Page 1 of Worlds Apart
ChapterOne
Chevy Chase, Maryland
Sunny surveyedthe range of clothing laid out across the bed in her old bedroom at her parents’ house. “I think I have everything, but I’ll need to weigh it to make sure I’m not over my baggage allowance.”
“This?” Her mother blinked. “This is all you’re taking?”
“The bush plane that goes out to the camp only has so much weight allowed per person for luggage.”
“I’m sure this is all very safe but…” Mitsy Cooper Randolph of the Loudon County Coopers considered a trip to Paris to be free-spirited, zesty adventure. “What kind of holiday is this when you’re staying in a tent and flying on tiny planes. Is there running water? Hot showers?A bar?”
“Yes, obviously. There’s all that.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s going to be great, Mom.”
It was going to be great.
Sure, she’d only left the United States twice in her life and both of those trips had been hyper-managed by her mother or her school teachers, but she was turning over a new leaf—and taking some of the holiday time her boss had insisted she use.
She was a new Susannah Randolph, professional single woman and soon-to-be world traveler.
She’d read everything she could on Kenya, the Maasai people, the history and biology of the Mara, and the ecological implications of responsible travel. She’d been keeping track of the camp’s blog and followed their social media pages.
She was ready.
Probably.
“How many days will you be gone?” Her mother perched in a wingback chair in a corner of her bedroom, a dry martini in one hand and a small line of confusion resting between her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. “Really, Susannah, what is there to do inKenya?”
“A lot.” Sunny tried not to roll her eyes. “Remember Alice Ledama? I’m going to visit her at the safari camp she’s managing. I’m going to see lions and elephants and… zebras!” Her eyebrows went up. “Don’t you think it’s exciting?”
Sunny had checked off everything the safari company and Alice had recommended, long-sleeved shirts in cotton or linen and pants to protect her skin from the sun. A broad sunhat to shade her eyes. Sturdy, broken in hiking boots weren’t a problem, since she enjoyed local hikes regularly with her birding club.
“I’m just impressed you’re goinganywhere.” Sunny’s older sister Lulu appeared from the hallway and leaned against the door jamb. “You never even wanted to go to Europe with me and Mom.”
Her older sister looked like a younger clone of her mother, bearing the Cooper blond hair and sky-blue eyes. Sunny got the blue eyes, but she bore a stronger resemblance to her father with her slightly olive skin and dark hair.
“That’s because you and Mom go to Europe to shop” —Sunny began to fold her plain cotton underwear and sensible bras so they would fit in the packing cube— “and I don’t like shopping.”
Lulu sat on the corner of the bed and started to fold alongside Sunny. “You should bring a bathing suit. Kenya is supposed to have great beaches. And at least one pair of sexy underwear.” She rose and walked to Sunny’s chest of drawers. “What if you meet a hot safari guide or something?”
Mitsy lifted her glass. “Hear, hear. Holiday romances are an experience every young person should have.”
Sunny stifled a laugh. “Mom, Lu, this isme. I’m not going to have some wild holiday romance. I couldn’t get a date at the actuarial conference.”
Lulu made a face. “Why would you want to date an actuary?”
“I’man actuary!”
“Exactly.” Lulu pulled out a tiny scrap of lace that pretended to be a bra and tossed it on the bed. “You need someone to liven you up.”
“Susannah, you’ve had all your shots, haven’t you?” Mitsy waved a hand. “Never mind, just drink lots of gin and tonic, darling. It’s medicinal.”
“Not everyone needs a romantic partner.” Sunny glanced at Lulu from the corner of her eye. “I actuallylikebeing single.”
Mostly. She mostly liked it, except for those times when she didn’t, which were becoming more and more frequent the closer she got to thirty.
It was still a little over a year away, but Sunny had the irritating feeling that she should be…more. That whatever adult benchmarks of success one was supposed to meet by their third decade, she had fallen behind.
Somewhere in the six years since she’d finished college, most of her school friends had drifted into marriage, partnership, or parenting, all while seeming to maintain picture-worthy social lives and brilliant careers.
