“This week has been a dramatic break from normal life,” I say. “A true adventure.”
“Plus, nonstop relaxation,” he says.
“Oh yeah. Like a weeklong massage.”
“At least we didn’t get norovirus. My episode with the fire engine notwithstanding.”
“Some might argue missing the boat is worse.”
“I’m glad we missed it together,” he says softly. “There is no one I’d rather be stranded in the Caribbean with.”
My heart leaps.
Would he have said that if he didn’t feel the same tug I do? That desire to be together, if just fleetingly, one last time?
“You’re only saying that because I bought you that ‘Conch King’ shirt,” I say lightly, feeling out the moment.
“I think it was a fair exchange, since I provided you with your only ability to contact the outside world.”
“We made a good team.”
He smiles at me. “We did, didn’t we.”
There’s a wistfulness in his tone that makes me certain this time has meant something to him too.
“We should do something tonight to celebrate our achievements,” I say.
“Want to blow seven grand of my father’s money at the casino?”
“You realize it’s actual legal currency and not Monopoly money, right?”
“We could break into the water park and go on the slides,” he suggests.
“Except I don’t want to die tonight.”
“More conch?”
“Oh, of course. I thought that went without saying.Alwaysmore conch.”
“The problem is we’ve already done the greatest hits,” he says. “We dined. We snorkeled. We ballroom danced.”
“Iballroom danced,” I say. “You toppled over.”
“We aquacized,” he says.
“Iaquacized. You just looked at my boobs.”
He glances meaningfully at my swimsuit. “And what boobs they are.”
I prickle with awareness.
“We saw four minutes of show tunes,” I say. “Which was life-changing.”
“You duetted with Elvis.”
“Not to mention duetted with you.”
“Ah, yes,” he says with a satisfied grin. “Weslayedkaraoke.”
