Chapter 2- Sophie

Sophie sat at her little pine Ikea kitchen table, elated to be the first person awake so she could take her time reading the newspaper on the web, watering the plants and drinking her coffee. Halfway through the first cup, she realized it was Friday, the Islamic holy day and there would at least be no 3Weeks to worry about today. She got up, swirled her waist-length blonde curls into a big sloppy bun and pinned it to the back of her head before heading outside to water her collection of flowering desert plants.

Sophie dreaded running into her own neighbor, Phyllis. A tall black-haired Canadian, Phyllis was famous for ranting at the neighborhood children, complaining about other peoples landscaping choices, and generally making life miserable for everyone unfortunate enough to be on her radar. Sophie’s relationship with Phyllis had been tense ever since Sophie’s daughter had written “Aliens have landed” on the road outside her carport in huge blue chalk letters with giant pink stars and yellow arrows pointing at their door.

Sophie and Gene had tried to reprimand Sue for it but with Freddie and Chris collapsed in laughter on the front stoop, they didn’t get far. Gene’s attempts to hide his guffaws hadn’t helped the situation and Phyllis came screaming around their gate that they were horrible parents who couldn’t be bothered to discipline their children. Sophie had lost her temper with Phyllis that day and a relationship which had been tense, officially turned sour.

Phyllis and Heather’s husband Bill were close. He spent a lot of time eating at her house when Heather was out of town, supposedly looking for work. There were lots of rumors that Phyllis had a thing for Bill and she was just waiting out the collapse of Bill and Heather’s marriage. Sophie didn’t think much of this but Jonah and Gene had come home one night chuckling about what Phyllis had worn to a cocktail party and how she had behaved toward Bill.

Evidently, she arrived at the party with her ample five foot eight-inch frame squeezed into a tiny Ed Hardy t-shirt, her breasts spilling over the neckline, a black micro-mini (with a leather strap running between her legs!) and a pair of thigh-high leather boots to complete the outfit. Sophie could imagine the altogether stunning effect of this costume, especially since Phyllis, like her, was not a slender woman. Gene called the ensemble “Pure porno, like Pam Anderson, only mean.” And both men joked about how she had come up behind Bill and pressed her chest into his back while whispering in his ear.

Sophie shuddered at the idea of these parties, having vowed never to attend one again after a heated exchange with a drunken Frenchwoman over her accusation that all Americans were “bellicose”. At least we don’t have anything going on today she thought as she splashed her plants with water. She desperately wanted a cigarette but was making an effort to quit.

Chris and Sue got up and Sophie was inspired to encourage them to turn on the TV while she paid a little visit to Gene. In front of the wall-width bathroom mirror she pulled off her shorts and t-shirt and shook out her hair. Using it to cover her body in a way she knew Gene loved, she turned to each side. Assessing herself in the mirror, and mostly happy with what she saw, Sophie whispered “not bad for 38.” and walked into their bedroom where Gene was asleep. She slipped into the bed next to him and started gently kissing his forehead… “Hi there, gorgeous!” Gene said groggily.

Around 9, they headed out for the pool club at the Habibti Hotel. They had discussed it for an hour after Sophie woke Gene up, going back and forth about the Heather situation and how bad the gossiping might be. She knew Mel would be there because her kids had tennis lessons, but she wasn’t wild about the crowd on Fridays, lots of airline families, lots of nasty talk, even when there wasn’t a big scandal on.

Eventually, Chris and Sue prevailed on them to go, with Freddie promising he would join them all for dinner that evening and stomping back off to bed. The Habibti, although a bit long-in-the-tooth by Dubai standards, did have an excellent kids club where younger kids could play games and sports and swim all day supervised by a group of smiling Philippinos who were basically paid to be charming and kind no matter what sort of mischief the gaggle of expat kids they were charged with got up to.

Sophie laughed at the memory of a particularly nasty little boy from New Zealand. Two of the workers, Maria and Juan had come to her. “Madam, we are so sorry, but Miss Sue has taken the little boy, Vincent, they locked him in a linen cage behind the playground.” Sophie had spit her drink laughing. Vincent was semi-famous for running amok around the Hababti pool each Friday while his parents enjoyed their brunch. He seemed to like whacking at people with his snorkel. Evidently, Sue and her friends had decided that Vincent should be caged if he was going to ‘behave like an animal’ a direct quote from Sophie. The hotel workers wanted Sophie to talk to his parents, they were terrified they might be fired if they broke the news. Vincent’s parents, to their credit, had taken it in stride and his general behavior on Fridays had improved a lot since then.

Sophie and Gene plunked themselves in slightly tattered beach loungers placed to give them an all-around view of the Kiddie pool with its three waterslides and L-shaped main pool featuring a disco-styled swim-up bar. Sophie felt a little giddy after her tryst with Gene that morning. She had noticed that sex between them had improved a lot with their move from Indiana to Dubai. He seemed to have more energy in spite of his time zone hopping schedule, and thrice weekly yoga at the Dubai Ladies Club had made a huge difference in her overall fitness level and her self confidence. It didn’t hurt that custom-made clothing was easily available and comparable in price to mall shops either.

“Nice swimsuit, is it new? You look amazing.” Gene whispered “Is it illegal to make love to your own wife in public here?” Sophie laughed, “I think public lovemaking is illegal everywhere, darlin’.” She arched her back a bit, knowing that the black and silver bikini top fit perfectly and showed her chest off to great advantage. He groaned and grinned her favorite sweet/ bad boy grin. “Uh oh, British feminist at 12:00…”

Gene was not a fan of Melanie. He couldn’t stand what he saw as a martyr complex and it pissed him off when Mel was unintentionally unkind to Sophie. Silly things like forgetting to introduce his wife to people at the Ladies Club or not inviting Chris and Sue to her own kids parties, seemed snobbish and petty. Sophie blew these things off as cultural differences but Gene was pretty sure Mel was jealous of his wife and just a bit mean too.

“What’s up girl? Where’s Jon?” Gene asked as Mel directed the pool boy to set up three chairs covered with towels for her and the kids. “An umbrella too, if you wouldn’t mind” she pressed a 10 dirham note into the pool boy’s hand “Yes Madam!”

“Oh, and could you send a waiter over, I desperately need a cup of tea!”

“Yes Madam!”

Gene smiled a little at the way Mel casually ordered the pool boys around. After a year in Dubai, Sophie knew most of them by name, knew their family histories, their career ambitions and their problems too. More than once he’d stopped her from giving one of them a 500 dirham tip after hearing a sob story about a sick relative.

Mel smiled her tight smile at Gene as she settled into her lounger “He’s in Milan, I can’t wait till he gets home… this mess with Heather, I hate dealing with it alone.”

“Well, you aren’t really dealing with it are you, Mel?” Gene’s voice was playful but slightly antagonistic.

“Bill rang the bell and got the girls but he wouldn’t even stay for a cup of tea. I’m sure he’s not ready to talk about it.” Mel seemed oblivious to Gene’s jibe.

Sophie chimed in “Will he visit her at the jail? Can he?”

“I assume he can, if I can and suppose he will, what else can he do?”

“Well, I hope he fires Maria, I mean, turning Heather into the Police for adultery? Seriously! It’s Dubai, the prostitution capital of the Middle East!”

“Sophie,” Mel’s tone was slightly stern “this is a Muslim country and what she did IS against the law. Why should Maria watch it go on? Anyway, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Bill knew she was going to call the police.”

“Really? Jesus!” exclaimed Gene.

“Gene, you don’t think he knew something was up? Heather was going to the Spa at the Ladies Club twice a week. Bill certainly wasn’t paying for that!” Mel smirked at her joke.

Gene laughed aloud, remembering an afternoon when Bill had smuggled his own sandwiches into the Habtoor, telling everyone who would listen “I’m not paying 30 dirhams for a freakin’ cheese sandwich!”

They spent the rest of the day swimming, eating and having much the same conversation with a few different groups of pilots, neighbors, and their wives. The general consensus was that Bill probably knew about the Architect, since almost everyone did, and that he and Heather deserved whatever happened to them next.

Around 3, the crowd broke up a bit as families headed home to sleep before dinner. Sophie wasn’t drunk, but the two sea-breezes that made her feel languid by the pool had given her a raging headache as they waited for the valet to bring their Volvo. Still, she was in better shape than Vincent’s mom, who’s tanned and pilates-perfected body was drunkenly slumped into a chair with the valets fanning her while her husband looked disgustedly on. Climbing into the car, Sophie was exhausted, she, Chris and Sue were asleep before Gene swung onto the Sheikh Zayed Road, Dubai’s main highway.