I leave T.J. and Ben and head back into the kitchen. David has joined Jane and Sarah, and he gives me a kiss on the cheek.
“Happy birthday,” he says, handing me a bouquet of flowers. I trim the stems under running water, then place them in a vase and set them on the counter next to the pink roses T.J. gave me this morning.
“Wine?” I ask him.
“I’ll get it. You sit down and relax.”
I join Sarah and Jane. Stefani is here, too. Rob and the kids have the stomach flu, so she has come alone, not wanting to risk getting anyone sick. At moments like this, when everyone I love and care about is under one roof, I feel complete. I only wish my parents were here, too. To know my husband. To hold their grandchildren.
I still went to the shelter three days a week until just recently, but the commute into the city finally took its toll. Jane watched the twins on the days I volunteered, but it was time to do something different. I set up a charitable foundation to assist homeless families, and I run it out of our home office, the twins playing at my feet. It makes me happy. Henry’s shelter gets a large donation every year and always will.
I also tacked up a flyer at the local high school and I’ve picked up a few students to tutor. They come to our house in the evening, and we sit at the kitchen table crossing off completed assignments one by one. Sometimes I miss standing in front of a classroom, but I think this is enough, for now.
T.J. runs a small construction company. He builds homes, one or two a year, framing them alongside the men he employs. He never went back to school after completing his first semester at community college, but I don’t care. It’s not my choice to make. Outside is where T.J. is happy.
He also gives his time, and money, to Habitat for Humanity. Dean Lewis volunteers there, too; the sixth house he helped build was his own. He married Julie, a girl he met at the restaurant, and Leo loves being a big brother to the baby girl his parents named Annie.
I brought lunch to T.J. at his construction site a few months ago. Watching him do what he loves makes me happy, too. A new subcontractor, there to work on the plumbing, whistled and yelled out, “Hey, baby!” when I walked up, not knowing who I was. T.J. set him straight immediately. I know I’m supposed to be offended, to view the catcall as an affront to women and all that. I’m okay with it, though.
T.J. and I found out something interesting a couple years ago. A police officer from Malé called us with a few questions, hoping to close out the case of a missing person. The family of a man who disappeared in May of 1999 had recently discovered a journal in his belongings. In it, Owen Sparks, a dot-com millionaire from California, wrote in meticulous detail about a plan to trade his high-pressure lifestyle for the peace and solitude of island living in the Maldives. They followed his trail to Malé, but that’s where it ended. The officer wanted to know more about the skeleton T.J. and I discovered. There’s no way to know for sure if it was him, but it seems likely. I wonder if Owen would have made it if he’d had someone to lean on, the way T.J. and I did. I guess we’ll never know.
I carry a pitcher of lemonade out to the front porch and refill drinks, inhaling the smell of fresh-cut grass and spring flowers. Tom pulls into the driveway. We decided that a feast from Perry’s Deli is perfect for this warm May evening and David comes out of the house to help Tom carry it all in. Stefani and I set it out on the kitchen island and I am just about to call everyone in to make a plate when Ben walks up to me, holding Mick out in front of him. The smell of the dirty diaper is hard to miss.
“I think something came out of Mick’s butt,” he says.
“There are diapers and wipes by the changing table in the nursery, and make sure to use plenty of diaper cream because Mick has a little bit of a rash.”
Ben stands frozen, wondering how he’s going to get out of it, when T.J., who has been watching the whole thing, starts laughing.
“Dude, she’s messing with you.”
Ben looks at me and I shrug, smiling. “It’s just so easy.”
The relief on his face is so profound it’s almost comical.
T.J. holds out his arms for Mick. “Josie’s got a load, too. I might as well change them both.”
“You’re a good man,” I say. And he is.
Ben hands the baby over.
“Pussy,” T.J. says to him as he walks out of the room, his arms full of his children. I smile because I know T.J. is teasing, but also because I know he’s happy to have his best friend involved in our lives. At twenty-four, Ben could just as easily be at the bars instead of here, holding a baby. He has a serious girlfriend named Stacy, and T.J. says she’s the one responsible for turning Ben into a mature adult. He’s not quite there yet.
Everyone fills a plate and finds somewhere to sit. Some choose the front steps, some the screened-in porch, and others, like T.J. and me, remain in the kitchen.
We strap the twins into their high chairs and give them small pieces of bread and deli meat. I spoon potato salad into their mouths and take bites of my sandwich and sips of my iced tea. T.J. sits beside me, retrieving the sippy cup Josie insists on flinging to the ground, just to see if he’ll pick it up for her. He always does.
When everyone finishes eating, they sing “Happy Birthday” to me. I blow out all thirty-eight candles Chloe insisted on putting on the cake. It’s an absolute inferno, but all I can do is laugh. From now until September 20, when T.J. turns twenty-five, I’m technically fourteen years older than him, not thirteen, but there’s nothing I can do about that either.
They all toast me with their drinks. I’m so happy I feel like crying.
Later, when everyone has gone and we’ve put the twins to bed, T.J. joins me on the screened-in porch. He brings two glasses of ice water and hands one to me. “Thanks,” I say. The novelty of cold water in a glass has not worn off for either of us. I take a long drink and set it on the table beside me.
He sits down on the rattan love seat and pulls me onto his lap.
“You might not be able to do that much longer,” I say, kissing his neck, which I do for two reasons: T.J. likes it, and it’s how I check for lumps. Thank God I’ve never found one.
“Sure I will,” he says, smiling and rubbing my belly.
We decided to try for one more child. It happened the first month, surprising us both. There’s only one baby this time and we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl. We don’t care, as long as it’s healthy. I’m due in four months, so the twins will only be fifteen months old when I give birth, but that just means that sometimes we get what we wish for.
I often think about the island. When the kids are older, we’ll have quite a story to tell them.
We’ll edit, of course.
We’ll also tell them that this house, and the property that surrounds it, is our island.
And that T.J. and I are finally home.
A LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR
Dear Readers,
Writing On the Island has been one of the most rewarding accomplishments I’ve ever had the good fortune to experience. It wasn’t an easy task, and at times I wondered if I’d ever reach my goal. On the Island was written mostly between the hours of 5:30 and 7:00 a.m. Then I had to power off my laptop and get ready for my day job. But writing this book brought me so much joy that I never hit the snooze button during the eighteen months it took to complete the book. I’m in my happy place when the words are flowing and my fingers are tapping them out as fast as I can type.
The completion of my first novel, however, was bittersweet. I’d crossed a big item off my bucket list just by finishing it. But I was unsuccessful in finding a way to bring Anna’s and T.J.’s story to the readers via traditional methods. Disappointed but not deterred, I chose self-publishing, and I’m forever grateful that writers have options for bringing their work to the marketplace. If not for these alternative channels, my debut nove
l might have languished on my hard drive indefinitely.
On the Island is truly a word-of-mouth book, and I’m eternally thankful that readers around the world embraced the story. No marketing plan can surpass the power of a large number of people who connect with a story and then recommend it to others. The result of my self-publishing endeavor has been a dream come true: MGM has optioned On the Island for a feature film, and Plume, one of Penguin’s imprints, has this new edition available wherever books are sold.
I want to thank the readers who have written to me to say that On the Island made them laugh and cry. Your wonderful feedback has made me laugh and cry, too, and none of this would have been possible without your enthusiastic support. My gratitude is endless.
I love hearing from you, and I can be found on Twitter @tgarvisgraves and at facebook.com/tgarvisgraves
All my best,
Tracey
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Without the contributions, assistance, and support of the following individuals, On the Island would still be a file taking up space on my hard drive. Words cannot express how truly thankful I am to have such wonderful and enthusiastic people in my life.
I owe a huge debt of gratitude to author Meira Pentermann. Meira believed in me long before I did, and her valuable guidance helped make On the Island the book it is today. She is the ultimate critique partner, beta reader, and cyber-sister.
My twin sister, Trish, who will always be the first person I show my words to.
My husband, David, because his encouragement means more to me than he’ll ever know.
My children, Matthew and Lauren. Thank you for being patient while Mom spent all that time with her laptop. I love you both.
Elisa Abner-Taschwer, for being the best de facto publicist and all-around cheerleader a writer could ever hope for.
I’d like to give special thanks to my beta readers and those who received advance reader copies of On the Island. You made me smile with your kind words, and you built my confidence more than you’ll ever know: Penne Heede Pojar, Beth Knipper, Elisa Abner-Taschwer, Lisa Green, Brooke Achenbach, Julie Gieseman, Trish Garvis, Trish Kallemeier, Noelle Zmolek, Stacy Alvarez, Stefani Blubaugh, Mindy Farrington, Taylor Kalander, David Green, Tami Cavanaugh, Amy Gulbranson, Stefanie Martin, Shellie Mollenhauer, Christy Cornwell, Missy Pomerantz, and Jill LaBarre.
I was also fortunate to work with the following talented people who were instrumental in making sure On the Island was the book I hoped it would be. I look forward to partnering with them again:
Developmental editing by Alison Dasho.
Copyediting by Anne Victory at Victory Editing.
PLUME READERS GROUP
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
ON THE ISLAND
—
Tracey Garvis Graves
The first sentence of the book tells you there is going to be a plane crash, and yet the author builds tension even before the crash. In chapter 1 Anna buys two bottles of water and tells T.J. to put one in his backpack, and as readers, we are probably aware that Mick will have a heart attack even before Anna does. Why do you think the author structured it this way? How did it enhance the read?
What were your first impressions of Anna and T.J.? And how did they change? At what point do you think Anna started seeing T.J. as an adult? When did you see him as an adult?
Anna wishes desperately that the bag containing all the summer reading she packed for her trip would wash ashore. Of all the trappings of civilization she yearns for, it’s reading and books that she seems to miss the most. What five books would you pack if you knew you were facing years alone on a desert island?
Anna and T.J. face a number of hardships on the island and talk about their greatest fears. Which would you fear the most? Losing the one person you are stranded with? Dying of rabies or dehydration or an allergic reaction? Running out of water?
Do you think it was realistic that Anna and T.J. waited so long to be together? Would you have waited that long?
How do Anna and T.J. change and evolve throughout the course of the story? What events trigger such changes?
Strangely, 2004’s devastating South Asian tsunami is what ends up saving Anna and T.J. (more than 200,000 people died in the tsunami). If you were Anna or T.J., how would you feel about the event?
Imagine you were the one getting the call that a loved one was still alive after all those years. Do you think your reaction would be similar to Anna’s sister’s?
The press conference scene was particularly dramatic for Anna and T.J. How would you handle becoming an overnight celebrity?
After three and a half years of only talking to one other person, imagine how overwhelming it would be to try and fit back into society. What do you think would be the most difficult thing to get used to?
What do you think about T.J.’s parents and the way they reacted to his relationship with Anna?
What did you think about John and Anna’s relationship? Do you know anyone in a situation similar to John and Anna’s (his failure to commit after eight years together)? Do you think that Anna would have stayed with him if she hadn’t been stranded on the island?
The age difference between T.J. and Anna is fourteen years. How would you feel about dating someone fourteen years older or younger than you? How do you think your friends and family and the general public would react to that situation?
Do you think Anna made the right decision in breaking things off with T.J.? Do you think she made the right decision to follow her heart and marry him?
In the end, which character did you like the most and why? Which character did you like the least and why?
What major emotion or emotions did the story evoke in you as a reader?
Did the characters seem real and believable? Can you relate to their predicaments? To what extent do they remind you of yourself or someone you know?
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