“I have the feeling I do, but mostly, I’m thinking I don’t give a damn.”

Phil leaned back in his chair, inhaled and exhaled. “You will, I promise.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Tony replied, “Okay, my man, care to enlighten me?”

We all have time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Others take us forward, they're called dreams.

—Unknown

Claire made it to their suite before the nausea hit with a vengeance. Stumbling into the bathroom, she fell to her knees and her trembling hands held her head over the toilet. It was the first time since morning sickness that she’d vomited. Perspiration drenched her skin as she her meal projected into the water below. When she was done, Claire laid her head on her arms and waited. As if awoken by her violent lurches, her temples throbbed and her midsection contracted. Gaining strength, she made her way back out into the bedroom. If she lay down, Claire believed the discomfort would stop. After strategically placing the pillows of the bed around her, she hugged another. The fetal position seemed ironic, yet with another pillow between her legs, it was the only position that gave her solace.

The curtains billowed as a refreshing breeze moved the previously still air about their suite. Claire relished the coolness on her clammy skin and concentrated on her breathing. Officially, she was just a little past thirty-six weeks into her pregnancy. Everything she read said thirty-eight to forty weeks were considered full term. Although she was ready for the pregnancy to be done, Claire didn’t want their baby born too early. Unexpectantly, she flinched as thunder rattled the windows. She looked around the suite bathed in the early evening light and listened to the low howl of the growing wind. Suddenly, the room filled with a flash of light.

As she inhaled and exhaled, Claire counted. It was a trick her grandmother taught her as a child. When she saw the lightening, she’d count until she heard the thunder. Grandma said the number between events was the distance in miles from where the lightning struck. Claire knew from meteorology it wasn’t accurate; nevertheless, it was a ritual that gave her comfort. Although her head still ached, her midsection had relaxed. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the knock on her door until it was repeated.

She answered, “Come in.”

Claire saw the concern in Madeline’s eyes. “Madame el, you are in pain?”

“No,” she lied and did her best to smile. “I’m having trouble eating. I’m hungry, but I fill too fast, and then I’m uncomfortable.” As she spoke, her back suddenly tightened, sending a jolt of pain down her right leg. She didn’t mean to wince, but she did.

Madeline sat on the edge of the bed and waited. When Claire’s expression softened, Madeline gently took her hand. “Madame el, you are warm. Please tell me about your pain.”

Salty tears stung Claire’s eyes. “It’s in my back. It’s been getting worse all day.”

“It could be infection. I remember it happens often in late pregnancy. Perhaps Francis could take you to the doctor. If you go now, there’ll be enough light. I worry about the storm. They say it is big.”

Claire closed her eyes and waited. Another jab tightened her back, stronger than the one before. When she opened them again, she nodded as the tears escaped down her cheeks. “It might be. That makes sense. I read about bladder infections. Besides, I don’t think it’s labor. First, it’s too early.”

“Oh”—Madeline chuckled—“babies don’t have calendars.”

Claire grinned. “Well, second, I’m not feeling it in my stomach. I just feel nauseous. The pain’s in my back.”

“Although I’ve helped bring many babies into this world, the doctor is the best place for you. Sometimes things in real life aren’t like they are in the books.”

Claire considered telling Madeline she’d read it online—not in a book—but the pain returned. It felt like being stabbed, quick, sharp, and intense! She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut. Through gritted teeth she asked, “Can they bring the doctor here? We can call; maybe they can fly Dr. Gilbert to us?”

“Normally, oui.” Madeline walked to the doors to the lanai. Her hair blew away from her face, and her dress flowed backward. “No pilot will fly a plane or a helicopter with this wind.”

Regaining her ability to speak, Claire replied, “I don’t think I can handle the bouncing of the boat, if the waves are big.” The dim room flashed bright then back to dark. Claire watched as Madeline pulled the doors shut. “Oh, the breeze felt so good.”

“It’s time to turn on the air conditioning. You need to be comfortable.”

Despite her affection of the open house, Claire agreed. Droplets of sweat rolled down her back and front. Her breasts were damp with perspiration, and she knew her hair was stuck to her skin. “All right. It might help me sleep.” Again the thunder rattled the windows. “It’s still far away.”

“Madame el?”

“The storm—it’s still far away. It took a long time for the thunder to reach the lightening.”

Madeline patted her hand. “I’ll go turn on the cool air and bring you some water. I have an island remedy that may help—if the pain is infection.”

Claire’s eyes widened.

“No, Madame el, it’s natural. It will not hurt the bebe.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Do you want Monsieur Rawlings?”

Closing her eyes to a momentary relief in the pain, Claire answered, “No, I’m feeling better. He and Phil can talk while I sleep.”

After Madeline left, darkness prevailed. Their normally open suite was now enclosed; its only source of illumination was the remnants of a clouded twilight penetrating the panes of the windows. Claire rearranged the pillows. With pressure in just the right area of her back, she found relief from the stabbing.

When Madeline returned, Claire drank the remedy she provided, all the while praying it would stay down. When alone again, she settled into her nest of pillows. Another flash of lightening brightened the room and she began to drift away...

Light filled their suite as Claire awoke. The morning noises greeted her as she looked out beyond the open doors to the beautiful blue water. Her arms reached out, stretching to relieve the stiffness of a long sleep. She felt more rested than she had in weeks or months. A full night’s sleep and the pain was gone. Lifting the soft sheet, Claire marveled at her own movements. It had been so long since she’d been capable of changing positions without concentration and effort.

On her left hand, the sparkling wedding band caught her eye. It was truly as spectacular as the first. As her bare feet touched the tile of the bathroom floor, Claire looked up to her reflection and the air left her lungs. Her hands immediately moved to her flattened midsection as panic boiled from within.

Unable to refrain, Claire fell to her knees and screamed Tony’s name. She yelled until the sobs within her chest wouldn’t allow her to articulate any longer. With her cheek against the cool tile, Claire heard the door to their suite open. “What happened? Where’s our baby?” The questions formed and started to flow until her eyes met gray.

It wasn’t Tony who’d entered the room—it was Catherine. Her gray eyes no longer appeared comforting; instead, Claire saw vengeance. She scrambled to her knees and tried to shut the door between the bedroom and bathroom. Catherine was quicker. Claire pushed the door with all her might, yet she was weak. When Catherine came around the door, Claire asked, “Why? Why are you here?”

Her voice cracked like an old vinyl album. “I own this island. It was bought with my money. Why wouldn’t I be here?”