The Magic in Her Gift by Missy Martine

“Sara, what in the world are you wearing?”

Cringing at the sound of her mother’s voice, Sara rolled her eyes and glanced down at her jeans and T-shirt. “I’m sorry, Mother. I thought this was an informal lunch to talk about the wedding plans. I didn’t think it mattered what I wore.”

“You’re about to become Mrs. Bartle Everett III. Your days of informal dressing are over and you might as well start adjusting. Your future husband and his son are joining us for lunch. Don’t you want to make a good impression on them?”

“Bart and Michael are going to be here? Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?”

“Really, Sara, what did you expect? He doesn’t want you embarrassing him in front of his friends and colleagues. It’s only natural he’d want to oversee all the details of the wedding.”

Forty-four years old and divorced, Bart Everett was a wealthy corporate attorney with a thriving practice in downtown Atlanta. He needed a wife socially and professionally, and Sara’s prominent family made her an acceptable choice. She didn’t try to make herself believe it was a love match, she knew better. Sighing, Sara glanced at the luncheon buffet the caterer had set up and reached for one of the canapés.

“Don’t you dare eat that!”

Startled, she drew back her hand and glanced at her mother. “Why not? I’m hungry. I didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast this morning.”

“Because they’re not good for you. You have to start thinking about your weight, Sara. If you work at it, I think you could lose a couple of dress sizes before the wedding. I’m sure you don’t want to walk down the aisle in a tent dress. I’ll have the cook put together a salad for you after Bart gets here. He’ll be pleased to see you making the effort.”

“I’m sure he will be,” she muttered. Bart had never been shy about telling her that she needed to lose weight. At one hundred and sixty pounds, Sara considered herself chubby, not fat. Her five and a half foot frame was curvy and rounded, but not flabby. Add that to her brown eyes and long brown hair, and it didn’t equal a beautiful woman. Sometimes she wondered why he chose her from all the women he knew. She looked around at her mother’s palatial home and the answer became clear. But why am I marrying him? She snorted. Because you’re lonely and your mother wants you to. The sound of the doorbell pulled her thoughts back to the present.

“Bart, how good to see you.”

Sara watched as her mother raised her cheek for the obligatory kiss hello. He was nearly six feet tall, with blond hair and blue eyes and towered over her mother’s petite frame. Following closely on Bart’s heels was his fourteen-year-old son, Bartle Michael Everett IV. Michael was tall and thin, with a sour face to match his disposition. He’d made it very clear to Sara what he thought of her as a potential stepmother. Stifling a groan, she went to greet her future family.

“Good afternoon, darling.” Bart Everett eyed his fiancé up and down, a look of displeasure crossing his face and then bent to kiss her cheek. “You’re looking very informal today.”

“I’m sorry, Bart.” Sara crossed her arms over her stomach, unwilling to meet his gaze. “I ran errands for Mother this morning and didn’t have time to get home before lunch.” Damn, why am I apologizing? I haven’t done anything wrong.

“It’s all right, dear.” He patted her shoulder in a condescending manner. “As long as you don’t make a habit of it, there’s no harm.” He turned his attention to her mother. “Gwendolyn, I’m sure you remember my son, Michael.”

“Yes, dear boy. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Bart gripped his son’s shoulder and brought the boy forward. “Michael, be polite.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weller. It’s nice of you to invite me here.”

Sara snickered. “Maybe you should start calling her Grandma. That’s what she’ll be in just a couple of months.”

“I, uh, I don’t,” Gwendolyn stammered. “I don’t think that’s necessary. After all, the boy already has grandparents.”

Sara sighed. “I’m sorry, Mother. I was only joking.”

Bart cleared his throat. “Well, ladies, I think it’s time we had some lunch and talked about the wedding.”

“Of course, please come in. I’ve had the buffet set up adjacent to the kitchen. I thought we could fill our plates and take them out to the terrace.”

Sara followed everyone to the dining room and watched as Bart and Michael loaded their plates with canapés, fruits, vegetables and cheese. Before she could begin to do the same, her mother offered her a small bowl with salad greens. The look on her face told Sara she’d better not refuse. Grinding her teeth, she took the salad and walked out onto the terrace. The approving nod she received from Bart made her want to dump the dry lettuce on his head and drive to the nearest fast food restaurant.

“Well, ladies?” Her future husband smiled. “Shall we talk about the ceremony?”

Two hours later, Sara was ready to pull her hair out. She wasn’t sure why they’d even wanted her at their meeting. They promptly shot down every idea she suggested in favor of whatever her mother or Bart wanted. She’d been imagining her dream wedding for years and none of her dreams were going to come true.

“Thank you for the lovely lunch, Gwendolyn. I think we’ve made good headway on the plans for the wedding. Now, I’ll leave it in your capable hands to guide Sara in choosing the perfect wedding gown.” He leaned over and kissed Sara on the cheek. “Get some rest, my dear. You’re looking a bit tired today. My mother will be calling you soon so she can discuss the rehearsal dinner. Do try and be agreeable. She’s already got everything planned and really only needs you to agree to everything.”

“Of course, Bart. I’ll do whatever she wants. Are you coming over tonight?”

Bart glanced at his son and then took Sara by the arm and led her into the house. “No, I think we should maintain some distance until the wedding. You’re going to be very busy with the preparations and you should be concentrating on your diet and getting into shape. That way when we’re finally together after the ceremony it’ll be like a treat, a reward for all your hard work.”

Sara’s mouth dropped open in shock. He wanted her to think of sex with him as a reward. “Bart, who do you—”

“Bart,” Gwendolyn interrupted, “I’ll start getting together all the information you asked for today and get everything back to you by the middle of next week. I would appreciate you getting me the guest list from your mother as soon as possible. You can tell her I’ll be calling to set up a meeting to go over the seating arrangements.”

“That’ll be fine, Gwendolyn. I’ll have her get that list to you in the next couple of days.” Bart turned and looked out the patio door. “Come along, Michael. I promised your mother I would have you home in time for dinner.”

As Sara watched, Bart and Michael left without saying another word to her. Fuming, she turned to her mother. “I have to leave, too, Mother. I’ve got to set up my lesson plans for the next month.”

“Oh, for goodness sakes, Sara. Wouldn’t now be a good time to end that foolishness? The wedding is only a couple of months away and you won’t be continuing at that ridiculous job after you’re married. If you quit now you would have the whole month to concentrate on the wedding preparations.”

“I have no intention of quitting my job after we’re married. Why would you think that?” Sara taught kindergarten and it was the only thing in her life, besides her painting, that she truly enjoyed.

“Your social responsibilities will take up a great deal of time once you become Bart’s wife. You’ll have to be available for all types of functions involving his career and family.”

“I really don’t have time to discuss this right now, Mother. I’ve things I need to get done.” She kissed her mother on the cheek. “Thanks for lunch and for all your hard work on the wedding. I’ll talk to you later.” Without waiting for her mother to respond, Sara headed toward the front door, not stopping until she sat behind the steering wheel of her car. With a wicked grin, she pulled out her cell phone and punched in the number five on her speed dial. With any luck, she could have a pizza delivered just about the time she arrived home.

Smiling, Sara closed her lesson plan book and poured herself another glass of red wine. Relaxing back into the sofa cushions, she rested her feet beside the empty pizza box on the low coffee table and closed her eyes. A feeling of utter peace settled over her.

“Sarafina.”

Sara’s eyes flew open and her feet hit the floor when she thought she heard someone say her name. Slowly her gaze traveled around the small room, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. She glanced at the half-empty bottle of wine and giggled. “Guess I better lay off the good stuff if I’m gonna start hearing things.” Coming to her feet, she picked up the bottle and pizza box and carried them into her small kitchen.

“Sarafina!”

The wine bottle hit the floor, the burgundy red liquid spreading across the white linoleum. The voice was louder now, the tone demanding and urgent. Only one person had ever called her Sarafina. Sara slowly turned toward the living room and then gripped the back of a kitchen chair as the blood quickly drained from her face. “Grandmother?”

As Sara watched, her grandmother’s form began to materialize in her living room. The ghostly apparition smiled at her and then beckoned her closer. Swallowing hard, she released the chair and moved closer to the transparent figure.

“Sarafina, my child, you must listen closely because I don’t have much time.”

“Grandmother, where are you? What are you?” She reached out her hand and then stopped, unable to believe her own eyes.

“I’m still on my island, child, but not for much longer. I’m dying, Sarafina, and I wanted to say goodbye.”

“No,” Sara cried. “I don’t want you to die.” Tears fell silently down her cheeks.

“Everyone dies, that’s part of life. It’s not a bad thing, child, but I needed to tell you some things before I go. Will you sit down and listen to me?”

Nodding, Sara crossed to the sofa and sat, hugging her arms across her stomach in an attempt to calm herself. “What do you need to tell me?”

Her grandmother’s figure seemed to glide as she moved closer to the sofa where Sara sat in awe. “I love you, Sarafina, so very much. You’ve always been a joy and a blessing to me and I want to leave you something very special.”

“I don’t want anything special. I just want you. You’re the only good thing in my life. I won’t have anyone who really loves me if you leave,” she sobbed.

“That’s why I’m leaving you my gift, child. I’m leaving you my magic so you’ll have the ability to create your own happiness. Search your heart, Sarafina. Once I’m gone you can make your innermost desires a reality.” Her figure began to fade.

“Wait,” Sara cried as she jumped to her feet, “I don’t understand. Don’t go, please.”

“Trust in your heart, Sarafina, and don’t be afraid to go after your dreams. Anything you can imagine is possible. The magic is in your gift. Remember, I love you…”

Tears streamed down Sara’s face as her grandmother’s silhouette slowly faded away, her voice becoming just an echo. “Grandmother,” she cried and then ran over to the phone. Before she could begin to dial, a fierce pain formed in her chest. Dropping the phone, she fell to her knees, her arms wrapped tightly around her abdomen, and struggled to catch her breath. “Oh, God, what’s happening to me?” she gasped. A burning sensation began in her stomach and slowly spread outward. Terrified, she felt the heat spread up her chest and out into her arms. Blindly, she pushed toward the phone, wanting to call for help and then collapsed onto the floor when her burning legs failed to support her. “Please, I don’t want to die,” she begged as the fire spread up her cheeks and into her scalp. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more pain, blackness enveloped her.

Sara breathed a sigh of relief as the plane landed at Henderson International Airport. It had been a grueling thirty-four hours of travel, made even more arduous by her two traveling companions. She glanced toward the front of the plane and watched her mother and Bart trying to ignore one another. When they’d changed planes in Port Moresby, Air Niugini had put them on a Fokker One Hundred craft with only two-by-two seating. Sara had promptly announced she felt airsick and then hid her smile when neither her mother nor Bart had been willing to sit with her.

They were traveling to Caleya Island for a private memorial service and the reading of the will for Sara’s grandmother. Part of the Solomon Islands off the coast of New Guinea, Caleya and everything on it had belonged to Elizabeth Weller. It had been four weeks since she’d died, the same night her spirit visited Sara. Not wanting to face their doubts, Sara had kept silent about the events of that evening. She’d awakened the next day, still on the floor where she’d fallen, but with an inner calm she’d never felt before.

“Are you coming?” Bart snapped.

Sara looked up into his accusatory eyes and realized that everyone was getting ready to leave the plane. Quickly she grabbed her purse and stood. “Of course, I’m right behind you.” For a moment longer, he glared, his lips pressed into a thin, angry line and then turned without another word. Sighing, Sara hurried to catch up.

Sara grabbed her one bag off the conveyor and then stepped back while her mother pointed out which bags Bart was to claim. She couldn’t imagine what she’d packed that required four separate bags.

“Excuse me, Miss Danner?”

A hand on her shoulder preceded the man’s voice. Sara turned and gazed into moss-green, twinkling eyes that conveyed warmth, trust and a sense of home. He appeared to be in his late fifties with gray hair, a muscular frame and tanned, weathered skin. “Yes, I’m Sara Danner.”

He held out his hand. “Elias Jacobs, Miss. I’m the captain of the Magic Dreams.”

“What the hell is the Magic Dreams?” Bart grabbed Sara’s hand and yanked her away.

Sara pulled her arm from his grip angrily. “It’s a charter boat. He’s a friend of Grandmother’s. Didn’t you read the wire from her attorney? Elias is here to pick us up and take us to the island.”

“You’re absolutely correct, Miss. Is this all your luggage?”

“Yes, it’s everything.” Bart picked up two of the bags and nodded toward the rest. “Could you give me a hand with these? How long will it take to get there?”

“Certainly, sir.” Elias picked up the remaining bags and smiled. “It’ll take about an hour to drive to the coast and then another hour, give or take, to cruise to Caleya Island. My car’s right outside. Shall we get moving?” Without waiting for a response, Elias headed for the exit.

“Why the hell we had to come all the way here just to hear her will is beyond me. Eccentricity should be illegal. Her attorney must not be much if he couldn’t talk her out of these ridiculous conditions.” Bart continued to grumble as they followed the boat captain out of the airport.

“You didn’t have to come,” Sara reminded him.

“Right, I would have looked like an uncaring ass if I’d stayed home and let you and your mother make this trip alone.”

“He’s right, Sara. It wouldn’t be proper for us to travel to this part of the world alone.” Gwendolyn let her gaze wander back and forth, almost as if she were expecting some kind of trouble.

Sara shook her head sadly. “I’m glad we came. I haven’t seen Grandmother in over twenty years, not since the last time she came and visited us. I’ve never even been to her island. I’ve only seen pictures.”

“You haven’t missed anything. It’s just a small hunk of ground in the middle of the ocean. There’s nothing exciting about it. I couldn’t wait to leave there and I never wanted to visit it again.” Gwendolyn handed her carry-on bag to Elias for him to put it in the trunk.

Before she settled in the car, Sara turned to Elias. “Is Grandmother’s attorney already on the island?”

“No, Miss, I’ll be bringing him out early in the morning per your grandmother’s wishes.”

“Get in the car, Sara.” Bart held the door open, his tone clearly indicating his patience was gone.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t get your panties in a wad,” Sara mumbled. A small chuckle had her turning her head quickly. The amusement in Elias’s eyes told her he’d heard her softly spoken comment. She could feel her face flush in embarrassment.

“After you, Miss.” Elias held his arm out toward the open car door.

“Right.” Sara hurried over and slid into the back seat next to her mother, glancing over to see how well she was handling the trip. The poor woman was obviously exhausted. Gwendolyn Weller pinched the bridge of her nose and then rubbed her reddened eyes before running her shaking hand through her hair and sighing deeply. Sara felt a pang of sympathy as she wondered how she must feel losing her mother.

Elias got behind the wheel and turned to stare at the women in the back seat. “Is everyone settled and ready to get started?”

“Yes, we’re ready,” Bart growled. He’d chosen to sit in the front with Elias.

“Okay, then we’re off.” Elias pulled expertly out in traffic, heading toward the airport exit.

“Is anyone else coming to the memorial service?” Sara watched Elias’s eyes in the rear view mirror.

“No, Miss. It’s for family only.”

Gwendolyn gave a very unladylike snort. “Isn’t Karl going to be there? He certainly isn’t family as far as I’m concerned.”

“Who’s Karl?” Bart asked.

“No, Madame. Karl will be at the island tonight, but he’ll be gone by the morning.” Elias met Sara’s gaze in the mirror. “Karl was someone very important to your grandmother. You might say he’s the love of her life.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Gwendolyn argued. “If he’s the love of her life, why didn’t he ever marry her?” She was silent for a moment. “He must not be named in her will if he’s planning on leaving in the morning.” The satisfaction in her voice sent chills up Sara’s spine.

“Doesn’t really matter whether he’s named in the will or not.” Bart turned around in his seat. “If he’s been with her for some time he’d have the legal right to sue the estate as a domestic partner. He could be entitled to half of everything she owned.”

“Over my dead body,” Gwendolyn declared.

“Come on, guys, Elias already said he’d be gone by morning. Let’s not anticipate trouble. This is supposed to be our time to honor and remember Grandmother.” Sara placed her hand on her mother’s arm.

“That’s easy for you to say, Sara. I’m not letting that overblown lothario take my inheritance away.” Gwendolyn pulled her arm away and turned her gaze out the window.

“There will be time enough to worry about the will tomorrow. Let’s just get through this memorial so we can get back home. I’ve got several court cases coming up. I can’t afford to be here any longer than necessary.” Bart pulled out a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and covered his eyes.

Sara was about to argue when she caught the expression on Elias’s face. It was pretty clear what he thought of her companion’s compassion. She took a deep breath, laid her head back on the seat and closed her eyes.

“You can see the island now, Miss.”

Sara rushed to the front rail of the Magic Dreams to get her first look at Caleya Island. The blue green water hugged the uneven shoreline while the white capped waves crashed along the sandy beach. She smiled, tasting the salty air, her braided hair unraveling in the breeze as they neared the small boat dock.

“Doesn’t look like much,” Bart sniffed disdainfully.

Sara frowned at the dismal words from her fiancé. “I think it looks like paradise.”

Bart grunted and walked back over to sit next to Gwendolyn. “You should come away from the rail, Sara. If we come into the dock too fast it could jar the boat enough to send you into the water.”

“Shouldn’t one of us offer to help secure the boat?”

“Oh, do sit down, Sara.” Gwendolyn shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand. “Let the captain do it. It’s what he’s paid for.”

Narrowing her eyes, Sara ignored their advice and headed for the wheelhouse where Elias was piloting the boat. “What can I do to help?”

Elias smiled down at Sara and shook his head. “I’ve got everything covered, Miss Sara. Been coming in and out of this jetty for so long I could do it in my sleep.”

Sara frowned. “There must be something, I mean, you’re only one man.”

He grinned. “Well, if you’re sure you want to help.”

“I’m sure. What can I do?”

“As soon as we stop I’ll jump to the dock and you can throw me the ropes so I can anchor the boat.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Sara watched as the boat slowed and eased its way into the slim berth.

Elias came down and pointed to the ropes at the bow and stern of the boat. “Just toss them to me once I get in position.” He jumped down to the wooden pier and walked toward the front of the boat. He stood and watched while Sara pulled up the rope and tossed it out onto the dock. Quickly he grabbed it and attached it to a tall post and then repeated the procedure with her at the stern. After securing the boat, he attached a small gangplank and held Sara’s hand while she walked down. “I’ll be right back, Miss. I’m going to go get the rest of your party.”

Sara stood still for a moment and then walked out onto the soft sand. She turned her head at the sound of seagulls crying, their wings flapping in the breeze. Her lips curved into a smile at the sight of a huge turtle lumbering slowly across the beach, the waves washing over its hard shell.

“God, it’s hot.” Bart yanked off his jacket and opened several buttons on his shirt. “How did your mother stand living in this humid environment?”

“But it’s beautiful,” Sara cried. “Look at that crystal clear water and all this clean, white sand. Where, in the states, could you find a beach as beautiful as this?”

“This is a volcanic formed island, Miss Sara. That’s fine, white bleached coral sand you’re standing on.” Elias brought the first load of luggage off the boat.

“What else can you tell me about this area, Elias?”

“It’s a great place if you like skin diving. There are shallow and deep coral gardens giving you a world of color. We’ve got turtles, manta rays, octopi, eels and hell, even hammerhead sharks you can get a glimpse of.”

“I always wanted to go skin diving. Is it fun?” Sara couldn’t keep the childish enthusiasm out of her voice.

“Oh, yes, Miss. There’s nothing like feeling the ocean water and the air bubbles tickling against your skin. Just imagine pulling your body along the ocean floor by grabbing onto rocks and coral, or the feel of the fish brushing against your body as you swim. There are even wrecks from World War II in the near area you can dive on.”

“Absolutely not, Sara. I forbid it. It’s not safe for a novice like you.” Bart’s face had turned a nasty shade of red and he looked as if he might implode at any minute. “We’re here for the reading of the will and then we’re leaving day after tomorrow.”

“Mr. Jacobs, perhaps you could show us to the house so we can rest before time for dinner.” Gwendolyn frowned at her daughter. “We can discuss the island more in detail later. I’m exhausted and in need of a shower.”

Sara sighed. “Sorry, Mother. Captain Jacobs, if you’ll lead the way.”

“Of course, if you’ll follow me I’ll take you to the house and come back for the extra luggage.” Without another word, he took off across the sandy beach.