Northern Moonlight

by Anisa Claire West

  “Aren’t the trees a little much for you to carry on your own? You look like a strong fellow, but we’re talking about three trees here!” William called after him.

  “I don’t have actual trees, but seedlings. They’re Douglas firs. Do you think they’ll thrive here?”

  “Yes, absolutely. This is just the kind of environment a Douglas fir needs, with plenty of moisture and not an excessive amount of wind. You just give a holler if you need my assistance. I’ll be back in the office. Nice meeting you, Fireman.”

  “Very nice meeting you, Ranger.”

  The men went their separate ways, as Gio followed the trail back to the gravel parking lot at the forest’s edge. He was slightly winded after unloading the truck of a shovel, hoe, and the three seedlings. Carrying his tools in either hand and slinging the burlap sack of seedlings over his shoulder, he started on the trek back to where William had hand-picked the memorial site. Spotting the orange marker in the distance, Gio began to walk more quickly, eager to shovel into the earth and prepare a place for his trees.

  As Gio speared the earth with his shovel and broke ground, he thought of his parents and brother. Every inch of soil that he overturned represented the opportunity for growth. When the soil was ready, Gio reached into his pocket for a measuring tape and meticulously set the three locations apart so the Douglas firs would reach their optimal growth and not overlap.

  After he had completed the memorial plantings, Gio made one final pit stop. The post office was his last order of business before he could fly into the arms of Sabrina. As Gio stood by the drop box, he made sure the envelope was sealed tightly and then deposited the letter he had written to Bert Shanty. Recalling the promise he and Sabrina had made to keep the old man informed, Gio had battled his insomnia of late by writing the man a detailed letter that he knew would be appreciated. Content that he had done all he needed to before departing, Gio drove back to his loft to await the taxi that would take him to the airport.

  Sabrina relaxed on her plush beach towel. It was a classic day for sunbathing with the afternoon rays beamed bright and scorching on her bronzed skin. She turned over onto her stomach, unwittingly giving beachcombers an optimal view of her body, skimmed in a string bikini printed with tropical flowers. Sabrina reached out from her towel and threaded the hot sand between her fingers, comforted by the silky feel of it.

  Overhead, a small plane circled around in the pristine sky, making a startling amount of noise. Still shaken from the turbulent flight to Martinique, Sabrina removed her sunglasses, propped herself up on her elbows and looked to the heavens. The plane was writing a message in the sky, and Sabrina squinted in the sunlight to discern what the words were. In billowing white letters resembling clouds, the plane had written, “Will you marry me, Jacqueline?” Sabrina half-smiled, wondering who Jacqueline was and hoping that she appreciated such a spectacular marriage proposal. Inevitably, her thoughts meandered to Gio and the romantic surprises he had orchestrated early in their courtship.

  With a trembling sigh, Sabrina put her sunglasses back on and lay her cheek against the towel. Against her better judgment, Sabrina had begun checking off days on her calendar until she would be going home. As beautiful a place as Martinique was, without her loved ones it felt like a gilded cage. Still, she retained her professional decorum, having collaborated with Tom just that morning on assembling action shots of scuba divers and snorkelers for his article about water sports in the Caribbean. She had also photographed and sampled the unofficial national drink called petit punch, a tangy concoction of brown sugar crystals, rum, and lime. It was traditionally served before lunch and gulped in one shot. For the section on Creole cuisine, Tom and Sabrina had also researched the island’s golden rum as well as liqueur made from ginger and basil.

  Working in tandem with Sabrina had obviously piqued Tom’s attraction to her, but her heart was still in Gio’s possession even though he was thousands of miles away. The distance between them seemed purely illusory, as Sabrina lay in bed each night, swearing that she could smell his familiar masculine scent or hear the deep intonations of his voice. It was as though he were with her in waking hours and unconscious slumber. She simply could not escape the force of his impact on her. A few times, she had debated using the hotel’s telephone to reach him, but had firmly decided against it. She hoped that Cara and her parents had received her postcards by now, as she had also decided against calling them. She would be sorry if they were worried, but the separation from them had given her even more clarity about her feelings without the impediment of unsolicited opinions.

  The drone of Tom’s voice cut into Sabrina’s seaside reverie. “Hi there, beautiful. Mind if I join you?”

  Without waiting for a response, Tom set his towel down along side hers and lifted his tank top off, leaving him in a baggy pair of swimming trunks. His torso was smooth and hairless with the outline of a ribcage disturbingly prominent. Sabrina looked at him from behind her sunglasses, hoping he would perceive her desire to be quiet and alone.

  He was either completely oblivious or completely thick-skulled, as he said, “It’s nice to see you without a camera for once. A beautiful woman like you should be on the other side of the lens…your…er…boyfriend must love taking pictures of you.”

  Sabrina ignored the suggestive undertone of his words and evaded the question. “It’s nice to have some time to myself. I’ve been working since I arrived, so lounging on the beach feels like paradise.”

  Tom nodded in agreement. “Tell me about it. I’ve got writer’s cramp from all the notes I’ve been taking. It’s hard to keep up with you. You certainly have a very ambitious vision for this issue of the magazine. I feel like I’ve visited every nook and cranny of this island.”

  “Yes, that is the point, Tom.” Sabrina said impatiently. “Darlene didn’t send me here to sip umbrella drinks and build sandcastles. She gave me a whole summer to illustrate the majesty of this island. I have to produce as many quality photos as possible, or I’ll go back to the office looking like a failure.” Sabrina tried not to notice the insolent downward path Tom’s eyes were taking.

  “I suppose you’re right.” Tom looked up at the sky where the billowing marriage proposal had faded into the horizon. “Looks like we’ve already seen the best of the sun today. It won’t be too long until twilight time. Do you want to get a bite to eat for dinner? We could leave the resort grounds and take a ferry into town. I think the workaholic could use a little play.” Brazenly, he put a hand on her lower back just centimeters away from the fabric of her bikini bottom.

  Truly, what was wrong with this man? Sabrina could not comprehend why he didn’t accept the tactful hints she had been tossing his way ever since his terrifying accosting of her on the deserted beach. Now he had the nerve to touch her even after she had made it clear that she was in a relationship? If they were back at the office in Burlington, she would have a case against him for harassment. Thankfully, he was just a freelancer and she would likely not encounter him on assignment again, as the magazine was a revolving door for writers. Sabrina decided that this time she needed to be firm in her rejection.

  “Tom, I know we’re here as co-workers for the duration of this trip, but I am not much in the mood for company. Thank you for your dinner invitation, but I’ll have to decline. If you don’t mind, I’m going to head back to my bungalow for a little siesta. All this sunlight has made me drowsy.”

  Tom’s usually affable features darkened with the import of her rejection. He gave her a curt, artificial smile before snatching his towel off the sand and walking away without another word. His sudden departure made Sabrina feel as though she had spoken too harshly and somehow lost her tact, but she could not worry about a man’s ego right now. Tom was all but a stranger, and she did not feel she owed him any further explanation. Snatching up her own towel and packing her beach bag, Sabrina walked bare foot on the sand towards the blissfully private bungalow where respite awaited.

  Inside the bungalo
w, Sabrina showered vigorously, washing away the clumps of sand that had migrated to her bathing suit. She scrubbed the brine off of her skin, paying deliberate attention to her lower back, feeling an unpleasant chill run through her at the remembrance of Tom’s hand there. As brief as the touch had been, the feel of another man’s hands left her feeling slightly violated. Not bothering to style her hair, Sabrina let it air dry naturally into full, flowing waves. Even though the afternoon on the beach had stimulated her appetite, Sabrina did not want to leave the bungalow’s reliable shelter until morning. After that disconcerting exchange on the beach, she did not want to risk running into Tom and being forced to converse.

  She slipped into one of her teddies and settled with a book into the round bed. It was one of the paperback novels she had bought at the airport in France. Sabrina sighed, thinking how her life had been so hectic and tumultuous that she had no time to pursue leisure reading. Before she could finish one chapter, sleep prevailed and left her with the book laid open on her chest and the bedside lamp still illuminated.

  Chapter 20

  Footsteps pounded on the waving sand outside Sabrina’s bungalow, plucking her from a sound sleep. She jackknifed her body into an alert upright position in the center of the bed. The footsteps edged closer and then stopped just outside her door. Refusing to breathe, Sabrina sat erect in the bed listening avidly to the sounds outside her door. The night was deep, lit only by the pale light from her tiny bedside lamp.

  A soft knocking sounded at the door. Sabrina was immediately paralyzed with fear, her mind racing with nightmarish scenarios of how Tom had come back to seek vengeance for her rejection. Bravely, Sabrina threw back the covers and crept over to the door. There was no peep hole to see who the intruder was, and she was too afraid to go near one of the windows lest she be seen.

  Why didn’t I press to have that phone fixed? She rebuked herself, as the knocking became louder and more insistent. If she had a telephone, she could call the hotel security or even the police, but in this bungalow on a remote section of the beach, there was no one to help. She doubted that a scream would be heard if she could even get her fear-frozen vocal chords to work. Panic coursed through her as her limbs began to tremble and her skin dampened into a cold sweat. The knocking came once more and this time was accompanied by a questioning, “Sabrina?”

  It was a man’s voice, but it did not sound at all like Tom. If Sabrina were not completely delirious, she would have guessed that it was Gio. But that was impossible! It probably was Tom and she was hallucinating, hearing instead the voice of the man she wished with all her heart was there to protect her. Impulsively, Sabrina tiptoed over to the nightstand and grabbed the lamp, yanking the plug from the wall outlet in one violent motion. She crept back to the door and positioned herself behind it, fully intending to attack the intruder. Slowly, she pulled the door open. It creaked in the black stillness, and all she could see was the large shadow of a man, walking through the door. Sabrina raised the lamp and struck the man with a sharp blow that was meant for his head, but landed clumsily on his shoulder.

  “Ow! Sabrina, it’s me Gio!”

  Oh God! She wasn’t dreaming; that really was his voice and he was not an apparition before her, but was actually standing inside the bungalow. Letting her tears of relief, joy, and shock freely flow, she cried out, “Gio! What are you doing here? My God, I could have killed you just now.”

  “Not with that aim. You’re more dangerous to yourself than to anyone else.”

  The man had the nerve to mock her, and she did not even care. He looked her in the eyes for the first time since she had opened the door and visibly melted before her, his whole demeanor softening and his muscles relaxing. “Sabrina, I can’t believe we’re really in the same room. I’ve missed you so much.” He pulled a still dazed Sabrina into his arms as she held him against her, caressing the back of his neck and then recoiling when she felt a sticky fluid oozing from his shirt.

  “Gio, my God, you’re bleeding! I did this. I’m so sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry. I do have a tendency to barge in unannounced, and this is my punishment, I suppose. But it’s no punishment compared to being away from you for so long.” He roughly swooped down to capture her parted lips in a ferocious kiss that made them both feel deliciously off-kilter.

  Sabrina pulled away from him to say softly, “Gio, take off your shirt.”

  “You’re in a hurry, aren’t you…well so am I…” He said half-seriously, ripping off his blood-stained shirt and throwing it to the floor.

  “You know very well that I want to take care of this wound.” She scolded. “But I do want to do other things as well, so you might as well keep your shirt off…” Sabrina trailed off shyly, leaving Gio standing there bare-chested as she searched inside the bathroom for an emergency medical kit.

  “It’s just a slight gash…actually more of an abrasion.” Gio called after her as she returned promptly with rubbing alcohol, cotton swabs, and bandages. She paused in the middle of the room to survey him from head to toe, dreamily absorbing the precious sight of the man she loved.

  “I can’t believe you’re here. Gio…I don’t even know where to begin.” She said, gesturing for him to sit on the bed so she could clean and dress his wound.

  He sat on the bed, looking lovingly up at her as she cared for him. “Sabrina, I was a fool to walk out. You have no idea how I’ve been longing for you.”

  He reached up a hand to caress her long cascade of hair as she swiped the gash with alcohol, eliciting a controlled hiss of pain from him. Gio went on, “I’m sorry that I waited this long to come for you. I should have gone to the airport the day you left---not to stop you from coming here, but to tell you how much I need you and how I would be there waiting for you when you got back. Being with anyone else is unthinkable. I want you in my life, Sabrina, and this time, I want you there permanently.”

  Sabrina listened to his speech with delight and just the slightest sense of incompleteness. She still hadn’t heard the word ‘love’ escape his lips. But if the man had come all this distance to be with her and emptied the contents of his heart even while blood was dripping from his flesh, love was an inadequate word for what he felt. With that realization, she suppressed her need to hear him say ‘I love you.’

  Affixing the bandage onto his shoulder and taping it securely, Sabrina spoke the language this relationship had taught her. “Gio, I want to be in your life…permanently. I’ve been thinking about you since I got here, actually before I got here. On the plane, we encountered a severe amount of turbulence before landing and for a few moments, I thought that might be the end…”

  Gio’s brow furrowed with concern as he pulled her onto his lap. “If I had known you went through that, I would have been by your side immediately. Thank God that nothing happened.”

  “It would have been a terrible way for us to end things…trying to run away from each other and denying our feelings.”

  “Yes, Sabrina, I would have lived with a guilt complex for the rest of my life, as if I don’t have enough of one already for being the sole survivor.” Gio shook his head in despair.

  Sabrina passed a soothing hand over his forehead. “It would have been horrible, but the point is that I’m alive and you’re here with me now. We don’t need to dwell on what might have been.”

  “We don’t need to dwell on the past at all. I finally found a way to gain closure about my family. I realized that it wasn’t enough to have solved the arson mystery or even to identify the perpetrator. I needed to memorialize my parents and brother and that’s just what I did before flying here.” Gio spoke in a voice tinged with uncharacteristic optimism.

  “How did you memorialize them Gio?” Sabrina asked, intrigued.

  “I planted three trees in their honor. The trees stand on the same land that was brutalized by fire several months ago. The trees symbolize the progression of life.”

  Sabrina threw her arms around Gio and kissed him soundly. Between
kisses, she exclaimed, “Gio, that’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever told me!”

  He cocked one eyebrow up, “More beautiful than saying I want to spend the rest of my life with you?”

  “Both those sentiments go hand in hand. You couldn’t spend the rest of your life with me if you weren’t ready to move forward.”

  “I’m ready to move forward,” Gio said in a voice strangled by raw emotion.