About Three Authors

by Patti Roberts

  The restaurant was a cacophony of voices and music. Pretty lights shimmered and sparkled in fake, tropical palm fronds. The Beach Boys were singing “Surfin’ Safari”, and it was hard not to feel swept up in the merriment. It was contagious, and Mallory knew without a doubt that she would always remember this particular night whenever she heard the Beach Boys singing “Surfin’ Safari”.

  Philip walked up behind Mallory as her trim body twisted and turned animatedly while singing along to the song with her friend. He wrapped his bare arms tightly around her waist as the song came to an end, and rested his chin gently on her shoulder.

  “Hi, Susan. Nice to see you again,” he said to the girl who had been expertly holding onto a cocktail glass without spilling a drop while dancing with Mallory.

  “You too,” she replied, popping a wedge of pineapple, from the side of her Blue Hawaiian cocktail, into her mouth. She screwed up her face, then promptly spat the unsavoury piece of pineapple into a floral napkin which she’d snatched up off a nearby table. “Gross,” she said. “Don’t eat the pineapple. It’s horrid.” Susan was dressed in a blue, fringed sarong that was tied around her athletic middle while coconut halves covered the larger portion of her ample breasts.

  Philip nodded. “I shall take that on board.” He adjusted the hibiscus flower tucked behind Mallory’s ear. “We should probably think about making a move soon, sweetheart. It’s really blowing up a storm out there, and it looks like it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better,” he said, nodding his head towards the glass windows offering a view of the blizzard outside. Strings of white fairy lights suspended from the red fabric awning swung back and forth vigorously in the whistling wind as it gathered strength.

  “Please… Just a little longer. It’s so nice and warm in here… And we haven’t sung happy birthday yet,” she said, turning around in Philip’s embrace to face him. She looked up into his lovely green eyes from under her eyelashes, and smiled. The red bikini and grass skirt that she wore made it impossible for Philip to deny her anything. Actually, it was hard for Philip to deny her anything regardless of what she was or was not wearing. The simple fact was, Philip loved Mallory. His last thoughts at night, before falling asleep, were of Mallory. His first coherent thoughts, after the mists of night-time dreams had dispersed, were of Mallory. She was his moon and stars, the reason he smiled during the day, for no apparent reason.

  Shaking his head, he smiled at her, his hands moving up the curvature of her back, then, cradling her face, he leaned down and kissed her softly on each eyelid. “What you really mean is, they haven’t brought out the birthday cake yet.”

  She giggled, then stood on tiptoes, her hands stroking the side of his cheeks, marvelling at his handsome face, and then she kissed him on the lips. “You know me too well, Mr. Cooper,” she murmured.

  “And you know me too well, Mrs. Cooper,” he replied, kissing her tenderly on the lips.

  Mallory studied his face for a long moment. “Are you absolutely sure you’re not related to Bradley Cooper?” she asked, a crooked smile playing on her lips.

  “I’m absolutely sure,” he replied, kissing her on the tip of her nose.

  “For Pete’s sake, get a room, you two,” Susan quipped. She stirred her Blue Hawaiian cocktail briskly with a straw, an envious look on her face. “The two of you are just so bloody perfect, it’s annoying.”

  Mallory laughed. “Not that perfect, I can assure you. Mr. Cooper here snores like a jumbo jet and keeps me awake half the night.”

  “Nonsense,” Philip retorted. “I might keep you up all night, but it isn’t with my snoring.” He nuzzled Mallory’s neck playfully.

  “Oh, quiet you. And how would you know if you snored half the night? You sleep through the entire taking off and the landing,” Mallory said, giving Philip a gentle nudge with her elbow.

  “Oh, here’s the birthday girl now,” Philip said, as a pretty woman skipped toward them in strappy gold sandals and a matching, shimmering gold swimsuit, frangipani leis swinging loosely around her neck. Her long fair hair was braided with tropical flowers and cascaded down her back like a pretty bouquet.

  “Great birthday party, Sky,” Mallory and Susan said, both hugging the girl in a tight embrace.

  “It is, isn’t it?” she said, blowing loose strands of fair hair off her face while looking at her brother over Susan’s shoulder.

  “Careful you don’t break my little sister,” Philip said.

  Sky broke free from Mallory and Susan’s embrace, and walked into her brother’s open arms. “Nice legs,” she said, making fun of Philip’s lily white legs sticking out from his bright orange board shorts.

  Philip looked down at his legs and studied them for a moment with great interest. First one, then the other. “Yes. They are great legs, aren’t they?”

  “Don’t encourage him,” Mallory said. “He already spends too much time in the bathroom grooming himself in the mornings.”

  “Some things never change,” Sky said, looking around the brightly decorated room dotted with artificial banana trees and palm fronds. “He always used to hog the bathroom at home, too.” She raised her hand, beckoning a waiter. “I need another drink. Anyone else?”

  Philip took the empty glass out of Sky’s hand and placed it on a nearby table. “Just because you’re legal now doesn’t mean you should get plastered.”

  “I think that ship has sailed,” Susan murmured, earning her a friendly punch in the arm by Sky.

  “Chill, bro,” she laughed, whisking two cocktails off a serving tray as a waiter appeared by her side. “Here you go,” she said, holding out a pretty cocktail for Mallory.

  Mallory shook her head. “Not for me. I’ve had quite enough, and unlike you, dearest Sky, I do have to get up early in the morning.” The truth was, Mallory had been drinking orange juice since they had arrived. She’d teed it up with the barman, Zach - a handsome, movie star-like guy with dark hair who, in her opinion, was just way too good-looking to be straight. Not that that had stopped any of the single girls, and some who were not so single, from flirting with him every opportunity they got. Hearts were instantly shattered, though, when Zach leaned over the bar and kissed an equally hot looking waiter.

  “Mallory,” Sky sighed, “I love you, but has anyone ever told you that you’re just way too wise for a twenty-five-year-old?”

  “Stop picking on my beautiful wife,” Philip said, slipping a protective arm around Mallory’s shoulders.

  “Blah,” Sky retorted. “Here, you look like you need a top-up,” she said, handing Susan the pretty blue cocktail.

  “I do. Thank you, Sky,” Susan said, scanning the room for a suitable suitor now that Zach was definitely off the dessert menu.

  “Listen, sis, Mal and I have to bugga off soon. We’ve got a bit of a long drive, and this weather doesn’t look like it’s going to ease off.”

  Sky’s shoulders sank. “Nooo. You can’t… Please don’t go yet. Not until the cake comes out,” she moaned.

  “Okay. Not until after the cake, I promise, but then we are out of here.”

  “Okay. Thank you,” Sky said, dragging Susan off by the arm towards the bar, while blowing Philip and Mallory a kiss over her shoulder. “I want to introduce you to this yummy guy,” she whispered into Susan’s ear.

  By the time the candles on the cake had been blown out, wishes made, and happy birthday was sung, the snow was a thick crust on the ground outside.

  Philip helped Mallory into her coat, gloves and boots, then moving around the room, from one Hawaiian-clad group to another, they said their goodbyes. Kissing Sky on the cheek, Philip hugged her and told her once more to ease up on the drinking.

  “Oh shush, you,” she said, slapping him on the arm playfully. “I’m a big girl now. You just take care of you and your beautiful wifey. I love you, Mal,” Sky said, her words coming out just a little bit slurry as she hugged Mallory.

  “And I love you, Sky-Blue. Have a great night, but listen to your b
ig brother, okay? Don’t drink too much. I will call you tomorrow. And don’t forget, dinner at our place next week.”

  “I won’t forget. Now go home, both of you, before I lock the doors and make you stay until they throw us all out. Oh, wait,” Sky said, taking off two of her many leis, and hanging one around Mallory’s neck, then another around Philip’s. “I want you to have these to remember my birthday.”

  Mallory stroked the flowers hanging around her neck. “We won’t forget this night. It’s been wonderful,” Mallory said, kissing Sky on the cheek once more. “Dinner next week, okay?”

  “Okay. Go,” she said pushing them towards the door, “before it starts snowing again.”

  As soon as they pulled the door open and walked outside, a frigid blast of air sliced through them like thirsty razorblades. “Come here,” Philip said, lifting Mallory into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, giggling.

  “I’m going to carry you to the car,” he said, nodding his head towards the car on the opposite side of the street. “I can’t have you getting lost beneath all this snow.”

  “Is that another one of your dismal attempts at telling me that I’m short?” she asked through squinted eyelids.

  Philip stepped out onto the street. “Whatever gave you that idea, my love-”

  “Stop!” Mallory shouted just as a white car whizzed by, spraying them with rain and snow. “Turn your lights on, idiot!” she shouted at the back of the disappearing vehicle.

  “That was close,” Philip breathed.

  “Didn’t your mother teach you to look both ways?” Mallory asked, her heart still pumping in her chest as Philip, looked, then walked briskly across the street, and set her down at the passenger door.

  “I was too busy looking at my beautiful wife,” he said, quickly searching his pocket for the key. “Quick. In you get,” he said, his teeth chattering as he unlocked the door and held it open for her.

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” she replied, climbing into the car as he closed the door quickly behind her.

  The sleet and snow began to fall again. Much heavier this time, sideway sheets of icy rain and hail battered the windscreen, obscuring the view of the winding, tree-lined road.

  “That was a great party,” Philip said, squinting through the windscreen. Occasionally, other vehicles would overtake them on the road, and Philip would shake his head and mutter angrily, “If they don’t slow down, they’re going to kill someone…”

  Philip turned on the radio. The Beach boys were singing “Surfin’ Safari”. “What are the odds?” he said, smiling.

  Mallory smiled back. “One in a million.”

  It was their thing. He would say “what are the odds”, and she would reply “one in a million”.

  He had told her the story about the day he had first planned to ask her out, and how he believed his odds of her saying yes were one in a million, and the saying had stuck.

  The windscreen wipers slashed back and forth across the glass, barely making a difference against the angry storm.

  Mallory nodded, a guilty frown creasing her forehead. “We probably should have left earlier, like you said, before the storm got worse.” She reached forward, turning up the heater.

  “Not to worry. We will be home and tucked up in bed drinking hot chocolate before you know it.” He pulled on the steering wheel to take a sharp turn to the left, then the right, the tyres briefly losing their grip on the road.

  Mallory’s hand gripped the handle over the passenger door, and squeezed it tight. “I think you should pull over,” she said, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Wait until the storm passes.”

  “Fifteen minutes and we’ll be home,” he said reassuringly.

  Mallory took her eyes off the road to look at Philip, his eyes focused on the almost imperceptible road ahead. Flashes of lightning burst across the turbid night sky, spasmodically illuminating his rigid face. She loosened her grip on the handle and placed her other hand on Philip’s knee just as a car coming from the opposite direction rammed into the side of them, sending the car spinning across the road like a child’s spinning top. Another flash of brilliance streaked through the rolling black clouds.

  All at once, Mallory heard the screeching sound of metal on metal. She watched as Philip’s arm reached out protectively across her chest. In that instant, she saw undiluted panic contort Philips entire face.

  “I love you,” he mouthed, his voice snuffed out by exploding glass… then nothing but darkness - complete and utter darkness and the sensation that she was falling, or was she flying? She couldn’t be sure. She wanted to call out to Philip, but it was as though her voice had been snatched away, consumed by the cold blanket of darkness and confusion.

  Moments passed. She wasn’t sure how long, but when she opened her eyes again, everything was bright, and she had to shield her eyes with her hand. The rain and snow had stopped. Car headlights and an overhead street light bathed the road with an eerie white fog.

  A man’s voice was saying, “Concussion, possibly some internal bleeding, broken arm, punctured lung… Get some blankets and a collar, just to be safe.”

  Mallory scanned the bodies walking around her. “Philip,” she called.

  No answer.

  Panicked, she called louder. “PHILIP!” Where are you, Philip?”

  Someone was placing something around her neck and then began draping a blanket over her. “I’m fine,” she protested, pushing away the blanket and trying to sit up. “Where’s Philip? Is Philip okay?” Mallory blinked her eyes, trying to focus on the face looming above her. “Philip? Thank goodness. I was so worried that you’d been hurt.”

  “You’ll be okay, Mallory. Just promise me one thing,” he whispered, as a gentle snow began to fall again.

  “Of course. Anything… What is it?”

  “You still have to go on the diving holiday we planned, okay?”

  She shook her head, confused. “Of course we’ll still go,” she said, reaching up to stroke his face, then suddenly pulling her hand back as a sharp pain radiated up her right arm. “I think I might have hurt my arm. Can I still fly if I’ve got a broken arm?”

  Philip smiled. “You’ll be just fine, Mal. No matter what happens, I will always love you, you remember that, okay? And keep writing. I love your stories. I bet you’ll write a bestseller one day, and they’ll want to turn it into a movie. Make sure you get someone with spunk to play you, okay?” Philip traced a finger down the bridge of her nose. “I love you, Mrs. Cooper.”

  Someone was tucking another blanket around Mallory and she turned her head with difficulty to protest at the interruption. “Seriously, I’m okay…” She spotted the Hawaiian lei Sky had given her before she’d left the party laying on the ground beside her. The delicate flowers were still intact and perfect. They were lying in a glistening pool of… is that blood? Was it her blood? She reached for the lei with her fingers, then winced again at the sharp pain in her arm.

  The man reached for her arm and gently rested it on her chest. “I think it’s broken,” he said.

  “No it’s not,” Mallory snapped back. Stupid man, what do you know? “I want the lei,” she demanded through clenched teeth. “Give it to me.”

  “I think you should just rest. Try not to move. Another ambulance is on the way.”

  He picked up the lei and handed it to her. “Thank you.” Mallory grasped the lei in her hand as though it were a strand of her mother’s precious rosary beads. “Now, will you please help me up and take me to my husband. He was here just a minute ago…” Confused, Mallory’s eye’s darted to the left, then the right, but she couldn’t see Philip anywhere. It’s too dark, she told herself. “Has he gone to help the passengers in the other car? He is always helping other people… There was another car, wasn’t there?”

  “Yes. There was another car, but I’m afraid your husband-”

  Mallory held up her other hand, the left one, which thankfully didn’t hurt, to silence t
he man. “Please don’t say another word. I know you’re only trying to be nice, but I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I want to talk to my husband again,” she said, swatting away the man’s hand as he attempted to pull the blanket back up over her chest.

  Someone else kneeled down beside her; a woman this time. “I’m here to take care of you, hon. Do you know who you are? Can you move your legs?”

  “Of course I know who I bloody am,” she said in a frustrated tone, thrashing her legs on the ground to prove her point. “Oh, I’m missing a boot. That explains my cold foot. Have you seen my boot? They were brand new.”

  “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  “Mallory Cooper,” she replied, wincing again as she tried to lift her right arm. She turned her head away, fighting back tears of pain. “I’ve lost my boot…”

  Another ambulance pulled up, its flashing lights slicing through the darkness like the warning beams of a lighthouse.

  Mallory turned her head to one side as best she could and squinted. Farther along the road, two people huddled together were taking care of an injured man on the ground near an upturned wreck of a car. One whole side of the vehicle had been torn away - jagged, torn, and exposed metal like an open wound.

  Good heavens. That’s Philip’s car, our car. How the hell did we get out of that alive? She wondered. Her eyes opened wide and she smiled. “My boot,” she said eagerly, pointing at her missing boot with her left hand.

  The two men taking care of the injured man on the ground stood up, drawing Mallory’s attention away from her boot. One of the men was saying, “Loss of blood… head injuries… internal injuries… possible spinal injuries. No pulse… Too long… He’s gone… Nothing we can do, I’m afraid…” Her view was partially blocked by the ambulance officers, but she could see one of them lean down to pull a sheet up over the man’s face. It must be the guy from the other car. Poor man, Mallory thought, wondering if he had a wife and children waiting for him at home, and grateful that it wasn’t Philip.