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Title: The Unimaginable
Author: Dina Silver
Age
Group: Adult
Genre: Contemporary
Romance/Mystery/Suspense
From the author of One Pink Line comes a story about letting go of the past and finding bravery in the depths of fear. Set on the sun-soaked beaches of Thailand and the rough waters of the Indian Ocean, The Unimaginable paints a vivid portrait of a young woman on a journey to find herself—and her harrowing fight for survival.
After twenty-eight years of playing by the rules, Jessica Gregory moves from her small Indiana town to Phuket, Thailand. But her newfound routine is upended with the arrival of Grant Flynn, a captivating, elusive man who is sailing around the world while trying to move on from a past tragedy. Jessica volunteers to help crew Grant’s boat, Imagine, on a passage across the Indian Ocean and finds herself falling in love with him as the voyage gets underway. But when disaster strikes, Jessica must summon her courage as the crew is confronted by unspeakable terrors––and, aboard a boat named for such promise, comes the unimaginable.
Excerpt
The driver unloaded my things onto the sidewalk and lit a cigarette
as he waited for me to get out and pay him. It was then I realized I’d
forgotten to convert my dollars to baht at the airport, but thankfully he
accepted American money. The first thing I noticed when I emerged from the cab was
the scent in the air. A wild combination of cumin, ginger, and hibiscus,
infused with diesel fumes from the motorbikes and tuk-tuks whizzing by on the
busy cross streets.
“Thank you,” I said to him, and heard the front door of the house
open behind me. A woman nicely dressed in white Capri pants and sandals came
running out. Her grayish-brown hair was in a pixie cut, and her smile made me
relax for the first time in two days.
“You must be Jessica,” she said.
“Yes, hello. Mrs. Knight?” I extended my hand.
“Lovely to meet you. Now, bring your things inside, and I will show
you to your room and introduce you to my husband,” she said, and walked back
into the house.
Soon after I’d lost my job in Indiana, I signed up for a teacher
exchange program that matches qualified educators with needy schools around the
world. Once I was accepted, I’d been paired up with Mr. and Mrs. Knight through
Tall Trees Academy. Certain families—Thai,
British, and American—took part in the program and offered rooms for
rent to people like me. The Knights were a retired American couple in their
early seventies who split their time between Phuket and their native city of
Houston, Texas. That was all I knew about them at that point.
The house was very nice-looking from the outside, and I was pleased
with the neighborhood as well. Many of the houses in Phuket are stilt houses,
built elevated back in the day to prevent flooding and keep out unwanted
animals. With most of the stilt houses, the terrace is the largest part of the
home, and there is often no indoor plumbing. Luckily for me, I was able to find
residence in a more modernized area of the city only about twenty minutes by
bicycle, my only means of transport, from the school. Bottom line, it was a far
cry from the farm I grew up on.
Once inside, I placed all of my bags in the front foyer and nearly
fell asleep waiting for Mrs. Knight to return. My body was reeling from culture
shock, jet lag, sleep deprivation, and living my dream.
“In here, dear!”
I followed her voice to a small family room with a covered terrace.
Her husband was outside reading a book and struggled to get out of his chair.
He was a heavyset man with wire-rimmed glasses who smiled and waved enthusiastically
when I rounded the corner.
“Why, hello there,” he said. “Aren’t you a lovely young
thing?”
I hurried to him. “Thank you, I’m such a mess. I’m Jessica Gregory.
It’s wonderful to meet you. I really appreciate you both so much for having
me.”
“Bob Knight. Please have a seat.” He gestured to one of the
chairs.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll fetch us some tea,” Mrs. Knight said.
Bob slowly sat back down and glanced at the red stain on my shirt.
“So, Jessica, tell me about yourself. Agnes mentioned you’re from Indiana.”
I thought of my life up until that moment and struggled to come up
with what to say. The most interesting thing I’d ever done in my twenty-eight
years was getting on that plane to Phuket. I folded my hands in my lap.
“Yes, I’m from Wolcottville. It’s about an hour east of South Bend. I
went to college near there and graduated with a degree in education, and then I
moved back home, where I worked as a second grade teacher,” I told him. But
what I wanted to say was, “Despite the fact that I’m
from a zero-stoplight town, covered in dried tomato juice, forgot to
convert my money at the airport, and can’t see straight because I couldn’t
sleep on a plane—having never flown on one before—I promise I’m not a complete
fool!”
“Is this your first time in Thailand?”
“It is.”
“And your parents, are they still in Indiana?”
“My mom passed away a couple months ago, but yes, my father and some
of my siblings are still there.” I paused and thought how little I spoke to any
of them besides Caroline. My entire family could be standing at a bus stop
together and would have almost nothing to say except for pleasantries.
“I’m sorry to hear that about your mother. Was she
ill?”
I shook my head. “She had a heart attack.”
He made a tsk sound. “Well, isn’t that a terrible thing? I’m very
sorry.”
“Thank you,” I said. I’d talked to people more about my mother in the
past two months than I had in my lifetime. As the youngest of nine kids, I
suffered the greatest distance from my mom, both in years and in emotional attachment.
She was a strict, unemotional woman, a firm disciplinarian and a stringent
Catholic who kept a ruler within reach at all times. She’d had too much sex to
be a nun, so she ruled our home like a monastery instead. I glanced down at my
hands and thought how much she would’ve hated the bright blue nail polish I was
wearing.
Mrs. Knight brought in a tray of tea.
“Thank you so much,” I said as she filled our cups.
“You have such a lovely yard. I see you’ve started some tomato plants
out back. Do you garden?” She looked out the window behind her husband. “Not so
much anymore,” she said.
“I used to grow vegetables at home, so I’d be happy to help if you
like.”
Mrs. Knight smiled at me. “I would like that very
much.”
Her husband took a sip. “So what made you decide to leave your job in
… where did you say?”
I laughed. “Wolcottville. I was let go. I was one of the younger
teachers on staff, and they had to make some budget cuts. My principal was
actually the person who gave me the idea of teaching abroad. He’d done it
himself many years ago.” I smiled when I recalled the conversation.
Nothing had ever given me such clarity as talking with him about
uprooting my entire existence to teach kids on the other side of the world.
“Anyway, the schools in Phuket, as I’m sure you know, were so profoundly
affected by the tsunami that this is one of the areas that still needs the most
help. Even after all these years.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re doing.”
“Perhaps you’d like to see your room. You must be tired,” Mrs. Knight
added.
I sighed gratefully. “Thank you. I would love to unpack and lie
down.”
My room was toward the back of the house, just behind the kitchen.
The walls were painted a pale coral color, and there was a woven pink and green
throw rug in the center of the wood floor. There was no closet, only a
removable bookshelf-like feature and chest of drawers. It was simple yet
cheerful.
“There’s a red Schwinn out back that is yours to use as long as
you’re here. We don’t allow our guests to use the washer and dryer in the
house, but there is a coin laundry up the road, and you may borrow the car once
a week to go there. I would, however, be happy to wash your shirt for you if
you’d like.”
I looked down. “That’s very nice of you but not necessary. I’ve sort
of accepted defeat on this one.”
“When you’re ready, I’ll show you the space in the refrigerator and
pantry that you may use. We ask that you be respectful of our things and our
space and use only what is yours. You are expected to buy your own food and
household items.”
“Yes, ma’am, of course. Thank you.”
She smiled, and we stared at each other for a moment. “It’s lovely to
meet you, Jessica. We always enjoy having company,” she said, and closed the
door behind her.
Once I was alone, I opened my computer and found the Knights’ Wi-Fi
signal. I made a mental note to set up password protection for them, and then
sent a quick e-mail to Caroline as promised:
Caroline,
I made it! The plane ride was not as bad as I thought it would
be, but I was awake for most of it. Thank you for the snacks. They were a
lifesaver. My hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Knight, seem like wonderful people and made
me feel very welcome. I have my own little room in the back of the house, and
it overlooks a beautiful little garden. I have so much to do and will admit to
being a little nervous about finding my way around here, but I’m mostly
excited. Once I get some rest, I’ll have a better handle on things.
Lastly, I’m sorry about how we left things. You don’t have to
come to terms with anything. I’ve come to realize that despite your years of
best efforts, there was never anything you could’ve done to make Mom proud of
me. We never had anything in common and never would. But you are the kindest,
most selfless person in our family, and we’d all be lost without you. My whole life
you were my biggest cheerleader and support system, and it’s because of you
that I was able to find the courage to leave. Maybe one day you’ll understand
why I needed to get out of Indiana, and maybe you won’t. Either way, I love you
more than anything, and I know you love me too. I’ll write again soon.
Jess
I could hardly grasp my own reality. There I was, lying on the floor
with my head on a duffel bag miles from where I grew up, in a country where I
couldn’t speak the language or hang an article of clothing, but I was home.
This was my home now.
I couldn’t help but wonder whether I’d made the right decision. Even
with weeks of planning and anticipation, nothing could prepare me for closing
the door to that coral room and lying there alone. A wave of fear rippled though
me, like the one you experience when you step onto a roller coaster for the
first time—or an airplane. Your heart beats a little faster, and your head is
spinning from trying to calculate the safest amount of risk. I closed my eyes, but
my nerves had got the best of me. I was afraid, yes, but in the best possible
way. Afraid of what my life would’ve become had I not taken a leap of faith. Thanks
to the time difference, I awoke, wide-eyed and full of energy, at three o’clock
in the morning. I was hesitant to traipse around the house at that hour, so
I turned the light on and unpacked some of my things. At the first
crack of dawn, I opened my door and walked out. The house was quiet, and the
streets were empty and calm. I tiptoed outside to the backyard and surveyed the
neglected garden. While the veggies were not so impressive, the flowers were
spectacular. I was unfamiliar with the different types, but they were
everywhere, showing off their vibrant colors, almost daring me not to marvel at
them.
There was a small shed near a rear fence, where I found some hand
tools. Mrs. Knight had done a decent job of getting the tomato plants to where
they needed to be in the ground, but I could tell they were too crowded and not
planted deep enough. An hour later I’d replanted them, drenched them with
water, and swept the back patio. After a quick shower, I rummaged through my
backpack, looking for the letters. Before I left, I’d asked some of my old
students back in Indiana to write notes to the kids in Phuket and promised to
start a pen pal program. I sat on the floor of my room and read through some of
them. Their desire to share their favorite foods and colors and video games and
questions like “Do you have McDonald’s in Tie Land?” made me miss them more than
I already did.
“Is everything all right, dear?”
I heard Mrs. Knight’s voice from the door to my bedroom. I looked up
at her and hadn’t even realized I was crying.
Giveaway
About Dina Silver
Dina
Silver is an author, a wine drinker, and an excellent parallel parker. She is
the author of Kat Fight, Finding Bliss, and One Pink
Line, which was chosen as a 2012 Top Title by IndieReader and was a
finalist in their 2012 Discovery Awards. She lives with her husband, son, and
twenty-pound tabby cat in suburban Chicago. She’d prefer to live where it’s
warm year round, but then she’d never stay home and write anything.
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