As we walked along the white sandy beach on the last day of our honeymoon, hand in hand, I reflected on my life. Although not yet thirty, I felt considerably older. I'd been through a lot within a short time—both Mike and I had. None of that seemed to matter anymore. Although I'd always tried to have an upbeat attitude where my life was concerned, I now looked forward to the rest of it with a renewed sort of anticipation.
The beach was private, and Mike had hinted that he had a surprise for me. I noticed an umbrella set up in the sand, along with a cooler beside it and blanket underneath. He walked purposefully toward it while I followed.
"What's this?" I asked.
"I ordered us a picnic lunch," he said. "I arranged it through the hotel yesterday."
I grinned. "You do think of everything, husband. This is perfect."
The entire honeymoon had been perfect, in fact. We'd slept in late, gone on a couple of excursions, been on the Pearl Harbor cruise, and attended a luau. I still smiled when I thought of the hula dancer who had picked Mike out of the audience to dance with her.
The ocean view from this particular spot was breathtaking, which is probably why Mike had chosen it. I could sit for hours watching the shimmering blue water with the foam skimming the top of it. The pleasant smell of hibiscus teased my nostrils as palm trees swayed softly in the warm breeze.
"I wish we could stay here forever," I sighed.
He reached for my hand and brought it to his lips. "Me too. It's beautiful here, isn't it? But that doesn't matter. We'll have paradise wherever we go, just you and me." He reached into the cooler and brought out a bottle of Pinot and some plastic stemware. There was also a platter of fruit, bread and cheeses, and what looked like seaweed. He poured a glass half full of wine and handed it to me. "You, me, and someday a houseful of kids."
I hoped I was already pregnant but wouldn't know for a while yet. "I want that so much. I even enjoyed taking care of Josie's."
Mike narrowed his eyes. "Our kids won't be like that."
Famous last words. "Yeah, right," I mocked. "Ours will be perfect, I'm sure."
"Of course they will. So, do we have a long layover on the flight this evening?" Mike asked. "I changed the reservations so many times last week that I can't remember."
I reached into my canvas bag for my phone. "Shoot. I must have left my cell in the rental car."
He gave me a wicked grin. "It's probably my fault. I've managed to distract you quite nicely on this trip. Not that you seemed to mind much."
I laughed. "You are so bad."
"Thank you, Mrs. Donovan. By the way, I do love saying that name."
My lower lip trembled. "And I love hearing it. For a while I never thought that would happen."
He gazed out at the ocean. "I don't know. Something deep down inside told me that someday I would get you back. Even after you married Colin, I never completely lost hope. It was what kept me going all those years."
I wrapped my arms around his neck, and Mike turned his head so he could kiss me. "I know something about that too."
We were silent as we sat there and continued to watch the sky streaked with sunlight and listen to the sounds of the waves hitting the shore. Reluctantly, I released him so that I could rummage through my bag again. I found our itinerary crumpled up inside one of the pockets and studied it for a minute. "Let's see. A two-hour layover in Seattle for the first change and then one hour in Detroit for the next. Not too bad. It's a good thing we checked out already because we won't have much time to get to the airport when we're done here."
"Damn." He grinned at me like a little boy with a secret. "And I had more plans for you."
"You never quit, do you?" I put the paper back inside my bag, and my fingers connected with something. I drew the object out and sucked in a breath. "Uh-oh."
"What's wrong?" Mike asked.
I held up the plastic bag for him to see. There were two smashed fortune cookies inside. "My father asked me to bring these to the house the night before the wedding. With everything going on, I forgot about them. They've been buried in my bag all week."
There was a trash receptacle nearby, and I rose to my feet. "Let me get rid of these."
"Hang on a second." Mike grabbed my arm. "Let's see what they have to say."
"Come on," I implored. "Let's not start this again."
He pinned me with his direct gaze. "Sal, the first thing you have to do is stop worrying about these cookies."
"So it's better that I throw them out."
"No, it isn't," Mike insisted.
I didn't want this to turn into an argument. Our trip had been so perfect. "Are you suggesting we read them?"
"Come here," he said and patted the spot on the blanket beside him.
I sighed but did as he said. Mike immediately placed an arm around my shoulders. "Even if there was something to these cookies—and I'm not saying there is—it won't do any good to keep avoiding them. Didn't we say we needed to tackle our fears head on?"
"Well, yes, but…"
"If you're going to keep serving these cookies at the bakery," Mike continued, "and I'm guessing you will because they're so popular—you need to deal with this. Don't be afraid of what they might say. Learn to embrace them instead."
I raised an eyebrow at my husband. "Embrace fortunes that tell me to stay in the house or that revenge can be sweet?"
He grinned. "Well, not exactly. What I'm trying to say is that you can't let them run—or ruin—your life. There's an old saying. 'Worrying doesn't stop the bad things from happening. It just keeps you from enjoying the good.'" He wove his fingers through my hair. "And I don't want to waste a minute of our life together worrying about something that might never occur. Anything that happens, we'll tackle together. Okay?"
I looked into his rugged handsome face and for about the millionth time this week, couldn't fathom how lucky I was. "Okay," I whispered. "I'll try. When did you get so wise, by the way? You sound like my grandmother."
"Don't I wish," Mike admitted. "If I had one tenth of the wisdom that woman has, I'd be satisfied forever."
I handed him the plastic bag. "Here you go."
He barked with laughter. "So I have to read one too?"
"Of course. We're a team," I reminded him.
Mike removed a cookie from the bag and pulled the fortune strip from it. A shadow passed across his face as he read the message, and he didn't smile. "Hmm. Interesting."
Despite the warm temperatures, a chill ran through me. "It doesn't say anything about the airplane crashing tonight, does it?"
Mike looked at me in disbelief. "No, darling. It simply says Don't let people from your past haunt your future."
That was odd. Nevertheless, I squeezed his hand reassuringly. "I'm sorry. I know that you don't like talking about your childhood. It was hell for you."
He leaned his head on my shoulder. "Someday we'll talk about it. But not today. I won't let anything spoil the rest of my honeymoon with my beautiful bride. Plus, I've learned to live with it. So there's no way that could ever affect our life together." Mike waved the bag gaily at me. "Your turn."
Ugh. I sighed and removed the other cookie then glanced down at the strip. Mike leaned over my shoulder as we read the words silently together.
The sure way to predict the future is to invent it.
I raised an eyebrow at Mike. "So, according to this message, I am the one in charge of my future, so there's nothing to worry about, right?"
Mike laughed and removed both the strip of paper and cookie from my hand, rose to his feet, and tossed them into the nearby receptacle. "There's no reason for us to worry anymore. We're young, in love, and happy. No one can ever take that away from us. There's nothing else in this life that I want except to have a family and be a good husband to you. The rest will work itself out. Okay?"
I smiled up at him in adoration. To heck with the cookies. My fortune was standing right in front of me. "Whatever you say, my love."
He reached for my hand and helped me to my feet. "Come on. We've got a life to go live."