Unseen Messages(196)

“I spent a quarter of a million dollars.”

“You what?”

“Of your money.”

“Our money. I willingly gave you the right to use it as you saw fit.”

“I’m so glad you trust me.” I kissed her again, radiating happiness.

She squirmed in my hold. “I trust you, but I might revoke that trust if you don’t start telling me what the hell is going on.”

I glanced at my daughter. “Want to tell her or shall I?”

Coco’s green-blue eyes popped wide as she bounced in my arms. “Tell me. Me. Secret. Me.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you and then you tell Mummy, got it?”

Coco nodded with utmost seriousness. “Uh-huh.”

Smiling at Estelle, I whispered low in Coco’s ear. “Tell her exactly what I tell you. Mummy...”

Coco paused then repeated. “Mummy...”

“You know the island where we crashed and thought we’d die?”

Coco repeated in her childish voice (minus a few stumbles and age-related discrepancies).

Once done, I whispered, “The island where we fell in love and learned what was truly important?”

That line she didn’t deliver too well. But Estelle laughed and nodded anyway, my message slowly filtering into comprehension. Her mouth parted, a feral hope igniting in her gaze.

“Well...” I murmured.

“Well...” Coco mimicked.

Brushing aside her blonde curls, I whispered, “I bought it. We’re going home.”

Coco froze. Her eyes popped and wisdom far older than her age shone through. “Home?”

I nodded. “Home.”

“Turtles and fishies and and and...”

Estelle clamped a hand over her mouth. “What—what do you mean?”

Pinching Coco, I ordered, “You didn’t tell Mummy the last part.”

Coco beamed. “Island. Home. Going home. Home!”

Estelle wobbled.

I caught her.

Just like all those years she caught me and cared for me. It was my turn. Once again, she’d made it possible for us to survive. Without the money, we would be forever homesick and lost. Now...we could do whatever we wanted.

All because of her.

“Ho—how? When?” Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t understand.”

“How—I called the Fijian government and explained that considering we’d lived in their country for almost four years, that technically makes us a citizen, or at least a sure bet to give a residency visa, if they felt so inclined. After all, our daughter is legally Fijian being born in their waters and all.”

“And they agreed to that?”

“It’s amazing what a promise of good PR will do.”

Estelle blinked. “Okay, so you managed to get approval to live there...how does that give you permission to just buy an island?”

“Technically, I haven’t bought it.”

“Then...”

“I’ve rented it for the next eighty years. They’ll retain ownership, but it will be in our name and no one else can touch it.”

Estelle shook harder with every breath. “You—you’re serious.”

“I’m deadly serious.”

“But what about...Madi and my singing and...Galloway, there aren’t any facilities on the island. We made do but Coco needs nutrition. She needs hygiene. We all do.”

The smugness inside me overflowed. “I’ve already thought of that.”

Her lips parted. “What?”

“I’m a builder. I intend to add to our bungalow with proper structure and shelter. I’ll import nails and rebar and iron for the roof. I’ll install rain tanks and septic systems and vegetable crops. Anything you want, we can build, create, or grow.”

“But what about life outside the island? What about family and friends? Medicine and hospitals? Schooling for Coco?”

I hugged her hard. “That’s the best part. They know where we are now. They can visit; live there for all I care. And the rest, we’ll have a boat. We’ll have access to whatever we need.”

“And Pippa?”

My soul hurt for a moment then rehealed. “She’ll know where to find us. It’s her island as much as it is ours. I’ve put their names on the contract, too.”

“Theirs?”

“Her and Conner.”

My heart smarted.

“You did?”

“I did.”

“Can you do that? Add a deceased person to the deed?”

I frowned. “Who knows. But that’s what I requested.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Are you happy?”

“Galloway, I’m...I’m ecstatic. I’m blown away. I can’t believe this is happening.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Wait, when is this happening?”

I smirked. “How attached are you to this place?”

“Not at all.”

“How long do you need to pack up?”

“Um, is that a trick question? An hour...tops.”

“In that case...”

“Tell me.” She laughed, clutching my hand. “Damn, you drag it out.”