We'll Always Have the Island

Mr. Eric Stanley, his soon-to-be-bride Natasha, and a trusted travel agent Ms. West, sat in green velvet chairs around a glass table. They were in a downtown loft, in Chicago. Ms. West chewed a piece of nicotine gum, and tapped her pen against her pad. Her dyed, light brown, hair was in a bun. She wore a heavy off white a-line dress and heels. Mr. Stanley looked at her and began to say something but she cut him off.

“You need a place for your honeymoon, no?” she asked in a thick Asian accent. “I will be honest with you. I have one place that is good enough for one like you. That is what your managers say no,?”

“Yes, we want to be on our own island with our own hotel suite,” Natasha said.

“It is not possible,” she looked down at her pad. Then, she looked up at Eric. “But, for you, Mr. Stanley, we make it possible.”

She passed the pad to Mr. Stanley with the words ‘Amanpulo hotel, Philippines’ written across it and ‘will rent island for stay.’

“It is perfect!” he exclaimed. “Anything for my angel.”

Meanwhile back in Texas, singer and songwriter Claire Thompson had packed to get ready to leave on her next tour. It was back on the road, but this time overseas. She had a short a taxi ride, and then a long flight out to the Philippines. She would be playing on the main island of Luzon. She did not have a large budge but wanted to travel, so she booked a cheap flight and a very cheap stay at Casa Bel Inn for $12 a night. It included free Wi-Fi and had a bar. It was not highly rated, but it was a place to rest. Most of her money had gone towards the flight.

Eric and Natasha, soon to be newlyweds, were set to walk down the isle, inside a luxurious cathedral. Natasha was in the chamber with her bridesmaids, getting primped and pampered when she had a case of cold feet. She just could not go through with the wedding. It was something she had dreamed of her whole life, but Eric was not the right man. She was going to have to call of the wedding. She told the best man that she could not do it. She ran out into the evening air, got into the limo, and told the driver to take her home. Eric was devastated. He was crushed. Natasha had been his parent’s choice. She was supposed to be his good luck charm. He wanted to make his parents happy.

After the guests had their fill of the reception, that Eric insisted they still keep in full swing, the groom went to the airport anyway. He put his luggage into his private jet, and asked the pilot to take him to the island. He had paid for it, and he would use it. It was not going to waste. There would be no way to out of it now. Maybe some time in the sun, and swimming in the blue waters would wash away his sorrow.

Upon exiting the taxi in Baguio, Claire noticed it was quiet, despite being near the city. Unfortunately, when she arrived at the inn, she was told that she would have to wait in the bar, for they did not have her room ready yet. The parking lot looked old and outdated, so did the rest of the hotel. She went over to the bar and sat down. A television was broadcasting loudly. The news was coming in. Parts of Baguio were without water and everyone was trying to get it back working. Someone came back out to speak with Claire.

“We are so sorry, Miss. We made a mistake and cannot accommodate you. The water is not working. We are calling other places to take you but all are booked right now that have water working. There is only one other we did not try. We are trying to find you something right now, but it is off the main island and far. Please wait a little longer.” She scurried away and around a corner.

Claire sighed and asked a waiter for a glass of Coca-Cola. She pulled out her phone, and texted her manager. She told him that it looked like she might not get her room, they were having plumbing issues. A few minutes later the same young lady returned to tell Claire good news. They were going to put her on a small boat at Damortis Sea Port and she would have a room for the night with no charge, but that she would have to share a suite with someone else in the bridal suite at Amanpulo.

The singer thought it was strange, but it was a deal. It seemed better than sleeping in this Karaoke bar. She shook her head. In the back seat of the taxi she took her compact mirror out and refreshed her makeup. She was so tired. You could see it in her eyes. The green had lacked their luster. Her red hair lacked its shine. Even her lips seemed less glossy even with her new application of gloss. She closed her eyes.

“Miss, we are at the dock,” the driver said opening her door. Lights shown brightly. He led her to a boat. She got in where someone was waiting, and few others loaded her bags. The engine started, and the boat bounced up onto the waves. The dock grew smaller, as the starlight above got bigger.

Once they arrived at the small island, that was home to where she would be staying, her breath hitched in her throat. It was amazing. This was a far cry from the urban rectangle where she was going to lay her head. This was a full on resort. She saw it had several rooms, all of which looked dark except for two. One was obviously the main entrance, and the other looked to be a suite. She wheeled her luggage to the check in counter.

“Oh, you must be Mrs. Stanley. We were wondering when you would arrive,” said the night clerk in very good English. “Congratulations on your wedding. Your suite is right through these doors here, let me show you the way.” Her smile grew as she spoke.

Claire did not have time to stop to correct her. The small woman ran out to the other side of the counter, and put her arm around her. She yelled out “bags!” and two men ran out and grabbed the luggage. They carried it behind the two women. The clerk escorted Claire as if she were royalty. The woman spoke quickly as she escorted Claire through the hall.

“You are going to love it here. We will pamper you. You can get couple’s massages. You can order room service whenever you wish. We offer so many amenities. You and your husband can kite surf, dive, kayak, see the turtles. Don’t forget, we have yoga and meditation. You will love it. You can have fresh fruit and the finest dining. Oh, here you are my dear,” she stopped suddenly.

She knocked at the door. When Mr. Stanley opened the door, the clerk greeted him saying that his wife was finally there to see him. Then, she dashed away almost as quickly as she spoke. Claire stood wide eyed like a deer in spotlights. Mr. Stanley was in just a bathrobe and his boxers. Claire looked like she had just flown a day and eleven hours on a flight from Dallas to Baguio.

“You, most certainly are not my wife,” he said with a tone of amusement,”but I do like what I see.”

“If what you like is a dishrag that’s been drug through the dirty dishes and rung out to dry, then glad to be of service,” she sighed, “because that’s what I feel like right now. I’ve just traveled two days from Texas, I’m dead tired. I get to the main island, there’s no running water, and I just want to sleep.”

“Oh, I see. Someone must have made a deal with my men. Ah, aha. That’s good old Colten. He pulled one over on me I see.” He laughed.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about it.”

“He could have said that you could have had any one of the suites on the island. But no, it had to be this one, that way, if someone new came out as the clerk, they would not know who was coming just that someone was coming to the honeymoon suite. That someone would have to be my wife. I think he thought I would find out during the day, and catch the prank, but having you show up here at night like this, is just priceless.”

“Well, can I have one of the other suites, then?” Claire asked.

“I don’t see why not. Look, why don’t you meet me for breakfast. What is your name?”

“Claire.”

“I’m Eric.”

“Nice to meet you. Where are all the other people who were supposed to be here for this week or weekend?”

“Oh, them? They don’t exist. I paid to rent the island and resort for the entire week.” Then, Eric winked. “Goodnight, Claire. Nice to meet you too.”

The next morning over coffee, eggs, and toast, the two began to talk. They learned they had many common interests. However, they were also worlds apart. Eric was from the upper crust of society. While Claire was struggling to make it big in her career. Claire loved Eric’s long blond hair, his suits, his knowledge of philosophy. She loved so many things about him. Eric enjoyed things about Claire too like her love of music, how it made her feel alive inside, and how it became her self expression. Claire had to cancel her tour. It made her sad, but at the same time, she felt happier than she had ever been in a long time.

“Eric, I never felt like this about anyone,” she told him over dinner on the third night. “you are so interesting, so easy to talk to. I feel like I’ve known you for so long, and yet we’ve just met.”

“I know. I feel the same way.” he picked up her hand, and kissed it. This is what you called a whirlwind romance. It wasn’t meant to last forever. “I know we will be getting back to the real world soon. I wish this could last.”

“Me too,” the words sighed. “Eric, I know this sounds strange, but do you think you might want to do a long distance relationship with me when this ends?”

“I want you to move in with me,” he said the words hastily but before he could take back the words she told him she could not.

“There are things about me, you do not know. I need to keep making my music and sharing it with the world. I have to keep touring. That means we would be apart a lot of the time, you with your company, and me with my singing. I don’t know if I could live like that. My heart would ache when we were apart.”

“It is likewise with me. I have to travel a lot for business. I like to travel and see the world. I too feel like I would miss you when we’d be apart. I’d long for you too.” His hand covered hers on the table. “At least we’ll always have the island.”

That night was a night full of passion. Months later, Claire was touring and she released an album titled “The Island.” Inside the cover, was a picture of a baby girl. The words below read, ‘This album is dedicated to my baby girl named Maria Pasyon Thompson and her father Eric. We’ll always have the island.’