by Jade Kerrion
“He doesn’t. But he cares a great deal about the guests. Marie had reserved the most expensive cottage for a month, and now, all the resort has gotten out of it is her nonrefundable deposit of a week’s stay. It’s never a good idea to mess with a guest.”
“Damn it.” A muscle twitched in Phil’s cheek. “What a goddamned mess.”
“Marie also paid for your physical therapy and your sessions with Dr. Biles.”
“Yes, I found out today. Why?” Phil sat across from Rio. He looked at the check on the table between them but did not reach for it. “Why would she give me so much money?”
“Because it’s just money. In the end, you can’t take it with you, and money’s a proxy for many things.”
“Like what?”
Rio shrugged. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
Like love.
Chapter 7
Phil did not contact Marie, not for the entire month she was in St. Lucia. She walked along the beaches and went swimming in the crystal clear water. She lounged in the sand and stared up at the vegetation-covered peaks in the background and the endless ocean in the foreground.
If paradise existed anywhere on earth, surely it had to be here—where life collided and blossomed on the edge of the sea.
And she thought about him. She almost always started out in a tangled flurry—part anger, part frustration—but an undercurrent of peace usually emerged as the day went on. All the love in the world won’t make a difference if we’re not both on the same page. I’ve done what’s right for us—individually—and now the ball is in his court.
He did not seem to have any intention of returning it.
If that was his decision, she would respect it. If all he wanted was the money, then he would have it, and there was nothing left to say. There was no reason to feel cheated or shortchanged. It was his share of the money after all; on that point, Marie remained certain.
She returned to New York City, relaxed and refreshed, and in time for the start of the new school year. The first week was a mad scramble to meet the kids in her third-grade class, many of whom were younger siblings of children she had taught previously. She eventually settled into a routine, spending most evenings in the teachers’ room, going over her students’ work. It was noisier there; the younger teachers hung out to exchange stories and tips and the flurry that surrounded Marie kept her from dwelling on the silence in her empty home.
However, she could not avoid her apartment indefinitely. When she went home that evening, she settled down in front of her computer to pay the bills. The balance in her bank account was still absurdly high. Phil had not yet cashed the check she had given him. Grumbling to herself, she mentally subtracted the amount due to him and worked on reconciling her checkbook.
Her cell phone rang. Still distracted, she snatched it up with one hand, her attention still on her computer screen. “Hello?”
There was a brief silence on the other end before he said, “Hi, Marie.”
She sat up straight. Her heart, however, launched into a hysterical beat. “Phil…how are you?”
“Better. Good, actually.”
“Still in Key West?” If she tried really hard, she could almost hear the sound of waves in the background.
“Yes,” he said. “How’s school?”
“Same old story. Busy. You remember David from two years ago?”
“That little kid who brought his pet lizard to school, and then it escaped?”
“It was accidental, or so he says. Anyway, he has apparently graduated into keeping pet snakes, and he’s got a younger sister in my class now. She brought his snake to school yesterday, and it wasn’t for show and tell. Apparently, she’s opposed to keeping animals in cages.”
“She released the reptile in your class?”
“The janitor, cook, and assistant principal spent several hours tracking it down. In the furor, it went from class to class, making the rounds.”
“Sounds like just another normal day at school.” Phil chuckled. The sound, warm, familiar, and relaxed, stirred aching desire in the pit of Marie’s stomach. That was the Phil she had fallen in love with—the Phil before the war.
“And you? How are you doing?” Marie swallowed hard before forcing out the words. “How’s Lucy?”
“I don’t know. The manager fired her the day you left.”
“What? Why?”
“There were several reasons, but they included deliberately deceiving a guest, causing her to check out from the resort.”
“Me? She was fired because of me?”
“She was fired because of that ridiculous playacting on her cell phone. The manager doesn’t mind if the staff have issues with each other, but to screw with the guests—that’s a big hell no.”
“But I didn’t think it would…I didn’t mean for her to lose her job. I just wanted to get out of there.”
“Her choice. Her actions. Her consequences. Lucy started the chain of events by lying to you. She wasn’t pregnant, and she wasn’t my fiancée. In fact, when we first got together, I told her I wasn’t ready for a relationship, and the night before, we had a fight about it. She thought our time together had meant more. I told her nothing had changed.”
“Women tend to read more into things.”
“And hear more than is said.”
Marie laughed. “No, we just hear the things we want to hear. Or at least, I do.” A sigh replaced the laughter. “I know I’ve been horribly guilty of doing that, and I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for—”
“There’s plenty of blame to go around.”
“Most of it is mine,” Phil said firmly.
“Including the fact that I can’t balance my checkbook.”
Phil was silent for a moment, and then he chuckled. “Oh, that. I’m not depositing that check.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s yours.”
“I bought the ticket while we were still married.”
“I know. I bought a ticket too. You won. I lost. Fair and square. The money is yours, although…thank you for paying for the counseling and the physical therapy. It’s helping.”
“Good. That’s all I wanted. To help you.”
“I know.”
Marie’s chest burned from the tears lodged in her heart. Phil felt closer than he had ever been although they were separated by thousands of miles. The conversation had flowed easier than any conversation they had enjoyed in years.
“Marie,” Phil broke the silence.
“Yeah?”
“I know Christmas is still some months away, but I might be able to get some time off, and if you don’t have any plans, I’d like to come visit you.”
It was the sign she had been waiting for, the step forward she had been praying for. Marie’s heart soared. “You’re coming to New York? Are you crazy? Why would we spend Christmas freezing our butts off in New York City when we could be strolling along the beach in Key West?”
“You’ll come?” Phil’s voice caught ever so slightly.
“I’ll make my flight reservations based on my vacation schedule, and I’ll e-mail you the dates.”
“Okay. And Marie, it was good talking to you.”
Yeah, it was. She managed a contented sigh. Peace surrounded her like a cashmere wrap, soft, silky, and perfectly warm.
Phil asked softly, “Can I call you again?”
“Anytime.” All the time.
The conversation trailed into silence, but they sat on the phone for a long time, listening to each other breathe.
Months flew by and the Christmas music was blasting loudly from the storefronts when Marie scurried out of her apartment building with her luggage bag in tow. She ducked her head as she slid into the passenger seat of Nicole’s BMW.
Her friend looked at her. “Got everything?”
Marie patted down the pockets of her backpack. “Tickets. Passport, just in case. Wallet and ID. Phone. Yup, all set.” She peered out
at the light flurry of snow drifting down to rest on the windshield. “Damn, I am glad to be out of the cold.”
“You’ll be coming back to a New York buried under six feet of snow. You’re getting out just ahead of the storm.” Nicole cast Marie a quick glance before pulling out onto the road. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited.”
“It’s been four months. Phil and I talk every day; sometimes, several times a day.” Marie felt a smile tug at her lips. “It’s good on the phone. Dr. Biles was right.”
“Are you talking to the doctor too?”
“Yes, once a week. The long distance marriage counseling is working. Phil and I needed the separation to rediscover each other. Our time apart has helped us sort things out in small, controlled encounters.”
“And are you ready for the in-person experience now?”
Marie heard the quiet note of doubt and censure in Nicole’s voice. She turned to look at her friend. “I love him, Nicole. He is the first and only man I’ve ever loved. He’s changed.”
“You said it yourself—you’ve had controlled encounters. It won’t be quite as controlled when you’re with him, day in day out, every moment of the day.”
“Life isn’t about control, and it’s not about fixing every problem. Phil’s ready to take a chance on himself and on us, which is a huge step up from where he was last summer. Back then, he was trying to fix himself, because he knew he had to. This time, he’s fixing himself because of what it could mean for his future, for both of us. I’m ready, Nic. He’s ready. This week together—it’s meant to be; I can feel it. It’ll change everything.” She hugged herself excitedly.
Nicole grinned at her. “Fate and destiny, huh?”
“Like the lottery ticket. But I also believe in changing fate and destiny if you don’t like where they’re taking you.” Marie looked at Nicole. “You helped me stick up for myself two years ago when you convinced me to get the restraining order. And you were right. It didn’t feel like it then when Phil shot himself, but in the end, we’re in a better place. Divorced, but better. Right now, it’s like when we were first dating, before he went to Afghanistan. I think we managed to find the reset button.”
“I’m glad for you,” Nicole said, and this time, she sounded like she meant it.
The trip to JFK International Airport was a nightmare crawl through traffic. By the time Marie arrived, it was snowing hard. “You drive safe, okay?” Marie told Nicole as she grabbed her bag from the trunk.
“Absolutely.” Nicole threw her arms around Marie. “Have a good time. Call me when you get there.”
The airport was more crowded than usual—no surprise, given the Christmas rush—but Marie had ample time to get through security. She was walking toward her gate when the wall of white outside the window stopped her in her tracks. In the twenty minutes since she arrived at the airport, the storm had whipped into a blizzard. Lashed by torrential winds, snow flew sideways. The baggage handlers scurried indoors. Unsecured baggage carts rolled across the tarmac, slamming into airport buggies, and even into the wheel carriages of nearby airplanes.
Clear, professional voices came over the loudspeaker, one after another announcing flight delays. Marie held her breath until she heard, “American flight 947 to Miami is delayed. Please check the flight monitor for further details.”
But there were no further details on the large flight monitors in the terminal, just row after row of flight departures flashing a yellow DELAYED sign.
“It’s the storm of the century,” Marie overheard a man say. “No plane is going to get out of here today.”
She turned around. The man wore a pilot’s uniform and a grim frown on his face. She caught his attention. “What about tonight or tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “The weather map shows the storm right over us, and it’s a big one. It’ll probably snow for several more hours, and by the time it’s done, there will be snowdrifts half the height of the terminal building. They’ll have to be cleared and the planes have to be de-iced before anyone can get anywhere.” Even as he spoke, several yellow DELAYED signs flashed into red CANCELLED signs.
Marie’s heart sank. She reached for her cell phone. Phil picked up almost immediately. “Are you at the airport now?” he asked without even saying hello.
“Yeah, but my flight’s delayed.”
“I know. I just got the text notification from the airline.”
He had been tracking her flight? The thought warmed her briefly, but it was quickly inundated beneath the crashing reality of the snowstorm all the around her. “Maybe it’ll clear soon.”
“The weather report doesn’t look good,” he said.
“I want to be with you.” Her voice cracked. “I’ve been counting down the weeks…the months.”
“I know, but that plane’s not going anywhere in that storm. I’d rather you be safe on the ground than in the air.”
“I’m going to talk to the folks at the counter. Maybe they can rebook me on another flight. I just need to get out of here.” The urgency swelled in her chest. “I just—”
“Marie.”
“I was counting on it—like a sign, you know, a fresh start.”
“You know, for a twenty-first century girl, you’re way too obsessed with turning everyday things into signs. Sometimes, stuff just happens.”
“Like a storm that wasn’t supposed to start until I was on my way to you? What if it’s a sign?”
“Marie, relax. When have you ever known the weatherman to get their predictions right? They lick their finger, stick it in the air, and say, ‘Thirty-five percent chance of showers.’”
Marie giggled at the prissy tone in his voice, but the humor was soon suffocated by the anxiety crowding her mind. “Life has always given me signs, Phil. The coincidence of our first meeting—”
“There wasn’t anything coincidental about that.”
“The…wait, what do you mean?”
“Your brother set you up. After years of watching you from afar, I finally went to him and told him that I’d committed the cardinal bro sin. I’d fallen in love with his sister. After he contemplated rearranging my face, he decided I might not be so bad after all. He didn’t think I stood a chance of being noticed, though, so he set you up to be stranded, and for me to come along to save you. He knew you had a weakness for the white knight saving the princess thing; after all, he’d spent years reading all those fantasy stories to you.”
Marie’s eyes narrowed. Her voice was quiet. “He and you set me up?”
“You wanted a sign. We gave you one.”
“I wanted a sign…how dare you interfere with…with—”
“The universe?” Phil asked. “Is that what you wanted to say? Stop your fixation on the universe giving you signs. When I shot you, it wasn’t a sign from the universe. It was a sign from me, saying that I was an out-of-control asshole who needed to get a grip on life.”
“It was still a sign, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t fate or destiny. It was me. People give signs. The rest is just damned coincidence.”
Marie sighed as she stared out at the dizzying slash of snow outside the window. “The storm wasn’t supposed to start for hours. Maybe it’s not a sign about us, but it’s still a sign I shouldn’t get on that plane.”
“The storm is going to stop, and you’ll be able to get out of there.”
“I suppose so.”
“Talk to those folks behind the counter. They’ll be able to help you.”
Those folks behind the counter, though, did not share Phil’s certainty. The harried-looking agent tapped on the keyboard, her gaze constantly darting to the computer screen, as the line of people behind Marie kept growing. “At this point, I can’t make any promises about when we can get you out of here. It’s Christmas, and many of the flights over the next few days are already sold out. There aren’t many seats to spare, but we’ll find all we can and do our best to rebook you on another flight.”
&nb
sp; “So, do I just wait here?”
The agent looked out the window. “Nothing’s going to be happening for several hours, but considering the weather, I don’t recommend going anywhere.”
Marie called Phil and delivered the bleak news as she walked away from the counter. “The most important thing right now might be bagging a chair, except that they’re all already taken.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“Wait, I guess. It would be crazy to try to get back to the apartment in this weather. I’ll probably get stuck in a cab caught in traffic and it would be worse than being at the airport. Don’t worry, Phil.” Marie tried to smile, but wondered if he heard the despair in her voice. “I’ll keep trying to get out to you.” But perhaps some things are just not meant to be.
“I know.”
From the bleakness in his voice, she knew he had heard her, loud and clear.
The “several hours” dragged into more than a dozen hours. Passengers were offered $200 vouchers and an opportunity to rebook their flight after Christmas, but what good would that do her? The storm lightened for an hour or two, but before any real progress could be made on the three-foot-high snowdrifts on the tarmac, it started up again, screaming with a fury that made the windows rattle.
Not meant to be. The words settled into Marie’s chest like a litany. She tried to call Phil, but the call bounced into voicemail.
It was yet another sign that their reunion wasn’t meant to be.
“Paging Marie Vargas, please see our agents at Gate 34. Paging Marie Vargas, please see our agents—”
She scurried up to the counter and identified herself.
The agent managed a tired smile. “I found a seat for you on a flight leaving on the 29th.”
“But that’s a week away, and it’s after Christmas.” And it would mean only two days with Phil before she had to return to New York City and begin the new school term.
“I know, and I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can do.”
“Isn’t there anything before that? Anything with another airline?”
“Everything’s fully booked. I’m sorry. If you have any flexibility with your plans, perhaps you could take a voucher instead? You’ll have the option of rebooking your flight until the end of February without any rebooking fees.”