The Last Oracle

by Colvin, Delia

  “My husband has the flu.”

  “Right. I spent time in rehab here.” The woman narrowed her eyes at Alex. “Fine looking man—what a pity.”

  Tossing some money on the counter for the water, Valeria moved to block the woman’s view of Alex and said, “I have to go.”

  “I’m just saying,” the woman said. “Try aspirin or Motrin?”

  When Valeria returned to Alex, she noticed he was shivering furiously, so Valeria wrapped her arms around him and whispered, “Do you want some aspirin?”

  After a few violent shivers, Alex said through gritted teeth, “No…let’s just let it run its course.”

  They boarded and located their first class seats. His hands were shaking as he tried to fasten his seat belt, and he noticed Valeria’s look of concern.

  With his eyes set at half-mast, he pulled the blanket around him.

  “No worries,” he said, attempting a smile. “I just need to sleep a while.” He patted her leg as he leaned into the seat awaiting take-off. The plane rolled out and, within a few minutes, they turned off the seatbelt sign. Alex pulled the blanket around his neck and rolled onto his side as he drifted into a restless sleep.

  A few hours later, the sky had become a purplish-blue ahead of them, with a golden hue bronzing the sky from behind. Most of the travelers had closed their window shades, and the lights were dim. Valeria watched Alex continue to tremble as he battled the demons left behind in the wake of the morphine. When the shaking stopped, she took his hand and fell asleep. It seemed only a short time later that the captain announced that they were on approach to Newark and the sun had risen.

  Valeria tapped Alex on the shoulder, and his eyes opened wide and clear as the corners of his mouth turned up playfully, as if the previous forty-eight hours had been only a nightmare.

  “Good morning.” He pulled her mouth to his. “I believe it’s time for a honeymoon!” he announced, and then kissed her as he shed the blanket. “I thought Newark might be less conspicuous as a destination. I’m going to clean up,” he said, as he stood and opened the overhead bin. He headed to the restroom with his toiletries bag and a clean shirt.

  Ten minutes later, he returned, looking like a model on a billboard.

  “We have a brief stop before we continue on to our destination.” His eyes brightened as he raised an eyebrow. “And then, we officially begin our honeymoon.”

  She smiled as the thrilling heat moved through her—the word honeymoon had an even more powerful effect on her now, with the memory of their wedding night still fresh and again her face turned a flaming red.

  Seeing her blush, Alex burst into joyful laugh as he brushed his hand over her face and then pressed his lips to hers in a kiss full of promise.

  As they exited customs, a uniformed limo driver held a sign that read, “Morgan.”

  “I don’t want you to get your hopes up, love. We can’t stay in Manhattan. Too many people would expect that. But I thought we could spend a few hours here before we head off.”

  “That sounds wonderful!”

  They drove into Manhattan. She felt a thrill at being in the location she had considered home, until she met Alex and discovered their cottage—the cottage that was now a pile of ashes. Then they hit the stopped line of yellow cabs.

  “Perfect time to be here; there are so many cars that no one would notice one more,” he said.

  They drove up Columbus and then turned on 95th—her street. Valeria longed to be walking the streets with him. She remembered how uncertain she felt the last time they had been here. She had been completely mesmerized with him, and felt like a silly schoolgirl. He still mesmerized her—and she still felt like a silly schoolgirl. But now, she knew him and she knew them…and now they were married forever.

  She stared with longing at the steps where she had stood with Alex nearly a year before. He had seemed so confident when he followed her into her brownstone. Now she knew how difficult that must have been for him. Other men might do that—Alex didn’t. She sighed happily.

  “Sorry, beautiful, we can’t risk getting out here.”

  “That’s alright.”

  She did love New York, and she missed her brownstone, although it was considerably smaller than she remembered, and a world less romantic than their cottage. She shook her head. The cottage was replaceable, even if Alex had filled it with mementos that he had collected over the eons just for her. Alex’s centuries of artwork, the collection of leather-bound classics, and the family pictures were gone. But her husband was here, with her, and very much alive! She had always hoped to come back to New York with Alex—and here she was, no longer living an obscure life that offered her so little. Now, she was Valeria Morgan—Alex Morgan’s wife. What a different world it had become!

  They pulled into Central Park and the limo pulled over. Alex thanked the driver and tipped him and then he took her hand as they strolled through the southern half of the park under its deep green branches, passing children playing, and listening to musicians strumming their instruments next to the Bowman Bridge. They stopped to watch couples in rowboats on the lily-covered lagoon. Then Alex lifted his wrist and glanced at his watch.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She thought for a moment and then with some surprise said, “You know, actually, I am famished!”

  “Good! I believe it’s time for breakfast then.”

  As they walked along the trails, she remembered the only time they had been to New York together and how they had gone to breakfast less than a mile from here. They crossed out of the park and entered an exclusive apartment complex.

  “I wanted to take you for breakfast at Tiffany’s—not coffee and a doughnut from a street vendor—but an actual breakfast on the top floor. However, it seems that I could not gain access to a private and unobstructed view of Central Park.”

  They passed the doorman, and a uniformed attendant held the elevator for them. As they stepped onto the elevator, the attendant pressed the “P” at the top of the buttons.

  “To the top,” Alex said with a gleam in his eyes.

  The doorman smiled. “Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan. We’ve been expecting you.”

  The elevator opened to a luxurious entryway. A woman stood at the only door on the floor, wearing a white chef’s uniform, with her long, dark gray hair tied back.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Morgan! I’m Sarabeth Levine.”

  Valeria’s jaw dropped. “As in, our favorite restaurant Sarabeth’s? As in, Oprah’s ‘favorite things,’ Sarabeth’s?”

  The woman nodded and Valeria entered the suite.

  “We have you set up out here.” Sarabeth led them through a fantastic apartment with a glassed wall and elegantly furnished terrace that looked out over Central Park and the city.

  “Mrs. Morgan, I understand that you have a preference for our frittatas. And then to drink, coffee with cream and can I bring you both a mimosas?”

  “Just one mimosa for my wife,” Alex said, as he took Valeria’s hand in his and kissed it.

  “How did you arrange all of this?” Valeria asked in shock.

  “We are actually right on schedule. I was afraid we might miss it. We do need to catch another flight in a few hours.”

  Moments later, a fruit salad was served with coffee and a mimosa for Valeria, and freshly squeezed orange juice for Alex. The sky was a glorious shade of blue with a few thin pink clouds that seemed suspended. The smell from the apartment was of freshly baked goods, bacon, and coffee. On the terrace, the air was still cool with morning and promised to be an extraordinary day.

  Reaching across to him, she took his hand in hers. “You look better.”

  “I feel better!”

  “You didn’t need to do the morphine for me.”

  “It wasn’t completely selfless. The sooner I was gone—the sooner I would be whole and with you on our honeymoon.” The corner of his mouth turned up and his eyes sparkled.

  Seeing him whole again, she could begin to think about their f
uture. And while she was enjoying herself here with Alex, the shadow of the past few days hadn’t completely lifted. But she allowed herself to anticipate their time alone and wondered if they would go to Bermuda, the Hamptons, or maybe even Maine.

  Alex’s smile broadened. “I can see your mind going a million miles a minute and I should warn you now that I have no intention of telling you until we arrive.” He winked at her and then pointed to the east side of Central Park a few blocks from their location. “That’s where I met you.”

  It seemed to be only chance that had led her there and into Alex’s arms…and her destiny.

  “Where you rescued me,” she said. “I still remember the moment when your arms came around me—”

  “You mean just as we were both hit by the kid with too much testosterone and way too much car!” He laughed.

  She sighed. “Yes...when you saved me.” She looked up in thought. “It felt as if the world shifted at that moment and was finally...right.”

  He took her hand in his and kissed it as their eyes filled with love, but they were interrupted as breakfast was served.

  A server placed a plate in front of her with a beautiful frittata, fried potatoes, and Sarabeth’s own English muffin. “Alex told me that you like my English muffins.”

  “They are fantastic! Thank you!” She had only dined there once, the day she had met him, and he remembered everything. The waitress served Alex Eggs Benedict with a tossed salad. It was the same meal they had eaten on their first meeting.

  After the dishes were cleared, and Sarabeth and the staff left, Valeria glanced inside the apartment toward a door which promised to be the bedroom. She rose and went to Alex and put her arm around his neck. “Can’t we stay here?” Her eyes focused on his. “We could order in,” she whispered, and kissed the side of his face as she ran her fingers under the collar of his shirt to his chest.

  He pulled her around and onto his lap. “Oh, you could so easily convince me to stay,” he said softly, and then drew a deep breath as he brushed the hair back from her face. “But I don’t want to worry another day about your safety—especially after the fire. Whoever lit it is obviously…” He turned his head as if to end that sentence. Alex rarely slipped, and he had not intended to discuss danger or the fire. She realized, then and there, that he was still recovering. His eyes brightened. “I have other plans for us. I hope you’ll humor me.” Alex glanced at his watch. “As a matter of fact, our ride should be here any moment.”

  “Our ride?” Valeria heard a hum.

  “Yes, sounds like he’s here. Come with me.”

  He took her hand and led her back inside the apartment and out the front door toward the elevators, where she spotted another hallway. He opened a door and went up some granite steps to another door. When he opened the second door, they were flooded with a cacophony of sound as a helicopter landed a few feet from them.

  They loaded through the open entry of the chopper and the door was closed by the co-pilot. Alex picked up a headset with a microphone attached and pulled it on his head, handing another to Valeria. Then she saw Alex’s mouth move and heard with a slight lag through her headset, “Beautiful, the mic is voice activated. Up front is Captain George.” Alex signaled to the pilot with dark sunglasses and deep tan.

  “Good morning, ma’am!”

  “Hello, George!” She heard her voice over her headset.

  Alex offered George a thumbs up, and they lifted off.

  They crossed Central Park and flew over the Hudson continuing south toward Battery Park and the Statue of Liberty. It was a magnificent day and, sitting next to Alex, she reveled in being back in New York with him—even if it was for just a few hours.

  They circled Lady Liberty, which was thrilling, and then headed east toward the Hamptons. She thought how wonderful it would be to spend time with Alex in the Hamptons. The flight along the coast was beautiful, and then they turned inland. Alex said, “East Hampton,” and they circled a small airport and landed.

  After removing their headsets, Alex patted George on the shoulder and then helped Valeria out of the chopper. As soon as they were clear of the blades, Alex wrapped his arms around her. Again, she saw the gleam of joy in his eyes.

  “Are we staying here in the Hamptons?”

  He shook his head. “No…” He brushed the side of her face and kissed her tenderly, and then drew a deep breath. “No. Unfortunately, we have several more hours until we reach our destination. There were more direct routes, but Lars and I agreed that this was better.”

  He led her to a small jet.

  “What about our suitcases?”

  He lowered his brow. “Mrs. Morgan, it seems that we have an issue with trust!” he said, and then his mouth turned up in his sexy smile.

  Valeria hated surprises—but this one, she was willing to accept.

  After a few hours of flying in the small jet, Valeria heard the captain say something about Puerto Rico. She hoped they weren’t staying in Puerto Rico—her memory of it was loud and obnoxious. She was certain a lot of that had to do with her frame of mind, having just found out that Paolo had lied to her, combined with too much rum and Paolo…and the hangover…and to top it off, seeing Alex for such a short time and believing it was the last time she ever would.

  Still, they were on their honeymoon and anywhere they were alone for an extended period of time would satisfy her needs. But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, she just did not want to be in Puerto Rico. The plane landed and Alex retrieved their luggage himself. They hopped in a cab and transferred to a small airport a few miles away. The cab pulled into the hangar area and dropped them off near a shack that said, “Avgas.”

  Alex carried their bags through a sea of single engine planes and then stopped as if to present a surprise. There, in front of her, was a single-propeller aircraft with a high wing that looked as if it had seen better days. After all the luxury, this was a bit of a shock. Alex’s grin continued to widen as he loaded their bags into the back of the plane. The seats were heavily worn red and black leather. Valeria looked at Alex confused.

  “What’s the matter? You don’t like my plane?”

  “This…this is yours?”

  Alex nodded appreciatively at the old gray aircraft. “Yep...well, more appropriately ours.”

  “Ours,” she said hesitantly. “We’re going to…fly in this?” Her concerns were numerous.

  He gazed at the extended nose in the front and ran his hands over the wing with affection, as if it were a miracle of the sky.

  “She’s got a lot of miles on her. But she’s perfect for what we need!”

  “It’s a ‘she’?” Valeria asked in a teasing tone.

  “Come on!” he said excitedly, as he opened the door and helped her into the passenger side. The plane had the smell of old leather. Then he walked around to the front of the plane and opened the door, grabbing a plastic coated sheet of paper from an area on the center console. Valeria watched as Alex walked around the plane checking several things before crawling in next to her.

  He seemed to be checking several gauges, and then he started the engine. Alex put on his headphones and placed a pair of voice-activated headphones on Valeria’s head.

  “You ready?” he asked excitedly.

  “Not sure,” she said hesitantly.

  He laughed and patted her leg. “You’ll be fine.” He cranked a knob on a two-way radio and she heard voices; then she made out Alex’s voice in the mix.

  “Tower, Helio one two eight one two, V-F-R to the east. Taxi for take-off, I have Bravo,” Alex said.

  A voice answered, “Helio one two eight one two, Isla Grande Tower, taxi runway niner,” the tower controller said, and then in a friendly voice added, “Good to see you back, buddy! I expected it would be a while after the last trip.”

  Alex had a thrill in his eyes that Valeria had never seen before—it appeared there were a lot of things she had yet to discover about her husband.

  “Helio eigh
t one two, taxi runway niner. Thanks tower!” he said.

  They taxied down a piece of pavement, parallel to a single runway. As he prepared to turn onto the runway, Alex stopped and his grin widened. “I’ve imagined this for a while. So forgive me for reveling in pleasure,” she heard his voice through her headset. “By the way, you are now my official co-pilot, so you’ll need to read this off please.”

  “What does the co-pilot do?” she asked, as she took the list from him.

  The corner of his mouth turned up seductively and his eyes gleamed, and then he closed his eyes, shook his head as if releasing the thought, and said, “I have to admit that I’ve had a few fantasies about what that job might entail...but, for now, the co-pilot reads off the checklist. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

  “Well, what did your other co-pilots do?” Then thoughts ran through her head. “Never mind, I don’t think I really want to know.”

  “I’ve never had another co-pilot,” he said, adjusting a few knobs.

  “No! Really?” Valeria asked incredulously.

  “Not a one!” He winked. “I’ve held that position open until you could fill it.”

  She read off part of the checklist as Alex looked at various gauges and said, “Check.”

  “Good. We’re all set.” He glanced at her from behind his dark glasses. “Are you okay with this?”

  How could she tell him she was terrified? She decided that she couldn’t.

  “No. I think it’s fine.”

  “Fine?” Alex smirked.

  “Yes.” She scooted back in her seat and looked straight ahead. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Alex—it was the old rusted plane that gave her doubts.

  “Well, all right then. I’ll take that. It’s probably the best I’m going to get right this minute.” He rotated a knob on the radio and said, “Tower, Helio eight one two, ready at runway niner.” Alex looked down the runway and then said, “Your job is to watch for other aircraft. See any?”