When she looked outside, in the distance she could see a group of women working in the garden that her mother once loved. She tried to see the women more clearly but the sun reflecting off the top of the mountain prevented a closer view. The women wore bonnets or scarves on their head and the skirts they wore went all the way to the ground. Olivia leaned against the door and watched them for a while, wondering what they were doing in her parents’ yard. She wanted to run outside and scream at them to get out, but something about them was intriguing. They reminded her of the polygamist families that lived in the area when she was growing up. Perhaps these women were sister wives and they shared one husband. Olivia didn’t think she could ever live like that. She was much too jealous to share any man. She certainly couldn’t wear drab clothing every day that covered her from head to toe, and she would die without makeup.
Olivia’s mother had taken her to Salt Lake City for the Little Miss Utah beauty pageant when she was seven and after that Olivia knew she was destined to wear makeup and designer clothes. She was determined to steer clear of a life of polygamy which so many of the young women of the region had thought was the only way of life. Living in New York City was so different from life in the West that Olivia barely recognized her hometown. She felt as if she had lived a lifetime since moving away, and from the looks of things around here, life had stood still in the mountain state she once called home.
She pulled a mirror out of her purse and looked at her reflection. The years had been a friend to her. Her dark eyes still had their sparkle and her hair was just as silky as it had been when she was a girl. She wasn’t old by any means, but the life of a model was fleeting unless she reached the heights of a supermodel, which Olivia intended to do. She fluffed her hair that was thick and shiny and attracted men like bees to honey and pursed her lips until the shine of her gloss sparkled. She began to lower the lid on her mirror when she noticed a reflection that wasn’t hers. She turned around and backed up until she felt the edge of the kitchen counter dig into her back.
“Who are you?”
The man didn’t scare Olivia. She smarted back, “I am the owner of this house. What the hell are you doing here and how did you get a key? And perhaps you can tell me who those women are in my back yard.”