He pushed himself into a sitting position. “I’m listening,” he said quietly.
“I dreamed about you, Arizona,” she said. “I dreamed when you would arrive and when you would leave. I dreamed that this trip was wrong, that you were leaving behind something very precious.”
Could everyone see the truth but him? he wondered. “A woman,” he admitted. “Her name is Chloe.”
“And?”
“And nothing. We were together for a while.” He ran his hands through his hair. “It’s so damn complicated. I love my life. I travel the world, I do what I want. No responsibilities, no ties. But she lives in this small town. Her family has owned her house for a hundred years. She belongs there.”
“Where do you belong?”
A simple question. The answer came instantly and with it a painful insight into the blackness of his heart. “Nowhere,” he said softly. He had never belonged. His father had abandoned him, his grandfather had dragged him from place to place, at times even forgetting about him. He didn’t dare risk caring about people or places because he knew he would soon be ripped away from them. All he knew was being left, so he’d learned early on to do the leaving first.
“Yes,” Nada told him. “But you are not that little boy anymore. You’re a strong and powerful man. You can choose to stay with her. You can choose to accept your destiny.”
She leaned forward and held out her hand, palm down. Without being told, he held out his hand, palm up. She placed something warm there. He tightened his fingers around the object without looking at it.
“See with me,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes and then he knew. Images flashed through his mind. Chloe, always Chloe. He saw them laughing together, talking. He saw himself teaching. He saw their three children playing together.
How could he have walked away without telling her how he felt about her? He loved her. He’d never loved anyone before, but she was everything he’d ever wanted. With her, he could risk putting down roots. She would never abandon him. Look at how she’d always cared for the people in her life. She was his perfect other half.
He rose to his feet. “I have to get back to her.”
“I know.” Nada stood. “The boat will be here shortly.” She gave a self-satisfied smile. “I arranged it last night.”
He kissed her smooth cheek. “When will we be back?” he asked.
“In two summers. But your father will have visited me before then. In fact, he might decide to stay here.”
Arizona laughed. “Great. Just be gentle with him. It’s been a long time.”
Nada’s smile faded. “I will not be taking your mother’s place.”
Arizona wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. “I know. But thank you for worrying about that.”
She patted his face, then swept out of the hut. Then she glanced back over her shoulder. The Cheshire-cat smile had returned. “Congratulations.”
He waved, thinking she meant on his upcoming marriage. Good news. At least with her blessing, he was reasonably confident Chloe would say yes. Maybe he hadn’t blown it completely.
But that wasn’t what she’d meant at all. When Arizona turned to pack the few things he’d taken out of his suitcase the previous night, he remembered the small object Nada had pressed in his hand. He uncurled his fingers. Instantly his throat tightened as wonder filled him.
The small stone statue was old, weather-worn and had probably been carved a thousand years before the birth of Christ. But he could still recognize the crude rendering of a woman. He rubbed his thumb over the round mound that was her belly and knew what else Nada had seen in her vision.
Her congratulations hadn’t been about his upcoming marriage, they had been because Chloe was pregnant.
* * *
THE OPERATOR WAS very apologetic, but she couldn’t seem to make the connection. Arizona thanked her, then slammed down the pay phone. He didn’t know what was going on. He’d never had trouble making a call from Guam to the States before. He had the oddest feeling that fate was conspiring against him speaking to Chloe before he could actually see her in person.
He glanced at his watch and swore. His plane would be boarding in less than fifteen minutes. He didn’t have time to keep trying a call that was obviously not going to go through. He closed his eyes and tried to think. Then it came to him. He sprinted across the terminal and raced up to a window.
“I need to send a telegram,” he said, and began frantically writing the message.
Thirty minutes later he was in his seat on the plane, refusing the offer of something to drink before they took off. From Guam he would fly to Hawaii with a five-hour layover, then on to San Francisco. This wasn’t the most direct way back, but it had been the best he could do on such short notice. At least Nada had arranged for the boat to return for him. Otherwise, he would have been stuck on the island an extra week.