"Could you at least smile and pretend that you're having a good time?" Arlene Taylor leaned over and whispered to her companion across the table. "It's only our first night here and people are already beginning to stare."
The slightly morose expression on her friend's face faded to be replaced by the sought after smile. In the same quiet voice she answered her dinner partner.
"I am enjoying myself." Jeanette Randolph replied. "I was just thinking how much this little trip is costing you."
"That's right, costing me, not you." the 37 year old blonde quickly agreed. "I wanted you to come along and have a chance to unwind. Get a little crazy. Have some fun for a change."
"I have fun." said the 34 year brunette.
"Sitting at home night after night making up new lesson plans isn't what I'm talking about." Arlene said in a corrective tone. "That's why I wanted to get you away from all that."
"Well that you certainly did." Jeanette finally agreed.
It was something of an understatement. Actually, the small dinner table they were sitting at was in the near center of a large dinning hall. The hall was the main room of an 72 year old mansion that had housed four generations of her owners. The house itself was on the far edge of a tropical resort that could easily accommodated five hundred guests in delightful style. Finally, the resort was situated on the southern tip of the tiny Caribbean island of San Cristobal, some three thousand miles from the two women's home in upstate New York.
The resort was known world wide as Scarlett's Cove and it catered to small, select clientele. As lavish as any of the nearby Club Meds, its purpose was much the same. The one major difference was self evident as Jeanette again glanced around the large room. It was a resort for women only, specifically lesbian and bisexual women.
This of course was no problem for either Jeanette or Arlene. Jeanette Randolph had been aware of her preference for women since she was 16 years old. It was not however a preference she had ever been comfortable with expressing publicly. Even today, the history teacher from Arrow Lake couldn't escape the fear that someone would see her in such a place.
On the other hand, Arlene's attraction to her own sex had only developed rather recently. Up until two years ago, she had been married to a rather successful and influential member of the community. It was almost ten years into their marriage that she discovered that her husband had a long history of extra-marital encounters. When confronted, Collin Taylor had told her if she didn't like it, well then she knew where the door was. Any real love for each other had faded half way through their marriage when it was evident that she wouldn't be presenting the Taylor Dynasty with an heir.
Unable to turn to any of her so called friends who cared more about social standing than anything else, Arlene had drifted into an affair with a woman she met at the local health club. To her immense delight, she discovered that sleeping with another woman brought out in her a passion that was never evident in her relations with Collin or prior lovers. The affair hadn't lasted long, but it had changed the course of her life.
After a few months, she had finally gotten the courage to seek a divorce from Collin. Arlene realized all too well that despite his history of infidelity, Collin still held all the cards. If ever knowledge of her own lesbian affair came out in a court hearing, she could be left with nothing. It wasn't fair but it was the way it was.
Then, out of the blue, Collin did the most considerate thing he'd ever done in the fourteen years they'd know each other. The 45 year old businessman suffered a massive coronary one Friday afternoon while humping one of his new 20 year old secretaries. While she never really wanted Collin dead, just out of her life, the now widowed woman was more than willing to take her freedom anyway she could. And if nothing else, she could take some small comfort knowing that Collin had left this life doing something that he enjoyed.
Since neither had actually initiated divorce proceedings, Arlene had inherited the bulk of the Taylor Estate. It wasn't considered good manners in polite company to discuss just how large that estate was, but it turned out to be much more than Arlene knew. Secure in her financial future, she had set out to enjoy her life. At a charity function at the local high school, Arlene had rekindled an old friendship with Jeanette. They had been close friends during their last two years at Washington High, despite the difference in their ages. Quickly reestablishing the confidences they once shared, Arlene had confessed her new sexual preference.
She was greatly surprised when Jeanette responded that she'd been aware of the delights of lesbian sex since the days of their first friendship. In another reality, the two women might have now become lovers in a passionate but brief affair. But in the here and now, Jeanette was involved in a relationship now going into it's fourth year and not the type for casual infidelity. Arlene, on the other hand delighted in the constant thrill of new and casual encounters. So the two women had become even closer friends instead.
"I still can't get over this place." Jeanette said as she finished her panorama of the room. "Who ever came up with this place?"
Jeanette had never even heard of Scarlett's Cove until they switched planes in Jamaica and Arlene sprung it on her. Originally she'd thought they were going to Jamaica.
"Take a look at the painting over on that wall." Arlene said in response as she pointed to a large portrait hanging over a fireplace.
Jeanette followed her friend's direction until she focused on the image. The young woman in the painting appeared to be in her mid-twenties. Long flaming red hair that stretched down to her waist was the first thing you noticed, framing a creamy white complexion that in turn was set off by dazzling emerald eyes. The gown she wore was low cut, revealing a healthy bosom that was just as soft white as her face.
"That is Miss Scarlett McMurphy." Arlene said. "And this house and just about everything around it for twenty miles belongs to the McMurphy family. Back in the twenties, her grandfather came to the Caribbean to seek his fortune and like so many others, he found it. Unlike most of the families that established incredibly profitable enterprises on the islands, Sean McMurphy was a man of conscience. From the very beginning, he put part of every dollar he made here back into the island. He built the first hospital, then the school. His son continued the tradition, sending the best and the brightest of the island's young men and women off to colleges in the States. By the time most of the Caribbean Republics had degenerated into petty dictatorships in the 40's and 50's, San Cristobal was the jewel in the lake with a healthy, well educated population."
Jeanette listened fascinated. She had a degree in history yet had never heard of this island until yesterday.
"That's just to give you a little broad background." Arlene continued. "The story of Scarlett McMurphy began in 1928 when she was born right here in this house. Her grandfather was so taken by her that first time he looked at his newborn heir that he immediately christened this cove - Scarlett's Cove. Back in those days, few people said no to Sean McMurphy."
"But what's that got to do with this resort?" Jeanette inquired.
"Patience, I'm getting to that." the older woman continued. "Michael McMurphy only had two other children, an older son, Sean Michael and a younger daughter, Mary. Sean died in combat during World War II, so Scarlett was now the oldest and heir apparent. By the early fifties, Scarlett had already attended some of the best schools in the world and took control of the day to day operations of the family business.
While it quickly became obvious that she had inherited both her father and grandfather's business sense, it was also apparent that she had a spirit that really didn't fit into the somewhat conservative 1950's. Even more so, it was noticed more and more that she spent most of her time in the company of other young women and there was a definite lack of male companionship in her life. This wasn't for lack of offers, as you can see from that portrait she was a beauty. Rumors began to circulate, but not too loudly and definitely not within earshot of "Big Mike" McMurphy.
A story went around that some cheap tabloid was going to do a story about Scarlett that all but called her a dyke in print. Legend has it that some friend's of "Big Mike" visited the owner of that magazine late one night. No one really knows what really happened but the story never saw print and the company went out of business within six months.
Scarlett continued to run the family business until the mid seventies when she suddenly turned control over to her two nephews, the sons of her sister, Mary and retired to the island. A year later she opened Scarlett's Cove. A place where women like her could come and be themselves for a week or two, away from a prying world."
