Once Upon an Island

16

How could Percy stay away?

I’ll tell you how.

With ease.

A week passes. Then two.

Soon a month has come and gone.

Percy doesn’t call or text. And Arya doesn’t get over him. As the days get brighter and hotter, she wilts, like a flower in the heat.

Watching her lose her vibrancy makes me feel helpless and angry. If I ever see Declan Fox again I’d love to shove him off one of his cargo boats into shark-infested waters and then give him a piece of my mind.

Luckily I was never in love or even in like with him. My chicken pox theory was right. I barely think of him except to hurl insults at him for hurting my friend.

Well, sometimes I think about him, but only when I see an apricot, or a sailboat, or a coconut, or the stars, or…anyway, I shove those thoughts away as quickly as possible.

Over the past month I managed to re-decorate the guest bedroom with teal and coral highlights and rattan furniture. Then I moved on to getting sweaty and dirty planting a butterfly garden in the back.

Mostly, life is the same as it has always been.

Friends, work, renovations.

It’s the same, but completely different.

Arya spends all her time at the nature preserve, and when she’s with us she’s quiet and doesn’t respond to any of Renee’s ribbing about boobies.

Kate claims she’s forgotten about her plan to bag a billionaire, but she’s pre-occupied and often doesn’t show up to girls’ nights.

Renee is busy with work. One of the seniors at her firm had a paragliding accident, and she’s taken on his workload. She swears she’ll be getting another promotion any day.

Michael and I met for a few breakfasts and a lunch. A few days ago he was called back to England, although he promised to return as soon as possible.

I’m in my home office typing up an article on mangrove preservation when my cell rings.

It’s my mom.

“Isla, I’m glad you picked up.” My mom has her professor voice on, which means she means business. Usually this has something to do with remembering to have the cistern cleaned or checking the roof for hurricane season.

“Hey Mom. What’s up?” I smile and lean back in my desk chair.

“Do you remember my colleague, Doctor Racleaux from The University of Sheffield?”

I look up at the ceiling and shuffle through the dozens of researchers I’ve met over the years. I vaguely remember a short woman with orange hair who smelled of wet parchment paper.

“Yes? She studies Roman settlements in Britain?”

I think when I was nine or ten, we went on a tour with her of Vindolanda, an expansive Roman ruin in the English countryside.

“Precisely,” my mom says happily. “I have wonderful news. She called last night. She remembered that you’re a journalist with a more artistic bent than your father.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” I say.

“She asked that you come out and visit for two weeks. Do in-person interviews, et cetera, she wants her biography done.”

“Well…” My initial instinct is to say “thank you, but no thank you. I don’t write biographies.”

“All expenses paid, and a fair compensation.”

“I don’t think so. It’s not really my cup of tea, and besides—”

“You’ll stay at her country house near Vindolanda.”

I stop talking.

So does my mom.

“That’s too bad,” she finally says. “Doctor Racleaux is such a nice woman. She remembered you fondly and wanted a writer she could trust—”

“Did you say Vindolanda?” I ask.

“Yes. It’s in England, Isla. Don’t you remember?”

I remember. I definitely remember.

I also remember that Vindolanda is near Newcastle.

Newcastle is where Michael is from. And Declan. And more importantly, Newcastle is less than an hour from Percy’s country home. Where there are many, many birds. For all those avid bird watchers. Like Arya.

“Do you think Doctor Racleaux would mind if I brought a friend?”

“I don’t see why not.”

A happy smile spreads across my face.

Percy may not have come back to the island for Arya, but my hunch was right—within a month, everything would work out.

This is fate.

In less than a day it’s all set. Arya and I are heading to England. We’ll be staying for two weeks. I’ll be researching and writing. Arya will be birdwatching. And if I have my way, she’ll also “miraculously” run into Percy.