The Inside Diaries

Esculenta

Morgana glanced up. Fernando.

"Where is she?" he repeated, more insistent, as she repressed the urge to roll her eyes. Men. So demanding. Expecting an instant answer.

"How should I know?" came her reply as his shoulders slumped.

"So you haven't heard from her either?"

"A word of advice, son?" she rose, dusting off her knees. "If she wants to be left alone, leave her be."

"But—"

"She'll emerge when she's ready." With that, Morgana knelt again with a low groan, pulling out hefty turnip-like taro plants, those Colocasia esculenta, their heart-shaped leaves fluttering in the island breeze.

Meanwhile, Melanija curled her toes against the flamingo pink sand, sighing happily. Now this was the life. Alone on a tiny heart-shaped island, she'd promised its owner she would check the sand content and water the plants, though the only ones she saw were...she counted—four—no, five—palm tree plants. Funny, really, how everything was relative. She thought plants were no more than three feet high, green-leaved and delicate enough for the climes. Apparently, others such as this island's owner thought differently. Still, they were their babies, and she would treat them as such.

Another hour or two and she paddled back to the main shoreline, the sun having re-emerged from its cloud-hidden confinement, the sea a deep onyx from the sudden storm that had swooped down mere hours earlier, then disappeared nearly as soon as it came. The tall, reedy palm trees immediately overhead held feather-like fronds, a rich aventurine green lightening to hay-hued blond beneath. There she was, on a perfectly beautiful day, on a perfectly beautiful island—

A stab at her heart—pain—tears—she wiped them away, her bare feet plodding through the powdery sand as she held her shoes with one hand.

You miss him, don't you?

That voice. Her conscience. It could be annoyingly direct at times.

No—she remonstrated silently, walking until she hit the main intersection, continuing until verdant greenery of the local park beckoned. I'm Miss Independent. I can do it all—by myself—

Sure, that voice responded. But do you really want to? Be honest, now.

She sighed. Matters of the heart were quite complex creatures.

More hours passed, and she found herself making her way to Morgana's backyard for evening dinner al fresco, the glittering tealights beckoning a path forward into the lush, cultivated garden. Two wicker chairs, each with a sizable black-and-white-patterned pillow stood out amongst the ferns, palms, cabbage, magnolias, and more. "Sit," Morgana motioned. "Please."

And so she did, taking the proffered sweetened guava iced tea and a first course of ripened freshly-cut tomatoes interspersed with the freshest circlets of sliced mozzarella she had ever seen. "Delicious," she murmured as Morgana nodded.

"Thought you'd be peckish, child. That's quite some island-hopping you're doing—"

"Yeah. It's been...busy," Melanija managed to say. "But it's nice to see you again."

More comfortable silence as Morgana eased her way to conversation. "Speaking of seeing people again..."

Melanija inhaled sharply. "Fernando stopped by, didn't he?"

She nodded. "Earlier. Told him you were busy."

"Then he left?"

"Well..." Morgana adjusted her bifocals. "First he helped pick my taro plants. Sent him home with a recipe for purple poi dip—"

Melanija sipped her tea. "Did you tell him where I was?"

The older woman shook her head. "Not my place."

"Thanks."

"But you really should tell him where you are, my sweet. He's really worried."

"He is?"

Morgana thought to say more, but took a bite of mozzarella instead, reclining into her chair. "Forget what I said, I really mustn't meddle—" she paused, then continued. "But if you feel anything for him, I'd advise you to clear the air once and for all."

"I'll—I'll give it some thought," came the reply. "I needed...time. And space."

Morgana smiled. "I figured as much." She plucked a tomato slice. "Just, don't delay that conversation more than necessary. It was one of the biggest regrets of my life, and I'd hate to see you make the same mistake."

Wow. Morgana must have loved Matias back then. And she still does.

"I know. I'll give it thought."

"See that you do."