For a week. For a lifetime.
Get away from housework. From children & husbands. Drudgery & dead-end jobs. Siren’s Rest is a private, all-inclusive, seaside resort and spa. Women only. 18+.
My mother had a pink apron that proclaimed To Hell With Housework! I found it in the back of the closet when she died. I wore it for my husband and he wasn’t amused. Surely you have time to tidy up, he said. You can’t be writing all the time.
He used to love to travel. Loved the hotels and upgraded flights. Now he likes it when I leave on assignment. He can drink with friends. He thinks I don’t know about his girlfriend. Of course I know. I read my best friend’s face like a hotel paperback.
Amenities
Private rooms, each with an ocean view. Housekeeping daily. All toiletries provided – you don’t even need to bring a swimsuit. Communal meals, prepared fresh by our expert chefs, in our spacious dining room. Vegan and gluten-free options available.
Janet is widowed. Paula is divorced. Diane won’t talk about why she’s there, but the scars on her wrist are louder than her voice. All have come here to start fresh. I draw new strength from each of them. You are so young, Paula says wisely. But, bless you, you learned before I did.
Wellness
Enjoy sunrise yoga on the beach. Swim in our private cove or soak in our hot spring. Complimentary seminars include “Finding Your Voice,” “Healing Waters” and “Forage For the Feast”
There are messages for me at the front desk. Phone calls, flowers, a card in a pink envelope. He wants me to come home. He wants to try again. I let the flowers wilt on the table in the foyer. I let the calls go unreturned. And at night I toss the card, unopened, into the bonfire.
Times to Treasure
Bring home a piece of Siren’s Rest. Purchase spa amenities, such as our pink salt scrub, in our gift shop. Find a gift from the ocean on the beach? From sea glass to pearls, we can make you a custom piece of jewelry to remind you of your home here.
We lounge on the beach in the lazy afternoon, our toes in the water, sipping blue drinks from tall glasses. The salt spray makes our hair wavy. We pretend we’re the Spice Girls and sing loudly, giddy. Diana tucks the flower from her drink behind her hair. She has a pearl on a fishing line around her throat and tells us she knows where we can find more.
Sisterhood
The women you meet at Siren’s Rest will become your family. Love it here? Apply to mentor new guests. We’re always looking for passionate women to fulfill our mission.
Weekend sailors lurk on the edges of the cove. We whistle from the rocks. We sing with new voices. This place has healed us, renewed us, made us whole again.
The sailors trespass. We slurp fresh oysters on the beach. They follow us into the waves. They are as lovesick as we are, but they have not yet learned to breathe underwater. We laugh in widow, in divorcee, in the recently heartbroken. We kiss them and taste their last breaths. Some will wash up on the rocks in the morning. Others will remain eternally young deep inside the caves beneath.
The pearls we strung together glow when we break the surface. When we try to go on land again, our legs do not work.
