Chapter 10- Just emotions taking me over

Tessa thought as she sat at the kitchen table cutting out the silk that she had chosen for the dress. What was the point in doing this anyway? It had been two weeks since her parents had gone missing, and in that time they had all felt miserable. Especially Tess and the three sisters. Tessa didn't know what to make of anything and, unless it were to comfort one of her sisters she rarely spoke. Zoë was growing rebellious and grew into the habit of talking back to her elders. Only poor little Sophie understood nothing, and cried for her mother often. It was true though that Tessa and Zoë were guilty of crying for their mother, but it occurred at night when only each other could hear. Despite all of this hope still burned somewhere deep inside of Tessa's heart. Suddenly she heard yelling coming from the other room.

'Oh no, she's doing it again!' Tessa's mind screamed as she threw down her sewing and ran into the living room.

………………..

"You're not my father, you can't tell me what to do!" Zoë screamed as she ran up the stairs.

"I'm so sorry Uncle Adam." Tessa apologized.

"I know. It's okay." He sighed.

"No it's not. Zoë's a 'Daddy's girl,' after all. She's very sensitive about this. Maybe it should just be me who tells her what to do from now on."

"I think you're right. She'll listen to you."

Tessa got up and made her way towards the stairs.

"Uncle Adam?" She asked once she got there.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think they'll ever come back?"

"Yeah. They'll be just fine."

Satisfied with his answer Tessa headed up the stairs. Still she wondered when peace would return to their house. The twin's door was shut, as they, who had no worries, were peacefully asleep. On the contrary, Sophie's door was wide open and as she walked by she saw Aunt Gloria reading to her in the rocking chair. Once she reached the room that she shared with Zoë she turned the doorknob very carefully. The door squeaked as it opened and when Tessa looked inside she expected to see her sister lying on her bed, but instead she was greeted by a lonely, empty room, the window was left wide open.

………………..

"Andrew, what day is it?" Monica asked as she lay on her husband's chest snacking on a bowl (made from a coconut), of grapes.

"That's a good question." He said, stroking her hair.

"I think its Sunday, Sunday the 26th."

"The 26th! Oh Andrew, we were supposed to be home two weeks ago! Oh my poor little girls, they must be so afraid!"

"Calm down Monica. Gloria and Adam must be home by now. Meanwhile, why hasn't anybody come and looked for us?"

"Because maybe they can't find us."

"Maybe. Do you think that we should pray for help? I mean we've prayed everyday, but we haven't prayed for someone to find us."

"Okay, but not just yet." He said, tightening his grip on her.

"Why?"

"Because I haven't had a vacation that lasted this long in three hundred years. Three hundred years Monica! I didn't even know you three hundred years ago! I really just want to have a little more time with you, alright?"

"Alright." She said, as he kissed the top of her head.

"Now, what is there to do with the rest of the day?"

"What ever we want."

"That's the spirit!"

"Andrew?"

"Yeah."

"Do you miss the girls?"

"Of course. But, when I have my beautiful wife here all to myself, I must admit that it's hard to think of anything else."

"How can you think of just yourself Andrew!" She demanded as she got up and rushed away from him. Andrew sighed and glanced heavenward.

Monica was mad. How could he not think of the girls? Especially in a time such as that! When they were alone, and had no idea what happened to their parents. Monica could only begin to imagine the chaos that ensued back home. Yet, as she walked she began to feel guilty. Of course after that feeling set in she realized that she needed to pray. So she stopped where she was and did just that. Then she continued walking, this time in search of her husband.

He sat there, in their temporary shelter, for a while and talked to the Father. Then he went to go look for his wife. He searched for her for a few hours. Finally he went back to the 'house,' hoping that she would have returned by that time, but she was nowhere to be found. He was growing very nervous about this. Where could she have gone? What could have happened to her? How could he make it up to her? The sun was setting over the horizon. The day's last sun shined over the water and made it sparkle. Andrew built a bonfire in front of their makeshift house. Suddenly he heard footsteps. He looked up, and there she was.

"Andre." She said softly as she dropped to her knees and took both of his hands in both of hers. "I'm sorry."

"No Angel Girl, I'm the one who's sorry."

"No I am."

"Maybe then, we both are. I'm sorry, you're right, I was just thinking too much about myself."

"Actually, I was beginning to think that you were right, at least, partly."

"Why?"

"Because we are a married couple. We've never had time a way like this before. With or without each other, this is a special gift and I took it for granted. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. I was being selfish. I was putting my self above being a Dad and I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

"Yes darling, and you're the best daddy I know." He smiled at this remark.

"Anyway. Let's just enjoy out time alone together. But first, we must pray."

Andrew and Monica then engaged in a long and beautiful prayer. By the time that their prayer had ended the sun had finally descended over the edge of the earth. Now only the bright crescent moon shone upon the water and the stars lit up the sky like fireflies on a summer's night. Andrew kissed his wife's neck as he slipped off her silk over shirt. She ran her hands across his bare back as their lips met. With his other hand he caressed her face. He pulled away from her just to get lost in her eyes for a few seconds, and he smiled. Then, he pressed his lips against hers in hungry anticipation. Sharing the same hunger, she responded by running her fingers through his hair and pulling her body closer to his. Taking his wife in his arms, they tumbled into the sand.

………………..