Touch of Paradise. Dara Girard

      “Just remember that if he tries anything, go for the soft spots and—”

      “Good night,” Rebecca said before disconnecting. She handed the phone back to Aaron, then sat down.

      Aaron replaced the phone and sat beside her. “What soft spots should you go for?”

      Rebecca felt her face burn. “You heard that?”

      “Couldn’t help it. I think I could hear your friend over a hurricane warning.”

      “She just worries sometimes.”

      Aaron nodded, then pointed to the TV. “You can watch whatever you want.”

      “I don’t watch much TV,” Rebecca said, glancing around the room. She pointed to a covered table near the wall where a framed item sat. She saw a miniature three-dimensional scene of people taking a picture in the cove. “What’s that?”

      “Oh, just one of my hobbies.”

      She walked over to it. “It’s beautiful. What is it called?”

      “A diorama.”

      “Do you have others?”

      Aaron looked at her, skeptical. “You really want to see them? My job is to keep you awake, not put you to sleep.”

      “I won’t fall asleep. I’m really curious.”

      “Okay.” He lifted up the tablecloth and set three more dioramas on the table.

      Rebecca bent down and studied their intricate details.

      “I base some of them on stories like Treasure Island or Robinson Crusoe, but I mostly like showing scenes of nature,” Aaron said after a while, as if he was made uncomfortable by her silence.

      She turned to him. “You really love this island, don’t you?”

      “It’s my life.”

      “You remind me of my grandmother.”

      Aaron frowned and started to put the dioramas away, annoyed. “Because this is the hobby of an old woman?”

      “No, because you create beautiful things. My grandmother is one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known. I’m a fashion design major because of her. She couldn’t afford much, but she always made me look and feel good. Even when other kids would make fun of a sweater she created, I didn’t care, because every time I put something on that she made, I knew I was loved. She’d take my sister and me to the park and just look at birds, and gain inspiration for a dress or blouse. She’d race home and gather different cloths and materials and create something amazing. She lives life with passion. Just like you.”

      “No one has ever said that to me before. I’m not really—”

      “But you are,” Rebecca interrupted. “Looking at what you’ve created makes me want to be an inch tall so that I can escape into this world. I can see your love of this island and the people here. You’re so talented. I wish I could create something this intricate.”

      “They are really not that difficult to make. It just takes some patience. Want me to show you?”

      “Yes.”

      All through the night Aaron eagerly showed Rebecca his collection of art materials and selection of intricate hand tools he used, and walked her through the basic steps to making a diorama. Then they spent the rest of the time sharing their hopes and dreams.

      He told her about his vision to expand his family’s hotel into an international holiday resort; she told him how she hoped to travel the world and become a famous designer one day. She made him laugh with her imitations of her various college roommates and professors, and her grandmother.

      “I know your mother died in a hospital, but what about your father?” Aaron finally asked. “You only talk about your grandmother.”

      “He’s gone, too. He died when I was three. But don’t feel sorry for me. My grandmother and sister love me enough for both my parents.”

      Aaron pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. “How do you feel?”

      At that moment she felt hot, but not from illness. She adjusted her position and moved out of his reach. “Good. I was sleepy before, but now I’m having so much fun, I’m not even thinking about what happened.”

      He looked at the small scene she was completing, which consisted of a palm tree and what looked like a baby seal, sunning on a beach.

      “It’s not very good,” she said. “But at least I’ve enjoyed making it.”

      “You’re doing a great job, and it’s almost morning so I think you’ll be safe.”

      “You want me to go now?”

      “No, not yet,” he said with a smile. “I just didn’t want you to be worried about having to stay here too much longer.”

      “Why not? I like it here. You’re fun.”

      He laughed.

      “What’s so funny?”

      “No one has ever said that to me, either. You really are a strange one.”

      “How can that be strange? You are fun.”

      He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “Thanks, I really needed to hear that. You’re sweet.” He stood. “Let me go get us something to eat.”

      When Aaron returned carrying a large tray filled with bowls of fruit, hot cereal and toast, she could hardly eat. She couldn’t focus. He’d kissed her. Sure, it was on the forehead and like a kiss a big brother would give a little sister, but that didn’t matter. He’d kissed her.

      He’d not only saved her life and listened to her stories, he made her feel special. No one had ever made her feel that way before.