Chapter 120

Fiona

“Oh, my gosh! Look, Ethan,” I call, pointing down the little road to the grouping of stalls that line up along a boarded off street. It looks like some sort of market where people can sell things as vendors.

“Do you want to check it out?” He asks, turning toward the street.

Nodding, I try to go over there, but Ethan holds me back, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me to his chest. A car speeds by, closely riding the curb we’re standing on. I hadn’t seen the car, and if I’d taken one step off the curb, I would’ve been hit.

“Thanks,” I mumble as Ethan growls at the retreating car. For a second, I think he may go after it, but then he turns his attention back to me, secures my hand in his, and then looks around. When we know there are no cars coming, we cross the road to the street vendors.

There have to be at least twenty stalls lined up and down the street, with some on the left and some on the right. People shout and greet us as we walk by, and we stop at the first booth. A variety of unique necklaces and bracelets litter the table, some with shells and others with shark teeth.

Something tickles at my mind.

“What is it?” Ethan asks, looking down at me as I stare at a pretty sea glass necklace.

“N-nothing, I just think this is a pretty necklace,” I mutter, letting it lay back on the table. I shake off the funny feeling and plaster a smile on my face while pulling Ethan to the next table.

This stall is full of ornate, beautifully woven baskets of every size you could think of. One of them is even large enough that I’m sure I could fit in it if I tried. There are colorful ones, with blues and greens woven through the tan pieces, but there are also neutral browns and tans that make up others.

“Mommy! I want one of these!” A small girl cries, pointing at the basket with the little dolphin painted on the side. The little girl points at the sea creature with a large grin on her face.

A woman steps up, and my knees grow weak. My mother crouches down to the little girl, and they look at the basket together. She wraps her arm around the familiar little girl’s body and smiles down at her.

“Are you sure, Fiona? What will you use it for?”

My younger self taps at her chin in thought then smiles up at Mom, “I can put my books in it when we get home.”

Mom gasps in mock surprise, and I smile at the memory. She over exaggerates her response, her grin growing wide as she puts her hands on her cheeks in a surprise gesture.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, baby girl. This is perfect for your books,” she tells little Fiona. I close my eyes, trying to grasp more of the memory, but it fades away too soon.

“Fiona?”

My eyes pop open at Ethan’s voice to find him standing in front of me, leaning in, and gripping my shoulders.

“Sorry, I just… I think I’ve been here before,” I tell him, letting my eyes roam the street. “I remember my mom buying me a basket just like this, but the one she got me had a dolphin on it. I remember going on vacation when I was little, but I didn’t realize we were here.”

Ethan stares at me for a moment, and I just stare back, letting the realization sink into both of us.

“You and your mom were here?”

I nod, “I’m sure my father was here too, but I don’t remember him being in this booth with us.”

Ethan nods and looks around, his eyes scanning the area.

“Do you remember any of the other stalls or anything else from the trip?” He asks, and I reach back into my memory. This trip was probably close to twenty years ago, so I have to sift back through many years of memories with my mother.

Ethan guides us down the street as I think. We stop at another booth with some pretty clothes, all the colors deep and rich. The blues are bright like the ocean with slivers of green and some pinks. A pretty, flowing skirt catches my attention. The soft, light material slides over my fingers like liquid, sparking another memory.

“We went to a hula class that the resort we stayed at was hosting, and we wore skirts like this one,” I tell Ethan, lifting the skirt off the rack. I hold it up to my waist, remembering the bright pink and red skirt I’d worn as a kid. This one is similar, but instead of red, this one has purples in it, more like the one my mom wore.

“She wanted to do something fun with me, and I liked watching the dancers during the dinner we went to one night, so she signed us up for the class. I don’t remember it fully, but I do remember they let us dress up in these pretty skirts and they taught us to dance,” I tell Ethan while hanging the skirt back up. My fingers twitch to pick it back up, but I don’t have the money. “I kind of remember that the dance teacher was a woman who was teaching with her husband or maybe her brother. My mom and I were at the front of the class, and every time we messed up, I laughed. It was only one class, but it was fun to spend time with my mom.”

“Did you get a souvenir from the dance?” He asks, glancing around the booth. It has a hula vibe, so maybe this is where people buy their outfits when they practice hula.

“I don’t remember getting one, but it’s been so long…”

Ethan reaches for the skirt I’d picked up and takes it over to the lady running the stall.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

He glances back at me with a smile, saying, “I’m buying you a souvenir.”

“You don’t have to. It was years ago.”

Ethan merely shakes his head, and exchanges money with the woman. She smiles brightly and says something I don’t catch, but before I can protest more, Ethan is at my side, tying the skirt around my waist and covering my shorts.

“I want to, Fiona,” Ethan says softly. “You miss your mom, and I want to give you something to hold onto.”

His words, though simple, bring tears to my eyes. Having something physical, especially since everything I own is gone, means more to me than anything he could’ve said. As the years go by, it’s harder and harder to remember everything about my mom.

“I do miss her,” I admit, my fingers running over the skirt while my blurry eyes make it hard to see. I try not to look at Ethan. If I do, I’ll probably break down into sobs like I did after my call with my father.

“Can I ask what happened to your mom?”

I nod, sniffling and leaning into Ethan’s side as we walk past more vendors. I stay quiet until we’ve reached a bench on the edge of the beach where there aren’t any people around. I take the time between walking and sitting to mentally prepare myself.

When we sit, Ethan pulls me to his side, cocooning me with his arm.

“She was sick with a bone cancer. It was a rare form of genetic cancer that the doctors couldn’t pinpoint, and it was… by the time they found it, it was too late anyway,” I tell him, looking down at our hands. I take comfort in the touch and squeeze his fingers. “She was in and out of the hospital for smaller sicknesses most of my high school and college years. They found the cancer while I was in college.”

“There wasn’t anything they could do to help? Even rare diseases have doctors who specialize in them,” Ethan says. I shake my head.

It was the worst day of my life when they told me she only had a year left to live.

“I remember the doctor coming in, Ethan. He, a professional, looked sad, and I just broke down that day,” I whimper, remembering how my mother, and I had gone in because she’d passed out. “They put her on chemo after he told us she didn’t have much longer, and I got one more year with her before she passed.”

The ache in my chest spreads, climbing up my throat until I’m choking on the memories.

“Hey, hey,” Ethan murmurs, cupping my cheeks and brushing the falling tears. “I’m sorry for pulling up these bad memories.”

Shaking my head, I lift my eyes. I’m glad he asked. I don’t get to talk about my mom much, so even though it hurts, I’m glad he asked. My tears soak through his shirt, but he only pulls me closer.

Ethan seems to understand my thoughts because he leans in, brushing his lips across my forehead and whispering, “If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.”

“One last shop,” Ethan says, glancing at his watch. We haven’t eaten since breakfast, and it’s well past two in the afternoon, so I agree before I pull him into the small vendor station. My eyes bouncing from one thing to another, taking in all the different carvings and art figures.

“Look at how cute this is!” I exclaim, picking up a small wolf figurine. “It looks like Zev.” I spin around and show it to Ethan, who chuckles.

However, it’s not Ethan who responds.

“I’m much better looking than this piece of wood,” Zev says with a disgruntled sniff. I giggle and set it back down, ruffling his hair.

“You sure are.”

He rolls his eyes with a fake scoff as I turn and continue looking at figurines. There’s pretty much every animal you can think of, especially if they’re ocean animals or fish. Ethan disappears from my side for a bit, but I’m not worried. I know he won’t leave me.

“Ready to go?” He asks when he finds me again. I put down the pretty glass turtle figure and turn to him. Before I can say anything, though, I spot the small bag in his hand.

“Yeah… What’s that?”

“Just a little souvenir.”

“For?”

“For you, of course,” he says with a cute wrinkle of his nose.

He lifts the bag, dangling it in the air between us and piquing my curiosity.

“Really? What is it?” I ask, reaching for the bag. Ethan grins and passes it to me as we leave the shop.

Pulling out the object wrapped in tissue paper, I allow Ethan to guide me down the street. I didn’t expect him to get me anything, especially since he bought me the skirt already. So, when I unwrap the paper and find the little wolf figure, I feel the tears welling up in my eyes again.

“Aw, Ethan,” I whisper, holding it close to my chest as I look up at him. “Thank you.”