As Beautiful as the Bay

by Serenity Woods

  Having Ginger there didn’t help. He could see her out of the corner of his eye, next to Mac, Fred, and Sandi, looking gorgeous if somewhat pale in a dark green dress, her hair pulled back in a severe bun. He knew he’d been tough on her the night before. She’d offered him something wonderful, and he’d tossed it away like a piece of trash. It must have taken her some courage to tell him her idea. After everything she’d been through, the last thing she needed was for him to trample all over her feelings.

  He wanted her so much it hurt, and he felt as if he’d had an arm removed with her not being beside him at night. But he knew he mustn’t continue with the relationship until he was sure what he was going to do. It wasn’t fair on her. His heart ached, and he wanted to drive down to the seafront and just keep walking, letting the salty spray cool his face, until his legs couldn’t walk anymore and he just lay down on the sand. Instead, he had to sit there and watch his father’s coffin disappear through the curtains, in a surreal scene that left him numb and shaky.

  He was relieved when the service ended. Mac had offered to have everyone back to the vineyard after the cremation, and they’d laid on a generous spread with plenty of wine to go around. He drove Sam there, not saying much, talking a little about who’d turned up, and how nice the weather had been. Sam was half tempted to ask him to keep going south, but forced himself to stay quiet, and eventually they arrived at the vineyard. Mac continued to stay by his side, though, as he spoke to the guests, and then gathered everyone together out on the grass.

  It was a cool, wintry day, but the sun was shining over the bay. Sam wanted to say something to everyone who’d come. He’d written a short speech, thankfully, because his mind had gone blank, and he got it out now and unfolded it as he climbed the steps on the deck so he was a little above everyone, and turned to face them. He looked up, scanning the crowd, trying to gather his wits.

  And then his gaze fell on someone at the back. A slim woman, dressed in a long, black dress.

  Alyssa?

  What the fuck? Had she been at the crematorium? If so, he hadn’t seen her.

  He blinked, and she gave him a small smile and a little wave. Shocked, he looked at Ginger, who was watching him, her green eyes free of makeup and red-rimmed—she’d obviously been crying. He dropped his gaze back to his speech, his mind reeling. He didn’t have time for either of them now. Focusing on the paper, he began to read.

  “Dad was a tough old guy,” he said. “Nothing mattered more to him than his bakery and this town. He carried within him the spirit of his father, and his grandfather, and every ancestor right back to Hone, who married the daughter of the original Samuel Pankhurst. The bakery was his life, and I’m glad he never had to see it destroyed in the recent storm.”

  There were mutterings from others who had suffered in a similar manner, with many people saying Kia ora, a phrase which meant hello but was also said to show agreement and support.

  “I loved him dearly, and the world is a poorer place for his passing,” Sam said. His voice almost broke, and he stopped for a moment before he continued. “I’d like to offer his favorite karakia.” A prayer. Dutifully, everyone bent their heads. “Whakataka te hau ki te uru. Whakataka te hau ki te tonga. Kia mākinakina ki uta. Kia mātaratara ki tai. E hī ake ana te atakura. He tio, he huka, he hau hū. Tīhei mauri ora.” He cleared his throat and repeated the prayer in English. “Cease the winds from the west. Cease the winds from the south. Let the breeze blow over the land. Let the breeze blow over the ocean. Let the red-tipped dawn come with a sharpened air. A touch of frost, a promise of a glorious day.”

  His vision blurred, and he swallowed hard. He blinked to clear his eyes, and glanced around. There wasn’t a dry eye in the crowd.

  There, old man, he thought. I hope, just this once, I didn’t disappoint you.

  “Let’s close with a song,” he said. “Dad loved singing. I think most people here know E Toru Ngā Mea, but it’s repeated in the handout if you don’t.” It was an old Maori hymn. He began singing the lines, his deep voice ringing out across the vineyard, and everyone sang them after him. “E toru ngā mea, Ngā mea nui, E kī ana, Te Paipera, Tūmanako, Whakapono, Ko te mea nui, Ko te aroha.” He said the words in English in his head. There are three things, very important things, as stated in The Bible, Hope, Faith, and the greatest thing, Love.

  His gaze fell on Ginger, who had tears running down her face, and then on Alyssa at the back. She wasn’t crying, but she looked sad. He met her gaze, then looked away. Why had she come? His emotions were as jumbled as a bag of marbles. He couldn’t decide whether he was pleased to see her or not.

  Thankfully, it was over. He stood, on auto-pilot still, and spent some time talking to those who wanted to pass on their condolences while others moved on to the food and gathered in small groups, eating and talking.

  Ginger came up and gave him a hug, and he rested his lips on the top of her hair for a moment.

  “Sweetheart?” he murmured. “I have to tell you something.”

  She lifted her face to look at him. “What?”

  “Alyssa is here.”

  Her eyes widened. “Where?”

  He indicated behind her, where his ex stood, sipping from a glass of what looked like lemonade. Alyssa was watching them, but she turned away as she saw Ginger stare at her.

  “What’s she doing here?” Ginger asked. “Did you call her?”

  “No. She must have seen the message I put on my Facebook page telling everyone where I was holding the service.” He squeezed Ginger’s hand. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to talk to her.”

  He’d expected her to get angry, but to his surprise she just smiled at him. “I know. It’s okay. You do what you need to do.” She reached up and kissed his cheek, then walked away.

  He stared after her, puzzled at her reaction, something else that must have taken a lot of courage. She knew he was unsettled, and maybe she thought that talking to Alyssa would help him make up his mind about what to do.

  He picked up a beer, and walked slowly across the lawn to stand beside the slim woman in the black dress.

  For a long moment, they didn’t say anything—they just looked out across Blue Penguin Bay, across the fields of vines to the Pacific Ocean, sparkling in the distance.

  “I always wondered what it looked like,” Alyssa said. “You described it so many times with such love, but I never pictured it as beautiful as this.”

  Her words surprised him—had he talked about the bay with fondness, then? He’d thought himself relieved to be away.

  He turned to her as he had a mouthful of the beer, and studied her face, at once both so well known to him, and yet oddly unfamiliar after being apart for a year. “How are you?”

  “I’m good.” She smiled. “I hope you don’t mind me coming.”

  “I was surprised to see you here,” he replied, not really answering her, because he wasn’t sure what to say.

  “I’ve been meaning to come by for a while, but... well... I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me.”

  He softened a little inside. They’d spent the best part of three years together, on and off. “Of course it’s great to see you.”

  “I’m so glad.” She moved closer to him and slid her arms around his waist.

  It caught him by surprise. He stiffened, not putting his arms around her, and refusing to look over at where he knew Ginger must be watching them, feeling suddenly as if he was cheating on her.

  Alyssa waited a moment, then drew back. She glanced in Ginger’s direction, and then back at him. “Ah. I see.”

  “It’s been a year,” he reminded her. “Surely you didn’t expect everything to be the same.” But he could see by her face that she had.

  “I saw your Facebook posts about the bakery,” she said. “I’m really sorry.”

  He had another swallow of the beer. “Thank you.”

  “I know it was a difficult decision to leave the ship and go home. I can only imagine how you feel.”


  “It wasn’t that difficult,” he said softly, lifting his gaze back to hers.

  She looked into his eyes, and twin spots of red appeared on her cheeks. “Ouch,” she said.

  He didn’t say anything, and the spots of red grew.

  “I didn’t come here to argue,” she said.

  “Good. Because I’m not in the mood for it, either.”

  “I just thought...” A frown flickered on her brow. “Come on, Sam, you can’t be happy here, doing what you’re doing. Making buns for the local Women’s Institute? You used to mock all that.”

  “I know I did, and I’m ashamed of that,” he said honestly. “I’ve learned that local businesses play an important role in the community. It’s not all about fame and stardom.” He didn’t mention winning the award—he couldn’t imagine it would impress her.

  Now impatience flittered on her face. “Oh come on, don’t be so fucking pompous, I can’t believe you’ve changed that much. You came back to look after your dad, and now he’s gone, and so has the bakery. There’s nothing stopping you from coming back to the ship.”

  “Yes, there is,” he said.

  “Are you talking about her?” She nodded in Ginger’s direction.

  He thought about the girl who’d shared his bed the past week or two. Their relationship had barely gotten its feet off the ground, but like a sunrise on a summer day, it held the promise of beauty.

  He wasn’t sure yet what he was going to do, but he knew what he didn’t want. “I’m not going to talk to you about Ginger,” he said. “I’m talking about my life here, in Blue Penguin Bay. You’re right—I was very scornful of it, but now I’ve been back for a while, I’ve discovered its benefits. Life on board was...” He hesitated, trying to think of a comparison. “...like making spun sugar. It was breathtaking and beautiful, and it didn’t matter that it only lasted for a limited time because you could make a different batch every day. But being here, being at home, it’s like baking bread. It’s warm and it’s satisfying, and it’s fulfilling. It’s...” His voice trailed off. He could see that she didn’t understand. Alyssa was a dancer who performed on the stage every night. She had no interest in food, and no soul when it came to comprehending anything more than what something tasted like.

  “You’re not coming back.” It was a statement, not a question.

  He shook his head, only making up his mind at that moment.

  “I can’t believe it.” She looked stunned. “I thought you just needed time, and then you’d realize how much you missed it.”

  “Sometimes I miss the freedom, I admit. And the cities, and being at sea. But there’s something here that’s...” He looked out across the bay, having difficulty putting his feelings into words. As a youth, he’d longed to get away, to experience adventure, but something had happened over the past year.

  He knew what it was. He’d grown up.

  He used to think it meant becoming dull. He’d equated it with not knowing what music was number one in the charts, with wearing old-fashioned clothes, with being concerned about house prices and interest rates and other things that had bored him to tears. But suddenly, the thought of staying and settling down didn’t frighten him. In fact, the idea of coming home every night to a new home, to a wife, to his own children, was the opposite of scary. It filled him with warmth.

  “I’m guessing I don’t feature in this fantasy of yours,” Alyssa said.

  He brought his gaze back to hers. “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged. “It was worth a try. You are quite a catch, Sam Pankhurst. I’m the stupid one for letting you go.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Are you going back to Auckland?”

  “Yeah. The ship leaves in three days. I’ve got friends to see before I’m off again.”

  “Take care of yourself, won’t you?”

  “You too. And I am sorry about your dad.”

  He nodded, put the beer bottle on a nearby table, and walked away, toward the vineyard.

  The wind had dropped, and in spite of it being the middle of winter, the Northland sub-tropical sun was warm on his face. He stopped at the edge of the vines and closed his eyes.

  He thought of his father, and of the bakery, empty as a shell, dark and cold. Tears pricked his eyes. He wished it hadn’t ended that way. It made the decision about what to do so much more difficult. He wasn’t sure what he thought about an afterlife. Did he really believe that his father had gone to a better place? He hoped that was the case, but did it mean his dad was watching him now, waiting to see what he did with his life?

  In a fit of pique, after an argument, he’d once thought his life would be easier if his father wasn’t around, but suddenly he knew his dad had never really been the problem. The only person he had to please was himself. Only he knew how much potential and ambition he had. Only he knew if he was letting himself down.

  He might not have been the baker of bread that Ian was, but he had still been given a gift. Wasn’t it his duty to make the most of it that he possibly could? What was the point in spending the rest of his life trying to please his father?

  His thoughts and emotions whirled around him, and he let his gaze drift out to sea with the boats heading out from the harbor.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ginger watched Sam walk down to the vines and saw him stop and slide his hands into his pockets. She itched to walk down there and talk to him, but she wasn’t sure whether he would want that or not.

  And besides, his ex was walking toward her.

  Heart suddenly racing, Ginger put down her wine glass and turned to face her, wondering if the other woman was angry. Was she about to have a slanging match? She hoped not, and she glanced around desperately for Fred or Sandi, but both of them were in the middle of conversations and weren’t paying any attention to her.

  Alyssa stopped before her, and the two women studied each other. She was beautiful, Ginger, thought, in a slightly hippy way. She was probably vegetarian. Ginger didn’t trust people who didn’t like meat.

  “Hi,” she said, for want of anything else to say.

  Alyssa’s lips curved up. “Hey. I’m guessing you know who I am.”

  Ginger was tempted to say no, but she nodded reluctantly.

  “I just wanted to say...” Alyssa hesitated, and her gaze drifted over to Sam for a moment. She looked sad, Ginger thought, not angry. Alyssa’s eyes came back to her. “Look after him,” she said.

  Ginger’s eyebrows rose. “You’re leaving?”

  Alyssa nodded. “You won.”

  “It’s not a competition,” Ginger said, somewhat sharply.

  Alyssa shrugged. “Whatever. I still lost.” She looked at her shoes and scuffed at a stone with a toe.

  Ginger couldn’t think what to say. Her mind was spinning. Did this mean Sam wasn’t leaving? He wasn’t going back to the ship?

  “Did he tell you what happened between us?” Alyssa said, lifting her head.

  Ginger wasn’t sure if she wanted to know all the details. “I know he had to come home because his father had a stroke, and he needed to look after the family business.”

  Alyssa tossed back her hair, then sighed. “When we first started seeing each other, it was very relaxed, just hooking up once or twice a week whenever we felt like it. At first, I was happy with that, but the years went by, and I kept waiting for him to make some sort of commitment, but he never did. One night, I broached the subject and asked where we were heading. He made light of it and said he thought we were just casual. I was so angry that night. I did the evening show, and afterward I was in the bar, drowning my sorrows. There was a guy, a passenger on the ship, sitting next to me, and we got talking, and... well, we ended up in bed. Someone told Sam the next day. When he confronted me, I think a part of me hoped he’d be jealous. Even though he’d called our relationship casual, I suppose I thought it would force him to admit how much he liked me. But he just turned and walked out, and he refused to talk to me about it. Lat
er that week, he told me he was going back home.”

  Ginger stared at her. So Sam’s comment about their relationship being open had been a lie. He’d obviously thought of Alyssa as his girl, even if he hadn’t wanted to make it more permanent. And when she’d slept with someone else, he must have seen it as cheating on him.

  She felt a pang of pity for Alyssa, who looked sad. Alyssa obviously missed him, and she’d wanted a more serious relationship. Sleeping with someone else was a stupid way to show it, though.

  “I just didn’t want you to make the same mistake as I,” Alyssa said.

  Ginger decided not to point out that she would never have slept with another man to make her boyfriend jealous. She wasn’t going to judge Alyssa for what she’d done. The girl had made a mistake, and she was paying the price for it. “I’m sorry,” she said, although she wasn’t sorry they’d broken up, because it must have made the decision easier for Sam to return.

  “I saw the way he looked at you,” Alyssa said. “You’re lucky. It looks as if his feelings for you are stronger than they were for me.”

  “We’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks,” Ginger pointed out.

  Alyssa looked surprised, and then her lips curved up in a wry smile. “I suppose time isn’t necessarily a factor in how someone feels about you.” She glanced back at him one more time, her gaze full of longing and regret. Then she smiled again. “Okay, I’d better be going.”