The Town Trip

Delia spotted Marcus leaning against the sleek black SUV, engrossed in his phone. As she approached, he straightened up, giving her a curt nod of acknowledgment. "Good morning," he greeted in a low rumble before opening the door for her. Delia couldn't help but notice the contrast in size between herself and the men of this island; Marcus, though tall and well built, still seemed smaller compared to Rafe's commanding stature. She chuckled inwardly, feeling like a garden gnome amidst these towering giants.

As Delia settled into the passenger seat, she studied Marcus’ profile. His buzz cut and tattoos peeking from under his shirt gave him a dangerous vibe but he had kind brown eyes, which contrasted against his appearance.

Breaking into her chain of thoughts Marcus asked, “Where to, Ms. Scott?" His voice gruff but respectful. "You may call me Delia, Marcus," she replied, prompting a grunt of approval from him. Delia requested they head to a phone store, and they set off down the winding island roads that did not look remotely treacherous as Rafe had alluded.

Marcus pointed out landmarks and places of interest along the way, and Delia marveled at the beauty of the island slowly revealing itself to her curious gaze.

“Marcus, can you tell me about the best beaches to visit on the island?" Delia's voice was laced with excitement as they wound their way along the scenic roads, the lush greenery and crystal-clear waters passing by in a blur of vibrant colors.

Marcus glanced at her with a knowing smile, his eyes reflecting the same enthusiasm for the island's natural beauty. "Of course," he replied, his voice carrying a sense of warmth. As they continued their journey, Marcus regaled Delia with tales of secluded coves, pristine white sands, and hidden gems nestled along the coastline.

When he mentioned Maha Beach and its abundance of sea turtles, Delia's eyes grew wide with excitement, already envisioning herself swimming alongside the majestic creatures. "That sounds amazing," she exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face.

As they approached the town, the scenery transitioned from winding coastal roads to bustling streets lined with quaint shops and colorful buildings. Marcus expertly navigated the vibrant thoroughfares, seamlessly weaving through the flow of pedestrians and vehicles.

Delia marveled at the lively energy of this little town. Amidst the hustle and bustle, Marcus remained focused, his hands steady on the wheel as he guided the SUV with practiced precision. As they neared their destination, Marcus slowed the vehicle to a stop in front of the town’s phone store. Before he could even put the car in park, Delia eagerly hopped out, thanking Marcus and heading inside to get a new phone.

*******

Once inside, she browsed through the array of options, her fingers grazing over the sleek surfaces as she assessed each model's features. Her eyes lit up when she came across the latest model of the iPhone, its pristine design and advanced capabilities captivating her attention.

However, her excitement quickly turned to shock as she glanced at the price tag, her eyebrows shooting up in disbelief at the exorbitant cost. It was almost double the usual cost!

A friendly sales associate approached Delia and explained the concept of "island inflation rates," attributing the higher prices to the logistical challenges of importing goods to the remote location.

Delia bit her lip, weighing the decision to splurge on the pricey phone, when she was currently unemployed and relying on her savings. Yet, she recognized the necessity of having a reliable device for job hunting, communication, and capturing memories of her new island life. Setting aside her qualms, she made the purchase, along with a new SIM card, and headed out the door, expressing her gratitude to the sales associate for the quick service.

Exiting the phone store, Delia wasted no time in powering up the device and composing a coded message to Riley, her fingertips flying across the screen as she relayed the news of her safe arrival and promised to reconnect soon. As the message sent, a wave of relief washed over her, knowing that Riley would be reassured by her words.

Delia missed her best friend more than anyone else in the world. Riley had been there for her through thick and thin, from the moment she had stumbled across Delia outside the Greyhound Station in Washington DC approximately five years ago.

Delia had been in a bad shape at that time, and Riley had swooped in like a guardian angel, taking her to the hospital and visiting her every single day until she fully recovered. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, one that had seen them through countless ups and downs.

Riley had even helped Delia secure a part-time job at a local bookstore, and together they had supported each other through college and then through their professional careers working at real estate investment firms. Despite their closeness, Riley had never pressed Delia about her past, understanding that some wounds ran too deep to be easily shared. Delia was grateful every day for Riley's friendship and hoped that she could come visit her at her new home.

Delia slipped her brand new phone into her bag and decided to take a leisurely stroll around the town and explore her new surroundings. She looked back at Marcus, intending to inform him of her plans, but he was engrossed in a deep phone conversation. Not wanting to interrupt, Delia shrugged it off, knowing she would only be gone for a short while.

As she wandered past the adorable shops filled with island handicrafts, the irresistible aroma of freshly baked goods wafted towards her, causing her stomach to growl in protest. Realizing she hadn't eaten anything that morning, Delia followed her nose to a nearby coffee shop, which appeared to double as a bar.

The doorbell chimed softly as she entered, greeted by the sight of a few patrons scattered throughout the cozy space, with most of them lounging on the deck overlooking the town beach.

Making her way to the counter, Delia noticed an elderly man busy wiping down the espresso machine.

“Good morning," Delia said with a smile. "It smells amazing in here." The man looked up returning her smile with a twinkle in his eye. "Morning, lass. Welcome to Phillip's Brew. I’m Phillip. What can I get for you today?"

Delia glanced at the menu board, considering her options. "I'll take two cappuccinos to go, please. And do you have any Quiche Lorraine?"

Phillip nodded, reaching for a notepad. "Coming right up. Two cappuccinos and a couple of slices of quiche. You're in luck, I just baked a fresh batch this morning."

Delia grinned. "Perfect."

As Phillip jotted down her order, he couldn't help but notice the spark of curiosity in Delia's green eyes. "New to the island, are you?" he asked casually.

Delia nodded. "Yeah, just arrived yesterday. Staying for a while to explore."

Phillip nodded knowingly while making her cappuccinos. "Ah, a fellow adventurer. Well, you've come to the right place. St. John has plenty of secrets waiting to be uncovered."

Delia raised an eyebrow, “Secrets, huh? Sounds intriguing."

Phillip chuckled, handing her the order. "You'll see what I mean soon enough."

Delia paid Phillip and took a sip from one of the cappuccino cups, taking in the warmth of the coffee shop and the gentle chatter around her. She turned to Phillip and curiously asked. "So, how long have you been living here?”

Phillip leaned back against the counter, a hint of nostalgia in his gaze. "Oh, I've been here since I was a lad. Back when this island was just a quiet fishing village."

Delia nodded, intrigued. "It sounds like it was a peaceful time."

Phillip sighed, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "It was indeed. But things have changed over the years and there are folks who are pushing towards making this a tourist hotspot."

Delia frowned, sensing the undercurrent of concern in Phillip's words. "Are you worried that will actually happen?"

Phillip nodded solemnly. "Aye, that's the fear, many of us are vehemently against it. We cherish the quiet, the simplicity of life here. We don't want to see it overrun by crowds and commercialization."

Delia's expression softened with understanding. "I can see why you'd want to preserve that. It's rare to find a place with such tranquility these days."

Phillip nodded, a grateful smile touching his lips. "Aye, that it is. But we'll fight to keep it that way, no matter what it takes."

Delia admired Phillip's determination, sensing the deep love he held for his home. It was clear that the island meant more to him than just a place to live—it was a part of who he was.

“What is your name, lass?” Phillip inquired. “Delia”, she responded.

“Well Delia, I am glad to make your acquaintance. Do you want to hear more stories about this island?” Delia eagerly nodded her head. She leaned forward on the counter, listening intently as Phillip spun his tales of the island's past, her interest captured by his colorful anecdotes.

“Sounds like this place has quite a history," she remarked, flashing him a warm smile.

Phillip chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, you have no idea, my dear. The stories I could tell you would fill a library!"

Delia laughed, enjoying the banter. "Well, I've got time. Lay it on me”.

Phillip leaned in conspiratorially. "Let me tell you a little secret, lass. This island may seem peaceful on the surface, but there are things lurking in the shadows that would make your hair stand on end."

Delia raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? Like what?" Phillip's expression turned cryptic. "Let's just say there are more than a few wolves in sheep's clothing around here."

Delia raised her eyebrows recalling the howl she thought heard last night. "Wolves, huh? Are you talking about the furry kind or the metaphorical ones?"

Phillip winked, his grin widening. "Why don't you stick around and find out for yourself, my dear? But be warned, not everything is as it seems on this island."

Delia chuckled, taking the hint. "Thanks for the heads up, Phillip. I'll keep my eyes peeled."

Right at that moment, the door burst open, and Marcus rushed in, his eyes scanning the room frantically until they landed on Delia. He breathed a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping in relief.

Delia was taken aback by Marcus's sudden entrance. "Marcus, what's wrong? Why are you so frantic?"

Marcus ran a hand through his hair, trying to school his worried expression. "I've been searching everywhere for you and I was afraid something had happened to you.”

Delia's eyes widened in realization as she glanced at the clock. She had been chatting with Phillip for over an hour! “Oh my, I didn't realize how long I'd been here. I'm sorry, Marcus."

Phillip observed the exchange with keen interest, noting the tension. He cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "Is everything alright, young ones?"

Marcus pulled out his phone and hastily typed a text message. He shot Phillip a quick, tense smile. “Everything's fine, Phillip. Just a little misunderstanding."

Delia handed the now cold cup of cappuccino and quiche to Marcus with a sheepish smile. Turning to Phillip, she said “I'll be back soon. Thanks for the coffee and the chat."

Phillip nodded, his eyes lingering on them. "No problem, lass. Take care now."

As Delia was ushered out of the coffee shop by Marcus, she waved goodbye to Phillip. He watched them go, wondering about Delia's connection to Marcus.