Consequences

lovely as where we are going.”
    “And we are going where?” Claire asked, intrigued. Tony’s eyes sparkled, the black almost completely overtaken with the soft chocolate hue. His grin mischievous, he didn’t answer. “And how much longer until we get there?”
    “Mrs. Rawlings, you are very inquisitive. What if I told you that we wouldn’t reach our destination until tomorrow?”
    Claire thought about that. Twenty-four more hours of flying? She realized he wasn’t talking about twenty-four hours. “Well, Mr. Rawlings, I would say it sounds like we are crossing the International Date Line.” She smiled smugly.
    He looked at her with admiration, and addressed Eric, who was refilling their coffee cups. “My wife is not only beautiful, she is also incredibly intelligent.” He kissed her head as he stood. “I believe I will freshen up before we begin our descent.” With that, he disappeared behind the wall at the back of the cabin. Claire noticed his laptop open on the table. The screen was, of course, locked. A quick Google search of land west of the International Date Line would’ve been beneficial. She would just need to rely on her memory. But then she wondered if they were staying in the northern hemisphere or heading south? Sighing, she sipped her delicious coffee. She would have to wait, she didn’t have a choice.
    Before they left the plane Tony told Claire to get her purse from her overnight bag. Jokingly she asked if she needed it to pay for breakfast. No. She needed her passport. “When did I get a passport?” He reminded her they’d discussed it months ago and Brent had filed the necessary paperwork. Apparently, this all happened while she was recovering from her accident. She couldn’t remember any of it, yet there it was, her picture, her signature, and her name Claire Nichols . Tony promised they would apply for a new one with her real name , Rawlings , as soon as they returned, and a new ID. He smiled. Her new credit cards had already been requested.
    Hawaii was anticlimactic. She smelled the humid sea air as they descended the steps to the solid ground. The gentle tropical breeze enticed her skin. But they didn’t see anything other than the inside of the Honolulu International Airport as they searched for and found a restaurant that served breakfast.
    After eating they needed to pass the TSA desk. Eric handled the inspection of the plane and bags, Tony and Claire needed to show their passports. When they were with the TSA agent she asked their destination. Claire didn’t know. Tony answered, “Fiji. Nadi, Fiji.” Claire remembered that Fiji was a group of islands, she wasn’t sure how many, in the South Pacific. As they walked back to the plane she squeezed his hand and smiled. He wasn’t pleased his surprise was spoiled, but she knew where they were going and it made her happy. They had six more hours of flight.
    They landed in Nadi, Fiji at ten thirty in the morning Monday, December 20, after flying over eighteen hours. As their plane approached Nadi, Claire watched out the window, mesmerized by the turquoise water and sparkling white beaches. If Tony were upset about the TSA agent, witnessing Claire’s anticipation returned his own excitement.
    Once they landed Eric loaded their luggage onto a small plane with a propeller and pontoons. He wished them an enjoyable honeymoon and promised he would be waiting when they returned. Apparently, their final destination could only be accessed by air.
    Tony and Claire then took a forty-five-minute flight to a private island. Their altitude was low, allowing them to enjoy the sights: dolphins swimming, gorgeous secluded white sand beaches, palm trees, and tropical rain forest vegetation. Outside the open windows of the plane was a true paradise, an oasis away from the rest of the world. Claire had never seen anything like it, and told Tony over and over how amazing it all looked. Her childlike delight amused him. They landed on a crystal-clear aquamarine lagoon lined with a horseshoe of pristine white sand.
    Waiting on the beach was their personal staff: two chefs, maid, hostess, and boat captain. Claire had become accustomed to being waited upon, but these individuals lived to please Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings. The staff gathered their luggage as they walked a winding path to their bure , a Fijian word for straw hut . The humid tropical breeze blew Claire’s hair as her sandals sank into the white sand. Holding her husband’s hand, they