I arrived at Satori in the afternoon, intending to hit the baths but the bed in my private room looked so inviting, I ended up napping until dinner was served.
As I walked to the dining hall, I passed a black Monterrey County Sheriff’s Department sedan parked next to the office and wondered if they were investigating drug sales, a perennial Satori problem. I stepped into the small, redwood-paneled bar for a glass of wine and immediately ran into a couple of staff members that Fiona had worked with the last time we’d been at Satori.
“Nice to see you, Tom,” Marcia Ball, the Satori outreach coordinator, said. “Are you here for a workshop? Where’s Fiona?” Marcia was a well maintained, middle-aged white woman with an extravagant French braid.
“Fiona passed away eighteen months ago,” I rasped as my throat constricted. “Her breast cancer returned.”
Marcia choked up. “I’m so sorry to hear that.” Marcia was joined by her assistant, Grace, a slight twenty-something Hawaiian woman. “We always enjoyed working with her, working with your company.”
“Fiona loved it here. When I saw that David Sanders was giving his ‘Transitions workshop.’ I thought I would take the course and contemplate my life after Fiona.”
“You must miss her a lot,” Grace said. “How long were the two of you together?”
“Almost twenty years. We met right after I finished business school at Stanford.”
“Do you remember Carl?” Marcia asked as a tall young Black man joined us. “Carl works in public relations. Carl, this is Tom Scott.”
I didn’t remember Carl, but we shook hands warmly. He stood out in his white-shirt and navy-blue blazer, a stark contrast to the other men who were dressed like surfers.
“Did you hear the big news?” Carl asked.
“I haven’t heard anything,” I said. “I just got here.”
“They found a body on the beach this morning.”
“Someone said that it’s Malcolm,” Marcia added in a shaky voice.
“Wow,” I said. “I noticed a Sheriff’s Department vehicle parked by the office. Wow. They found Malcolm’s body? What happened?”
“I don’t think they know what happened,” Carl said.
“Did you know him?” Marcia asked.
“I met him during one of the events we helped you stage. Fiona had several conversations with Malcolm.”
“What did Fiona think of him?” Grace asked, arching one eyebrow.
She thought Malcolm was a predator, I thought but didn’t say. He tried to hit on her even though he knew she was married. “Smart. Lots of ideas. Tried to interfere with our plans at the last minute.”
“Sounds like Malcolm.” Marcia chuckled. “When he was around, he had a tendency to micro-manage.”
I started to say something but was interrupted by David Sanders. “Tom, so good to see you. I’m sorry to hear about Fiona’s passing. How are you doing?”
David and I had known each other for twenty years. He was about ten years older than me. We were the same height, but David was twenty pounds heavier and had a lot more hair. His was turning grey. In another five years, David will look like Santa Claus.
“I’m in and out,” I said. “On the one hand, I’m glad she doesn’t have to suffer anymore – the last year of her life was very painful. On the other hand, I miss her companionship; I miss her buoyant personality.”
“You’re an upbeat guy,” David said. “And resilient.”
“I hope so. I expect to live forty more years and I don’t want to mope around with a black cloud hovering over my head.”
“Like the cartoon character, Joe Btfsplk?” David chuckled. “You’re not remotely like him.” He clutched my hand. “I’m glad you’re going to be in the workshop. Most of the participants are newbies.”
“I heard they found Malcolm’s body on the beach,” I said.
“That’s what I just learned,” David answered. “I’m not sure if Cheryl knows yet; I’ve been trying to find her.” Cheryl Taylor was a senior therapist on the Satori board; she had been married to Richard Staybrook, the other Satori founder, who died. “Excuse me but I need to find her.”
David strode off.
“Are you coming to our fundraiser, on Wednesday night?” Marcia asked.
“I was planning on it. Do you think they’ll still hold it, given Malcolm’s death?”
Marcia furrowed her brow. “I think so. We’ve got the whole board coming in.” She glanced at Grace who sighed but said nothing. “I’ll let you know if it’s cancelled.”
“Okay.”
“Would you like to join us for dinner?”
“Thanks.” I followed Marcia, Grace, and Carl to the food line.