for a child, and there were no suitable childcare facilities onboard the Hypnos. To make amends, the Institute was willing to provide a generous stipend to Marylyn’s parents; it just couldn’t be refused. The whole thing was simply too good to be true.

Harold of course was sleeping soundly and loudly, as if this were not going to be the best day of their lives—as if a month of bliss were not about to be handed to the Putrinskis on a finely engraved, heirloom-quality silver platter. She reflexively went to let out the dogs; a pointless reflex because, like the cats, the dogs were being cared for in a luxurious resort of their own—the Paws and Putty-Tats Pet Kennels and Playground—courtesy of none other then the American Institute of Relaxation. Finding herself in the kitchen with nothing to do, she set the coffee on and re-checked their luggage. Three very large suitcases were stuffed to overflowing with evening-, casual- and beach- wear; with shampoos and shaving gear; with clean socks and underwear. Marylyn even packed a fancy new dress that she bought online the week before. It had a low-cut neckline and a flattering fit—the sort of dress that she hadn’t a reason to wear for over fifteen years. She wasn’t entirely certain that she would need it now, but she felt like dancing and so was determined to be dressed for the occasion should the opportunity arise.

A honk from the drive surprised her. It was only eight o’clock in the morning, and Harold was still asleep upstairs. She herself was wearing a pair of flannel pajamas and—over that—Harold’s heavier terry robe. Bracing the cold, she shuffled out as she was to explain tot he limo driver that they weren’t ready yet. They hadn’t been expecting the car for another hour at least, and would it be all right to come back in a bit?

"No hurries, ma’am. I’ll just sit here quiet-like and wait. No hurries, no worries." and then he quickly added an extra "ma’am" for good measure.