Unseen Messages(148)

And when he gave it to Coco, her toothless smile was the biggest she’d ever given.

.............................

AUGUST

We’d found a patch of guava last week.

They were tart and juicy and far too short supply.

They’d also been the final treat we would have for a while.

Because life had been too kind to us.

Or at least, that was what faceless fate deemed.

We’d lived on our patch of dirt for two years. We’d suffered mental boredom, debilitating depression, overwhelming happiness, pregnancy, childbirth, and puberty.

Through it all, we’d kept pushing onward, determined to stay alive and not just survive.

However, instead of being rewarded for our tenacity and never-failing belief to try, to hope, to grow, we were punished far too harshly.

Whatever doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.

Our daily motto was a damn mockery after what happened.

Since Coco’s birth, we’d lived in suspended joy.

We swam.

We ate.

We laughed.

We daydreamed.

And every life achievement—Conner’s present for Coco, Pippa’s three-tiered sandcastle, and Galloway’s many creations—was recorded faithfully on our video diary.

We stored memory after memory.

Hungry to remember our present while trying to forget the past.

Coconut was our future now, and she’d been born in the wilds of Fiji. We’d accepted that if we hadn’t been found after two years, the chances of ever being noticed were slim.

It gave us freedom in a way to let go. To mourn finally. To grieve a life we would never see again.

Coconut excelled.

I had no idea if the pace of her development was normal, but she exploded into personality and opinions, vocal and stubborn.

At six months old, she’d already learned how to roll over and face plant in the sand. She constantly grabbed my food if I ate with her in my lap and could sit up unsupported on her little baby rug.

Her coos and babbles reached operatic levels and she held entire conversations with Pippa and Conner when they took her to the other side of the island so Galloway and I could finally have some one on one.

After so many months of healing (probably more than if I’d been in a hospital), I finally wanted sex.

To G, it’d been an eternity. I knew because he told me the first night we resumed our sexual relationship. He didn’t last long and barely pleasured me with a few thrusts before pulling out and spilling on the sand.

I teased him, saying his libido didn’t match his old age. That he was as potent and horny as a fifteen-year-old. But secretly, I was awed that even now, after my body had changed and silvery stretch marks decorated skinny hips and my breasts were no longer as perky, he still wanted me.

It made my world complete.

Utterly.

Totally.

Complete.

So it made the disaster that much harder to bounce back from.

We woke to smoke.

The cloying claustrophobia of burning alive.

“Get out! Everybody run!” Galloway was the first to spring into action. Hauling me from our bed, he stuffed Coco into my arms and shoved me from our home.

Stumbling in shock, I gasped as I turned to face our bungalow.

Fire.

The roof is on fire.

Conner appeared, dragging a panicked Pippa to join me on the sand. “What’s going on?” Pippa coughed as heavy black smoke surrounded us.

I couldn’t answer.

G.

Where’s G?

“Galloway!”

Coco screamed as the flames turned into an inferno, licking down the walls.

Galloway appeared, salvaging supplies from the burning building. Instead of saving himself, he did his best to save our world.

My phone with all our memories soared past.

My notebooks.

Our clothes.

Stored food and painstakingly gathered supplies.

“Hold her.” Squashing screaming Coco into Pippa’s arms, I sprinted forward to help.

Galloway vanished inside only to re-appear with his arms full of stuff. “Estelle, get the hell away.”

“No! I want to help.”

The roar of the fire whipped our words, drowning us in smoke and orange light.

Throwing the items out the door, his large hands landed on my shoulders. He shoved me backward. “Stay out. I’m almost done. Take the kids to the water’s edge. Just in case.”

“What about you? I won’t leave without you.”

“Do as I damn well say, Estelle.” Turning, he disappeared into the smoke-snarling abode.

“Stelly, come on!” Conner called, already carting Pippa and Coco toward the sea. The heat from the building charred the small hairs on my arms, singeing my eyebrows.

“I’m not leaving without Galloway!”

But I also couldn’t go inside. Already, smoke inhalation made me cough and splutter, blinded by the vibrantly destroying flames.

Galloway threw more belongings out and vanished one last time. When he returned, he held the blankets from our beds and charged onto the beach. Throwing the blankets onto the pile he’d saved, he ordered, “Help me get this farther from the blaze.”

Together, we dragged and kicked and carried our now sand-covered and mostly ruined supplies as far as we could before our lungs gave up and coughing rendered us useless.