Til Death Do Us Part

45

TWO YEARS LATER

“Good morning, Anna.” The bright, cheery voice of Barbara, the mail woman as she passes me in the street, brightens my morning.

“Morning.” I’m practically skipping today. Wearing a new cornflour blue summer dress on the hottest day of the season so far and in a blindingly happy mood. Nothing could dampen my spirits today since I woke up from a scarce night of no nightmares and felt incredibly refreshed for once. It’s funny how that alone can change my entire day.

The village is bustling, bright, and early, with most fishing crews already coming in to offload, and the harbor is chaotic with activity. It’s eight am, and yet life here starts at four.

“Anna!!!” I’m hit from behind with a small, soft bundle of speed, colliding with my rear and wrapping little arms around my thighs that sends me skipping forward to stop myself from falling over. Waving my arms around for balance, and yet the smile spreads across my face and warms me all over. It’s no guessing who just steamrollered me.

“Sadie, good morning.” I turn and pat her on the top of her little blonde head, used to this assault, getting her leg hugs before she releases me, and I can turn and squat down. She’s the shortest seven-year-old in the village, and despite her chaotic energy, I adore her. She greets me daily, and we often have playdates on the weekends when I’m not busy. Last Saturday, we made cookies in the Tarry shack kitchen, and Greta had to taste test every flavor.

“Look, look….. another fell out.” She proudly holds out her little hand, stretched flat, and shows me the blood-crusted tooth she is beaming over. It's a solid chunk of white enamel, and it’s so typical of her not even washing it. I grimace inwardly but hide it well.

“Wow…. it’s a big one.” I avoid touching it and pretend to admire it from all angles. “You did good, and the tooth fairy will surely reward such a healthy incisor.”

“I’m giving it to you. You said teeth were precious and magical, and you’re my favouritest person, so you can have it.” Her toothy little grin and baby way of talking melt my heart, yet I’m reluctant to accept. Recoiling but trying not to hurt her feelings.

“Oh no, you can’t do that. A poor little fairy won’t be able to fuel her magic for the foreseeable future. How will she fly? I can’t be selfish as much as I want to. We should let the fairy have it.” I frown dramatically and pout my lips as I nod at her with sad eyes, and she looks distraught for a second. Thinking it over and nods cutely.

“I guess.” She sadly pokes at it with her pointer finger and then jumps with a flinch when her mother hollers her name from the direction of the school bus stop. Seemingly annoyed by the tone, I check my watch and realize she’s late.

“I need to go. Mom’s calling.” She takes off without a goodbye, bursting off at speed, taking her tooth with her, and I smile and slowly stand to wave her off. That whirlwind disaster is probably still my favorite person on this island.

“Tell her I said good morning,” I yell after her and watch her disappear between two men carrying crates from the pier.

“That kid’s crazy.” A voice behind me makes me turn and giggle, met with the wrinkly little old face who likes to watch the boats come in.

“Morning, Albert. She’s perfect for this village, though.” I raise a brow, pat his shoulder with affection, and continue my walk to the bakery. These interactions are my regular daily routine and always help ground me.

I get a dozen good mornings on the way. Everyone in bright spirits returned smiles and well wishes, full of the joys of summer. Twirling my now waist-length hair with one hand and waving at passing faces. I love this refreshing morning trip before the Tarry Shack starts serving breakfast to the first boat of the day. We get the hobby fisherman who come in to take lessons and love a good eight-thirty fry up before they take to the sea on Phil’s big Bertha boat.

“Morning, what’s it now?” Amber, the bakery girl, meets me with a grin as I stroll in and lean on the counter to survey the goods. It’s my second trip since we opened at seven am because Greta demands we stock up. Today we have three tour boats docking for lunch. The one which circles seal island, the coast to coast tours, and the whale watching vessel. Every time we hear of a new sightseeing business, we make contact and offer them discounts to dock here. It took me months to get the tour operator to put us on the map as a stop, and it’s starting to pay off.

“More rolls. Greta reckons all the incomers will go through a ton as we have soup on the menu today. She underestimated apparently.” I sway from side to side as I wait on her filling me up a couple of crates with the freshly made and divine smelling baked goods, and I turn and rest against the counter with my tail bone to watch everyone outside. Unloading crab and prawns and all manner of fish while weighing as they go. It’s never-ending.

“See Tom’s back from his three weeks offshore…. have you agreed to a date yet?” Amber prods me in the shoulder, and I bat her away. Shaking my head and frown at the fact that everyone always seems to push me his way. He hasn’t even asked me out because I make sure to dodge any conversations with him.

Tom’s a nice guy. Solid, stable, family orientated, and sweet. A twenty-nine-year-old, Six-foot hulk of muscle and handsome ruggedness, but I’m not interested in dating or love. My heart isn’t ready to be opened, and as much as I’ve come a long way these past two years, I have my scars and my memories. I still have my dreams which never let me go, even for a second.

“You look pretty today. Blue’s your color.” The voice coming from my right makes me tilt my head to see Amber’s mother coming in from the kitchen access. Smiling at me in all her softness and I turn and smile back. Glad of the interruption to Amber and her annoying Tom interrogations.