Medium in Paradise: A Humorous Paradise Romance (15 page)
Read Medium in Paradise: A Humorous Paradise Romance Online
Authors: Tabby Moray
“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”
Dina and Arnie were standing in the hospital room looking down at the figure of Sam. Her skin was waxy, her body thin from being in a coma for just over two years. Her once glossy auburn hair lay dull and lifeless against wan shoulders. It was difficult for Dina to relate this person lying in bed to the vibrant spirit she knew.
“I am.” A play of emotions played across Arnie’s face, until all that was left was sadness. The sheen of tears glistened in his eyes. He swiped at them, then looked at Dina, his mouth turned up on one side. “I kept her hooked up to these machines because I thought she’d pull through. She always pulled through everything else difficult in her life. But a part of me knew—just like you knew with Anthony—that it was over. Her life was gone and the woman I knew wasn’t coming back.”
“I’m sorry. She was a wonderful woman.” And pretty annoying. But of course she kept those words to herself.
After Dina led a short prayer to wish Sam a safe crossing over into the light, Arnie waved in the doctor and nurse standing outside the door. The doctor turned the ventilator of and within moments, it was over. An orderly walked in a short while later and wheeled the sheet covered body away.
Arnie walked over to the window, sightlessly looking outside. Dina went to stand beside him, putting a hand around his waist. A shudder went through him, then another and another until one ran seamlessly into the other. She pulled him against her shoulder, running her fingers soothingly through his hair and whispering comforting words.
“She’s really gone,” he finally said, his face blotchy, his eyes red.
“She’s moved into the light. She’s where she belongs now.” She took his arm, leading him out into the hallway. “Let’s go to my house. I’ll make you some of my famous chicken soup.”
They walked out into the early morning sunshine of an already sultry day. It felt good to know she was going to a house that was inhabited only by her. It felt even better to know that Sam was finally home.
**
One Year Later
“Arnie, you know I’m not a huge fan of surprises,” Dina said as Arnie’s boat cut through the water to destinations unknown.
“I know. But you’ll know what’s happening soon enough so just sit back like Shrimp and enjoy the ride.”
Dina looked over at Shrimp. His tongue was lolling out in pure doggy joy as he poised with his paws on the safety railing running along the side of the boat. His ears flapped in the wind and he readjusted his paws as the boat was rocked by a small wave. The veterinarian had recently informed her on the eve of his first birthday that she needed to cut back on the doggy treats because he was obese for a dog of his size. Obese?
Ha
! She knew obese. He was merely pleasingly plump. She was forced to readjust her partisan opinion when he dropped his squat legs to the floor and shuffled over to her, his stomach nearly touching the floor of the boat. But he was a Hound Dog mix. They were supposed to be fat.
Her attentions were drawn to the sun setting over the pier side restaurant where they’d had their first dinner together. Even from this distance she could see they were packed with customers.
“Arnie—we’re not gonna be able to get a seat and I’m starved,” she whined, turning to watch him as he expertly drew up alongside the pier, neatly settling his boat between two others.
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s taken care of,” he said with a mysterious wink.
He helped her out of the boat and they made their way over to the restaurant, Shrimp lumbering along behind them. Weaving their way through throngs of people waiting for a seat, he whispered in the ear of the host. She nodded, then led them past a cordoned off section of the creaky plank walkway to a table overlooking the water.
“I like your style,” she said as they were handed their menus. After they put in their orders, they chatted over glasses of chilled wine, enjoying the magnificent sight of the sunset as streaks of peach and purple melted into the horizon.
“So you know how much I care about you, right?”
“I do. Especially after tonight,” Dina said, looking up from her plate of crab stuffed sole. “This food is delicious. How in the world did you manage to reserve a table? They told us they don’t do reservations.”
“They do on special nights like tonight.”
“Oh yeah? And what makes tonight so special?” she asked, taking another bite of her fish. She dropped a small bite down for Shrimp who promptly gobbled it up, snuffling around the table for crumbs long after it was devoured.
“This--,”
“What—what’s going on?” Dina said, looking up from her plate.
With shocked fascination she watched as Arnie got down on one knee, his eyes shining with hope. The people at other tables had stopped eating and were watching them with keen interest.
“Dina Mathilda Douglass, will you marry me?”
She didn’t hesitate when she said, “I would’ve married you six months ago.”
Everyone clapped and cheered as he slid the ring on her finger, kissing her in the process.
She heard one woman loudly proclaim, ‘This is the second proposal I’ve seen this week. When are
you
going to pop the question, William?’ and felt sorry for the poor man this query was thrust upon.
“I hope you know you’re marrying into a big crazy family.”
“I’m ready for it.”
They clinked their glasses together and spent the remainder of the evening talking about when to set the wedding date and whether their ceremony should be in a church or on the beach.
**
Dina was awoken from a sound sleep by a noise coming from the direction of her living room. Shrimp, the lazy beast, was sound asleep. At some point, Arnie had left the bed. Where the hell was he? Then she saw light glowing beneath the bathroom door and figured he was occupied. Plucking the .22 Arnie had bought her from the nightstand, she nudged Shrimp awake with her foot, forcing him up so he could accompany her down the hall. She’d be ready for any unwelcome intruders.
With Shrimp moving at a snail’s pace ahead of her, she flattened her back against the wall, peering around the edge once she reached the living room. She didn’t see anything. The noise sounded again, this time seeming as if it were coming from the kitchen. Aiming her gun the way Arnie had taught her, she eased her back against the opposite wall in order to get a better vantage point.
There was definitely someone there. She could see them in the shadows near the fridge. Heart beating an anxious drumbeat against her ribcage. Shrimp ran over to the intruder, uttering a gruff ‘woof!’, then sitting down and looking at the intruder expectantly. The fridge opened, and what looked like a slice of deli turkey was tossed down to the disloyal traitor.
“Hey! Stop feeding my dog or I’ll shoot!” she hissed, angrily. Evidently hard of hearing, they threw him another slice. “
Hey
—my dog’s already overweight. Stop feeding him or I swear to God--,”
“Surprise!” Sam yelled, popping out from behind the fridge with a huge smile.
With a loud scream, Dina pulled the trigger, shooting a hole in the door of her fridge. Shrimp yelped, turning tail and running to hide behind the couch.
“Sam—Sam, what the hell? I could’ve sworn I sent your ass to the light!”
“You did. But I’m baaack!” she grinned, in a bad imitation from the movie
Poltergeist
.
“What the hell’s going on?” Arnie shouted, running into the living room stark naked, gun in hand.
“Ahh, I really miss being alive,” Sam said, staring wistfully at Arnie’s nether regions.
“Oh, crap.” Arnie hurriedly reached for a throw pillow, holding it over himself like a shield.
“Sam, aren’t there any rules out there forbidding you from haunting people once you pass through the light?”
“Look, I’m just here for a quick visit, so don’t get your panties in a bunch. I wanted to see how my favorite couple was holding up.” She floated to the ceiling in her lotus pose, a pleased smile on her face. “I knew you guys were a good match.”
“We’re getting married,” Arnie said with a tentative smile. “Hold up the ring, honey.”
“Arnie, don’t encourage her or she won’t go away,” Dina warned.
“Oh, just hold up the ring, Dina,” Sam urged, happily.
She reluctantly did as she was told and Sam spent the next five minutes somersaulting and cha-cha’ing around the kitchen ceiling.
“Okay, I guess I’ll let you all get some sleep. Don’t worry, I won’t be back for at least a few days. See ya then!”
“Sam--! Ugh!” Dina yelled. She turned to Arnie, giggling at the sight of him with the tiny pillow guarding his private parts. “You can still back out of this marriage deal if you’re not up to all of this.” She sighed, walking toward him.
“Dina--,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms and lightly kissing her lips. “I thought I already told you. Cops are up for anything.”
I grew up in Columbia reading book after book as my escape from the rough neighborhood I was raised in. Through books, I’ve traveled to Kenya, China, Narnia and back. I was one of those avid Harlequin Romance readers that voraciously went through those novels like a mouse devouring cheese. So it was an easy transition to begin writing my own line of romance novels. I hope my readers enjoy reading my novels as much as I enjoyed writing them!
Thanks for giving me a try.
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TREASURE HUNTER IN PARADISE
“Now I want you to promise me again that you’ll call the minute you get off the plane.” Mrs. Nancy was looking at her as she was getting out of the car in front of Charlotte Douglass Airport. It was seven forty-nine on Wednesday morning, exactly five days before the April thirty-first deadline.
“I’ll call. I promise.” Reaching over and squeezing Mrs. Nancy’s hand, a surge of fondness washed over her. With her Uncle Tony missing in action, she was all she had now. The realization sent a chill through her body. If Mrs. Nancy were to die today she’d have nobody. No children, no husband. Nothing.
“I want you to enjoy yourself. Don’t worry about your next job or that no account man you were dating. Just look ahead and take every day like it’s a new present. Really, this is an adventure. An adventure I hope ends with that handsome uncle of yours alive and well.”
“You and me both.” Shoving her pessimistic thoughts away, she mustered up a smile.
“I’m going to want a lot of postcards and pictures, too. I’m old and don’t get as many letters as I used to. I’d love to see some pictures of you with a tribesman or two to add to my collection.”
“I’m not sure if there’ll be any tribesmen there, Mrs. Nancy. At least I don’t remember reading about any tribes…”
“There has to be some tribesmen. Why, you’ll practically be in Africa. Tribal people are all over the place there, right?”
“Right,” Ava sighed, giving up on trying to convince her otherwise. “I guess I’d better get going.”
After hugging Mrs. Nancy one last time, she pulled her suitcases into the airport to check-in, still nervous about the entire trip. When she was finally settled in her coach seat two hours later, she tried to quell her uneasiness. The people on the island spoke French and another indigenous language she had never heard of. Very few of them spoke English. The furthest out of the country she’d ever been had been a trip to Toronto. But, she kept her passport handy in case she ever felt daring enough to change her mind. Good thing too, because here she was headed to a destination that defined the word ‘exotic’.
By the time she took her connecting flight from Miami to Johannesburg, she was so wired up on caffeine and nerves, she wasn’t able to remember anything about either of the movies she’d watched. At one point, she found herself enmeshed in an inane conversation about global politics with a retired history professor on his way to Réunion. He had the look of a man well-versed with alcohol, his blue eyes red and watery over the glasses sitting on his nose. He sipped from a well-worn silver flask. She wasn’t certain how their conversation about South Africa’s bizarre fake marriage problem led to an invitation to join the elderly gentleman in the Mile High Club, but it did. She declined and their tête-à-tête took a steep nosedive.
Arriving at Tambo International at ten forty-six the following morning, Ava was cramped, tired and irritable as she stepped out into the hot, dry climate. She along with the rest of her flight mates, were ushered across the tarmac to three different airport shuttles. From there, they were driven to the wing of the airport where they’d pass through customs and pick up their luggage. Definitely not the best way to start her day in a foreign country.
Digging her cellphone out of her purse, she used an international calling card to call the number of Frederic Rako. After a series of clicks, she was connected. The phone rang three times before being picked up.
“
C’est Frederic
,” a deep, accented voice said on the other end.
“Hello—this is Ava Anderson,” she said, hesitantly. “My Uncle Tony wrote me and told me to call you about an inheritance?”
“He did? When did you receive a letter?” His voice on the other end was excited and hopeful.
“I don’t know. But the letter was sitting at my mother’s house for a few days before I got a hold of it.”
“How is that possible? He has been missing for three weeks. How can he send you a letter while he is missing?”
“Maybe he sent it before he went missing? That seems the most likely explanation.”
“Yes, I see. Where was the postage from?” he barked, his tone vaguely interrogatory.
“I believe South Africa and Madagascar.”
“Both?”
“If I recall correctly, yes.” Ava was beginning to get very nervous. The whole trip had felt last minute and strange from the outset. Now Frederic’s reaction confirmed that her original suspicions were correct. As if her uncle going missing wasn’t strange enough. Now she was getting letters from a missing man.
“I do not understand any of this,” he said with a sigh of frustration.
“Look, I got a letter in the mail telling me to call you when I arrived in Johannesburg and that’s what I did.”
“Wait--you are
here
? As in the continent of
Africa
?” He sounded shocked. In his agitation, his accent, which sounded very French moments before, sounded even more so now.
“Yes, that’s what he told me to do in his letter.” Of course in retrospect, Ava realized it would’ve made a lot more sense to have called him
before
she left the states. The voice on the other end cursed several times before responding. Clearly he agreed with her.
“Look—I will not be able to retrieve you until tomorrow,” he said, brusquely. “Perhaps even the day after. We will see. I am too busy here to really get away at all but I suppose I have no choice. I guess in American you have many hours to waste, eh? Not so much work as we have here?”
“It’s ‘America’ not ‘American’ and I work quite hard, thank you very much.” Ava’s temperature rose as the surly voice on the other end grew surlier.
“I certainly cannot buy last minute tickets to
America
as you just have,” he said, coolly. “I have to plan and scrape together paper money to make this happen. You? You decide to come and you arrive. Therefore, I assume in America--at least insofar as you are concerned--that you have an easy job where you can take off whenever you want. Am I wrong about this, Ava?”
“You are very wrong, Freddy--,”
“My name is Frederic,” he retorted.
“Look
Freddy
,” Ava enunciated each syllable to needle him further. She was so infuriated she didn’t bother to explain that her Uncle Tony had purchased the ticket. “Don’t worry about picking me up. I’ll get there on my own.”
“No, that is not a good idea for a single woman--” The voice on the other end was very alarmed.
Good.
“I’ll decide what a good idea is for me, Freddy.” Ava jabbed a thumb in her chest. “I’m an independent
American
woman who knows how to get where she needs to go without the help of anyone.”
“But--!”
“I’ll see you when I get there,” she interrupted. “All I need is the address.”
“Uncle will kill me if anything happens to you. Please do not do this, Ava.” He was pleading now, his tone conciliatory and agreeable, but she was having none of it.
“The address please.” The one thing that would definitely make Ava do something was when someone told her she couldn’t. It wasn’t one of her best personality traits, but it had helped her out on more than one occasion.
“I will not give you the address.” His cool refusal infuriated her and the thread of amusement she detected didn’t help matters. “But I will tell you, since you are a stubborn and determined American woman, the best way to get here will be to take Air Madagascar to Madagascar, then to take the Palm Cruise Line to Réunion. From Réunion, you go to Port Belle Chanteuse. Look for a large blue fishing boat. The owners name is Tanni. You must catch him before he leaves at two pm. He will bring you to Saruma and I will meet you when you arrive.”
“I don’t need you to meet me,” she said, mulishly.
“Oh, you need me. You just do not know it yet.”