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Love, Lattes and Angel

Page 14

by Sandra Cox


  Everyone is saying the right things but no one, with the exception of Tyler, appears to be brimming with joy. Angel is silent. Mr. Dunn pensive. Amy is throwing me worried looks and Mina is as inscrutable as ever.

  “Well, after all this excitement, I think I’ll call it a day.” Mr. Dunn turns and heads back to the cottage, the rest of us trooping beside him.

  “There’s a little café a mile or so down that makes mean lattes. We don’t get as many tourists as Grand Turk, mainly natives frequent it. Would you like to go tomorrow morning?” Molita asks me.

  “Sure.” I’m not certain why she’s suddenly giving me so much attention. Whether it’s our shared experience with Simba, feeling pity for me or letting the newly engaged couple think we don’t care. Whatever her reasons, I’m grateful. She’s managing to keep me from making a flaming fool of myself.

  Molita touches my daughter’s shoulder. “Angel, do you want to go with us to the coffee shop tomorrow morning?”

  My daughter is trudging along holding her mom’s hand. She turns and throws Molita a brilliant smile. “Thank you. I would love to.”

  Molita waits a beat then adds, “Anyone else is welcome to join us.”

  She gets no takers. Okay by me. The less time I spend around the lovebirds the better.

  Once in bed, I toss and turn for a couple of hours before I give it up and go back in the water. I watch the sunrise then make my way back to the cottage and wake Angel. As soon as we are both dressed we go to Molita’s and Mina’s cottage where Molita is ready and waiting.

  The three of us stroll down a cobblestoned street lined with lush, ginger-colored roses and hibiscus. I breathe in the sensual scents and try to concentrate on the beauty at hand and the first rays of sun warming my shoulders. Anything except the engagement.

  “Will the café be open?” I grab Angel’s hand and swing it, at the same time try to breath. If I didn’t know better, I’d think my lungs had cracked along with my heart.

  “Oh yes, there are a lot of islanders who work on Grand Turk and want their caffeine before they leave each morning.”

  “I get it.”

  Tucked in a small bright yellow building, sandwiched between two larger pink ones, is a jewelry store. Angel presses her nose against the glass. “Look, wouldn’t Momma love that?”

  In the window, against a black velvet backdrop, is a silver ring in the shape of a dolphin, a chip of turquoise for the eye. It’s perfect. Heat burgeons in my chest. I’m not a material guy, but that ring represents exactly who and what we are. It’s also a symbol of a connection between us that can never be broken. “Yes, baby, she would.” I hate this. I hate having no money, other than enough pocket change to buy a latte or a pizza and even that will be gone before long. I don’t dare use the credit cards.

  I look at the tag. While not unreasonable, it might as well be a million dollars.

  “You like the ring?” Molita asks.

  “Piper would love it. But, I don’t have any money.” Embarrassed heat scalds me. I’ve got to find a way to bring in some money for the family.

  “Your bond with dolphins is remarkably strong.”

  I nod.

  Molita studies the ring. “Have you thought of bartering?”

  “That would be a great idea if I had anything to barter with.”

  “You have unbelievable skills. I’ve seen you swim. Why not dive for pearls? I know the owner of this shop; I’m sure he would be willing to deal with you. I’ll talk to him myself.”

  Tension lifts along with the heaviness pressing on me. Lightness erupts through me—finally there’s something worthwhile I can do. “What a great idea!” I give her a quick hug then pick Angel up and dance around the sidewalk. Petite chuckles come out of her mouth; her eyes sparkle with joy.

  “Since the shop’s not open yet, let’s get those lattes.” Molita smiles.

  A bell tinkles as we troop in. Several islanders are already seated.

  We order our lattes and when the frothy, cold cups arrive, we make our way to a booth in front of the window.

  I sip my drink and get my first cold jolt of caffeine of the morning. “This is a nice place, don’t you think, Angel?” As I watch out the window, the island comes to life with islanders heading for their destinations, but no one seems in a rush as they are in the States.

  “Yes.” Angel takes a noisy sip from her straw. Her latte has plenty of chocolate and whipped cream but only a dash of espresso.

  “Why not stay?” Molita stirs the whipped cream into the drink with her straw then sucks on the end of it from full lush lips. Angel kicks me under the table and I quickly corral my unruly brain.

  “There are some very bad people after us. So far it hasn’t been safe to stay in one spot.”

  “I can protect you.”

  “To a point, and that’s why we’re still here. But if things get dicey you and Mina need to back out of the picture. None of us want you hurt.”

  She shakes her head. “You still don’t believe I can take care of myself.”

  I gulp down half the contents of my glass in one long sip. “Again, to a point. But even you can’t stop a bullet.”

  “Why are they after you?”

  “It’s the skills you mentioned. And Angel is very special.” I tousle her hair. “They want her badly.”

  Angel looks at Molita and says very quietly. “I was created.”

  I take her chin and lift it until our eyes meet. “You are my blood and your mom’s. Don’t ever forget it.”

  Molita reaches over and takes her hand. “I don’t know how you were created, but I know for what purpose. You carry the spirit of my manman, little one.”

  I take another sip and find my glass is empty. Angel’s and Molita’s are as well. “Shall we head back?” I’m anxious to start my pearl hunt.

  The air is already much warmer as we step into the street. The jeweler is putting the open sign in his window as we walk by. We stop and Molita proposes her plan.

  He holds out his hand. “I will hold the ring for you. If the pearls are the quality I’m after, we’ll make a trade. But be warned, wild pearls are hard to come by.”

  “Good enough.” I take his hand and shake it before we head back.

  “Can I come with you?” Angel trots beside me, her hand locked in mine. It must be difficult having a mind that’s so much more mature than your body.

  “I don’t mind. Can I go with you?”

  “Of course.” I glance at her and for the first time I notice she’s shot up another inch and her face has filled out a bit more. Did it happen overnight or gradually?

  “Gradually, I think.”

  Molita tilts her head and taps her chin. “I believe there’s a conversation going on I’m missing out on.”

  Angel grins.

  “I’ll be sure and watch my thoughts.” She gives Angel a teasing smile, then turns to me. “Can I go with you too?”

  I hesitate.

  “I won’t get in your way. I’ll just enjoy a morning swim.”

  “Of course.”

  “Daddy.”

  My attention turns back to my daughter. “Yes?”

  “I know you want the ring for Momma, but I hate to kill mollusks for a piece of jewelry.” Angel’s voice is quiet, her expression sad.

  “If we’re lucky enough to find wild pearl oysters, we’ll remove the pearls very carefully then return the oysters to the sea. They should survive. And whatever true oysters we harvest we’ll eat or maybe we can sell them at a fish market. What do you think, Molita?”

  “Great idea.” She snaps her fingers. “Better yet, I know a restaurant that would love fresh oysters. You are on your way to being entrepreneurs.”

  “Is that okay with you, Angel?” I ask her.

  My daughter brightens. “As long as life isn’t wasted, I’m good.”

  That’s my daughter.

  Angel and I grin at each other.

 
“Will you be able to tell the oysters that have the pearls?” Angel asks.

  “I should be able to.”

  Molita’s brows shoot up. “How?”

  “It’s part of those special skills you mentioned.” I wink at her. “Plus, as I’m sure you already know, true oysters shells are more irregular.”

  “You’re right.” As we approach the cottages, she says. “Let me run in the house and get bags for the oysters and pearls. It’ll just take a minute.”

  While we wait, Angel points to a brown pelican, his yellow head glistening in the sun as he skims the water looking for fish. He makes a catch and flies away with the fish flapping in his beak.

  “Nature can be both harsh and beautiful can’t it?” Angel shades her eyes from the sun and watches the pelican’s flight.

  Before I can respond, Molita is back wearing a white bikini that accentuates the golden glow to her skin.

  We swim with her for a while then Angel and I go further and deeper on our hunt. I taste the water for calcium carbonate and conchiolin. After an hour, I pick up the taste and follow it like a hunting dog, surging back and forth.

  The elusive taste grows stronger.

  Her hair floating around her face, Angel kicks like a frog as she scoops the water. She points ahead. Hidden beneath multi-colored coral is a large bed of oysters. A school of blue fish darts away as we approach. One by one, I pick up the oysters and put them in the bag for the restaurant, so far none with pearls. We end up with about three dozen. I’m not really disappointed that we haven’t found pearl oysters yet. The jeweler is right; they are rare in the wild.

  I turn in the water, tasting one last time, and get a faint tantalizing taste of calcium carbonate and conchiolin to the west of us. We follow it for about half a mile. The taste is stronger and richer than what led to the bed of true oysters. Excited, I swim faster. I stop and dog paddle, the taste overpowering. I track it to a growth of orange coral.

  There he is, partially hidden behind the coral. The sucker is nearly as large as a dinner plate. Excitement courses through me. The carbonate taste surrounding him is more intense than in any of the other oysters. Picking it up, I wink at Angel and point to the surface with my thumb.

  When we break water, she chuffs and pushes her hair out of her face. “Do you think it’s got a pearl in it?” Her voice quivers with excitement.

  “Let’s grab Molita then take a look.” It’s hard to wait, but if we’ve made a find, the young priestess deserves to be in on it. We find her and head back.

  Once on shore, we seat ourselves on rocks and leave the oysters that will go to the restaurant in the water. Anticipation builds as I pick up the huge mollusk. Nerves thrum under the skin.

  “Be careful with it, Daddy.”

  “I will, baby. I will.”

  I pry it carefully open with my knife and blink.

  Chapter 21

  Joel

  Inside the meaty layers is a huge black pearl that shimmers and winks with translucent color.

  “Oh, my.” Molita’s breath whooshes out. I cautiously remove it, close the mollusk back up, and toss it into the sea. I rinse the pearl in the foaming waves then hand it to Angel, who studies it and gives it to Molita.

  She admires it, turning it one way then another. The iridescent coating catches every color of the rainbow as it gleams and sparkles in the sun. “This should keep you in lattes.”

  We’re all grinning like fools.

  “Let’s get this honey to the jeweler. You can buy Piper’s ring and have money for whatever you need. When will you give it to her?”

  Good question. I shrug. “Probably her birthday.”

  “And if Tyler objects?”

  “Why should he? It’s the core of who she is, who her daughter is.” And who I am.

  Angel and I slip on the shorts and shirts we’ve left on the shore while Molita hurries back to the cottage to change clothes. Angel dances around impatiently.

  Molita is back quicker than I would have thought possible, her color high, excitement in her eyes. We are just passing our cottage as Piper and Tyler walk out.

  “Where are you going?” Piper asks.

  “Oh, just taking a walk up to town.” We hurry along before they can ask to join us.

  “Whew that was close,” Molita says.

  “Momma’s suspicious,” Angel adds.

  “We can tell her the truth, just leave out any mention of the ring.”

  “Okay.”

  “How about if I take the oysters to the restaurant and you take the pearl to the jeweler? I’ll meet you in front of his shop. I can’t wait to hear what he has to say.” Molita is as bubbly as I’ve ever seen her.

  “Me neither.” The smile pushes hard against my cheeks. Energy sizzles through me.

  Halfway down the street, we split up. Angel and I go to the jewelry store. The old man who owns the shop has a couple of customers. I wait till he’s through. Angel is all but quivering beside me.

  “Any luck?” he asks.

  “We found one.” Something in my voice alerts him. He straightens and pushes his glasses back up with his index finger.

  I pull out the black pearl.

  “Mary, Joseph, and Jesus.” He picks it up and studies it, his expression reverent. “Talk about beginner’s luck. You just plucked this out of the ocean? What, do you have a built-in pearl sonar on your person?”

  “Something like that.”

  He whistles. “Look at the colors in it. It’s the finest black pearl that’s ever been in this store. This is more of a collector’s item, but lucky for me I know collectors.” His smile is huge, exposing teeth still white and strong. “How much do you want for it?”

  “A fair price.”

  He taps the counter. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll write you a check for five thousand and give you ten percent of whatever I sell it for. But it may take a while to get the price I want.”

  “Done.”

  He frowns. “Don’t you even want to dicker?”

  “No, but if you can find whoever made the dolphin ring and get one to fit my daughter’s finger, we’ve got a deal.” Five thousand! My head might blow off.

  He sighs. “Okay. And we’ll make it twelve percent. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  I stick out my hand. He takes it and shakes it up and down with both hands. “I’m going to have to go to the bank. I don’t have five thousand in the shop and I want this baby in a safety deposit box. “Want to come with me?”

  “Sure.” He measures Angel’s finger and gets the ring out of the window. “I’ll order the other today.”

  Angel’s eyes sparkle, turning the turquoise in them a deep brilliant blue. “Thank you, Daddy. This is the best present ever.”

  “You’re welcome, baby.”

  The jeweler pats her on the head. “The chip for the dolphin’s eye matches your pretty ones.” He turns to me, glances at my eyes, but says nothing. “We didn’t get introduced before. The name is Barnabas. Arturo Barnabas.”

  “Pleased to meet you, I’m Joel Eisler and this is my daughter, Angel.”

  “I’m very happy to make your acquaintance, Joel and Miss Angel.” He turns the sign in the window to CLOSED and we walk out.

  We chat about the pearl all the way to the bank where we complete our transaction then we walk back to the jewelry store where Molita is waiting for us. As he unlocks his door, he says, “Bring me anything you get, anytime.”

  “I will, sir.”

  He grins from ear to ear.

  As the door shuts, Molita grabs my arm. “Well?”

  I scoop her up and dance around. “We’re in the chips.” I tell her the details.

  She frowns. “You probably could have gotten twice as much.”

  My shoulders lift and drop. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think he’s taking advantage of me, and if he makes a nice profit on it, I’ll get a piece of it without having to do any of t
he work. And speaking of which, I owe you something as well.” I reach for my wallet.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she warns. “We’re friends. That means we don’t take money for helping each other.”

  Not for worlds would I offend her. “Well then, since my other girls”—I glance at my daughter and smile—“are getting jewelry, can I buy you something as a token of our friendship?”

  She nods and smiles. “I’d like that.”

  I gesture in the direction of the window. “What would you like?”

  “You pick it out.”

  I turn to Angel. “How about some help?”

  She nods eagerly.

  Satisfaction makes me smug. You can’t go wrong asking a female of any age to help pick out jewelry.

  “You’re right, Daddy.”

  Caught. “Okay, let’s go back in.”

  Arturo looks up in surprise then jokes, “You have more pearls for me already, my young partner?”

  “Not yet.” I grin my appreciation at his humor. “But my daughter and I want to get a small thank you gift for Molita since she was kind enough to introduce us.”

  “Ah.” He nods. “I should be buying her the gift then.”

  “You can buy her the next one.”

  “It’s a deal. Do you have anything in mind?”

  “No.”

  “Browse around, and for my partner, fifty percent off anything in the store.”

  “Thank you.” We peruse the display cases looking at rings, necklaces, and earrings. Molita looks too, but she doesn’t linger over any one item.

  “Daddy.”

  I join my daughter at the display case and follow the direction of her pointing finger. It’s a simple bracelet of delicate intertwining silver, gold, and copper wires with a single drop black pearl.

  “Perfect. You already have a good eye for jewelry. Must be in the genes,” I tease.

  She titters in response.

  “We’ll take this, Arturo.”

  “A good choice,” he tells my daughter.

  I purchase it and let Angel give it to Molita who immediately puts it on and holds it up to the light to admire it. “I’ll treasure it.”

 

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