Oasis

I was hot and tired. My back ached, my feet throbbed. We had spent the night in an expensive dive adorned with water stained walls and, not surprisingly, perfumed with scents of mildew. Morning brought a parade and football game with the customary standing and sitting on hard benches. The weather was beautiful, but my attitude was stormy. Did I mention I was pregnant?

My husband's fifteenth college reunion weekend was supposed to double as a romantic getaway before the birth of our fourth child. So far we were off to a less than stellar start. After we left our three daughters with their grandparents, our retreat had entered into a hasty decline. In an attempt to salvage our weekend by switching hotels, we stumbled upon a sanctuary.

Charleston, South Carolina, is known for its ambiance and, after living there for years, I'd experienced my share. But there is a special sweetness to returning as a visitor, allowing her to wrap you in nostalgia and southern charm.

So it was as we entered our Bed and Breakfast. Usually booked months in advance, they'd had a cancellation that morning and gave us the empty room for half price, rather than have it go unused.

As we crossed the threshold into the courtyard, through the wrought iron gates, my senses were immediately filled with scents, sounds and textures. The cobblestone path opened to a delicate fountain and an array of foliage. The breeze caressed my weary skin and brought with it the sweet essence of olive bushes in bloom.

Our room continued the glorious experience. We stood surrounded by antique furniture. As if transported back in time to a plantation, we stood on plank wood floors and looked at exposed brick inner walls. Fresh flowers, champagne, and fresh fruit sat ready to delight our palates. Our refrigerator and small pantry area beckoned with less sophisticated but none the less tasty treats.

I collapsed into the Queen Anne chair and sipped on a Coke, contemplating this oasis...and gathering the strength to shower. Snug in the Rice bed, the softly scented sheets enveloped me and the gentle sound from the fountain outside our window lulled me to sleep.

Morning came too quickly. I wanted to soak up every second in this luxurious refuge. Gathering the paper that awaited us on our stoop, we strolled to the upstairs terrace where homemade pastries and juice beckoned. I couldn't resist one last look over the balcony before parting. Framed with the low hanging tree branches and fragrant floral window box, a horse drawn carriage clippity clopped onto the scene. A more picturesque ending couldn't have been scripted. As the tourists disappeared down the street, my heart ached at the thought of our departure and longed for our return.