by Munt, S. K
Did he love Adele? He wasn’t sure. He had, the year before, when he’d felt secure with her. But that had gone to hell since the break up. And even though he knew she’d slept around during his absence, she didn’t think twice about scowling at him whenever a pretty girl looked his way!
Which granted, wasn’t often. Yes he was well-off, yet to see his thirtieth birthday, and he part-owned a very popular resort-all good on paper. But his youth had deserted him when his mother died. Now he was suit guy. Old guy. Partnered with dad and ran out of time for the gym guy. His reflection mocked the memory of the handsome life guard he had once been.
Lincoln began his trek down the beach, inhaling the crisp night air, eyeing the ocean he hadn’t set foot in since he was sixteen with a mixture of awe and terror, trying not to think of his mother’s passing, over a decade before. Once upon a time, this bay had been the setting for what he’d believed would be an extraordinary life. There had been days when he’d come here as a boy, days when the sun hadn’t set until seven, the surf had been amazing and a golden blonde, his ‘mermaid’ he’d thought of her as, had been his constant companion.
Lincoln sighed and turned his back to the water and the ghosts dwelling within. For the past two summers, Adele had actually been a welcome distraction from his past. But now that it was faltering, Lincoln had started comparing Adele to the love of his life- as he had every other relationship before then. It always came back to Ivanna.
He kicked up a divot of sand, watching it fly. Coming to the beach to soothe his anxiety had been a bad idea. Since his mother’s death and Ivanna’s disappearance, glimpses of the cruel and expansive sea had started raising more questions then it had provided answers.
All Lincoln could dare to hope for was that one day, he would look out there and see water instead of ghosts.
2.
It was official-Adele had a split personality.
Ivyanne had witnessed the magical transformation of “Morning Adele” to “Lunch Adele” and was impressed that a mere human could be so complex. The snarling, raggedy- haired wench who had thrown a shoe out the window in a fit of rage when she couldn’t find the other after showering early that morning- had become a glossy, smiley ray of sunshine doling out menus to customers and introducing Ivyanne cheerfully as ‘The New Girl’.
‘Here you go, hon!’ Adele said, handing Ivyanne a grey tray full of silverware with a slight cringe-indicating that the large bucket was heavy. It wasn’t. Well, not for Ivyanne.
‘What do I do with it?’
‘Polish them. The vinegar water is at the table by the window. Just dump the cutlery in, then pull them out and give ‘em a good rub down with the dish towel, okay?’
‘Okay...’ Ivyanne eyed the bucket skeptically. She’d prepared herself to work the counter or pour drinks and to be frazzled and lost and possibly very embarrassed. But this task fell under menial, brainless labour. ‘Are you sure you don’t want my help up front? The line is so long…’
Adele glanced over at the line forming before the hostess station and Ivyanne absorbed the sight. Blurry eyed tourists in slightly wrinkled resort wear were making shows of inhaling the scent of frying bacon and eyeing the coffee machine with lustful gazes.
Early morning sunlight reflected off the pool behind them casting wavy, shimmering shadows off the low ceiling in the a la carte poolside area. They looked sleepy, hungry and potentially grumpy, and yet their postures were relaxed and their smiles the languid grins of people enjoying their summer vacations.
Adele and waved her hand dismissively. ‘On your very first day? I’d never do that to you. But all the same, I better get over there.’
‘Okay...’ Ivyanne wasn’t about to argue her way out of easy work. It was all about the baby steps, wasn’t it?
When Adele pranced off, Ivyanne carried the tub Adele had been struggling to lift over to the small table by the window and unceremoniously dumped in the silverware with a splashing clang. The sight of the ocean shimmering and swaying like a giant, royal blue flag in a gentle breeze during that virginal hour after sunrise on the other side of the boulevard beckoned to her. She eyes the rolling surf out the large window wistfully, feeling that pins and needles sensation prick up on her extremities again as she was taunted again with self-denial.
Like I’m not used to it by now? She thought, curling a lip in a mockery of a smile. My life is about delaying gratification, and always has been. And if one more fiancé dies on me, it probably always will be.
She turned back to watch Adele work as she blindly fished for cutlery with one hand, marveling at being there once more and how much it had changed. The Barefoot Bar was the epicenter of the Seaview resort. A large timber structure with a polynesian thatched roof, housed the large bistro/bar area on one side and a comically small function area on the other. Both rooms were joined by the kitchen, and a wet bar which circled the cold rooms between.
When Ivyanne had first come to the Seaview, the resort had been the cutting edge of holiday-chic, but now it looked tired: The gardens were too wild and overgrown, the thatching on the roofs of the bungalows were betraying bald spots and many areas, such as the golf course and tennis courts, were in dire need of some TLC.
Still, the bar had been cared for. Slate tiles extended from one end to the other, and the roof was high with exposed trusses and hanging paper lampshades in ocean colors. Floor to ceiling windows and glass doors lined every wall, bringing the sunshine in and allowing a breathtaking view from the top of the hill where it was perched, to the Cumberland Islands in the distance.
The glimpse of the islands made her heart seize painfully-on one of them, hidden from view and tourism-was her summer home. The one she had fled in her quest for independence, and the one she was missing dearly now.
She could fantasize that her parents were having breakfast in their colonial kitchen, talking about something funny they had seen one hundred years before while silently wondering how their daughter was holding up on the mainland.
Of course that wasn’t how it really was at that moment. Her mother had shooed her father off on yet another location shoot weeks ago, and QueenVana was probably sleeping in while Saraya prepared her organic green tea and answered the royal correspondence, ever the dutiful assistant.
Correspondence about me, and who I ought to marry, Ivyanne thought darkly. But then she blew her hair out of her eyes and resumed her task. Focus. Work now, swim later-stress next year.
She could compose her body-but not her thoughts. Memories of her fight with Ardhi the night before were weighing heavily on her mind. In the light of day, she saw that she had behaved appallingly. She’d been so swept up and overwhelmed by everything that she had lashed out, and had probably deeply wounded, her best friend.
She knew Ardhi would be furious with her for weeks, and she hated admitting to herself that the idea of him hurting, hurt her. Yes, he had changed everything between them- but he was still her Ardhi, her daily companion since she’d turned sixteen. She was betraying him as badly as he had her, by being so unforgiving about the whole situation. After all, there were worst things a person could do than love her.
‘Well good morning-uh-Ivyanne... isn’t it?’
Ivyanne looked up into the electric blue eyes of Pintang Kayu-Api and grinned. They were sporting identical white polo shirts and the identical grins of long lost friends, reunited at last, but for all purposes, they needed to behave like strangers. ‘Good guess,’ she said to the veteran land-lubber. ‘You must be psychic.’
‘Not really,’ Pintang winked, her pretty face was glowing. Like Ardhi, Pintang had been born to both Nordic and Indonesian parents, so although the shape of her almond eyes, skin tone and hair gave an initial ‘asian’ appearance, her facial features were aquiline-and there was no getting past those striking cerulean eyes. It was a delightful contrast. Ivyanne had always envied the exotic beauty of her mixed-race friends-it made her feel so dull in comparison.
‘You just have that look
about you...’
‘The well travelled, underfed and under-bathed backpacker look?’
‘Yeah, that one...’ Pintang winced. ‘First day-how you holding up?’
‘I couldn’t pull myself out of the shower this morning for an hour.’ Ivyanne held out her wet and trembling hand. ‘And as bad as this stuff smells, I’m tempted to dump the entire bucket onto my head, just to feel wet.’
Pintang nodded knowingly, then glanced around before lowering her voice to respond: ‘But you made it through the night.’
‘I almost didn’t,’ Ivyanne admitted, ‘then I picked a fight with someone and felt much better.’
Pintang’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Who?’
Ivyanne bit her lip. ‘Um... your brother....’
To her surprise, Pintang actually laughed. ‘Oh no! He was waiting for you, wasn’t he? How bad was it?’
Ivyanne chose her words carefully. Pintang was laughing so far, but her mood could alter if Ivyanne crossed a line. ‘Did you ever see that Hobbit movie? When the wizard guy was blocking the demon and banging a stick?’
Pintang’s laughter was the true definition of ‘pealing.’ Ivyanne relaxed with relief.
‘He is such a dork,’ Pintang confessed, wiping tears of laughter away. ‘I don’t envy you one bit right now.’ She sobered for a moment, a hint of melancholy creeping into her expression. ‘I mean, I don’t envy him either...’
Ivyanne dropped her gaze guiltily. ‘Yeah....’
Pintang grasped her hand. ‘I’m not here to be your guilty conscience. Naturally, I’m rooting for Ardhi because he’s my kin and I love him-but if it makes you feel better, barely anyone here cares who you marry or when.’
Ivyanne was grateful for that information. ‘And how many of us are here? Saraya wasn’t sure.’
‘Around seven, eight including you.’ Pintang said. ‘Most workers, a few on holiday. And all really excited to hang out with you.’
‘Well...’ Ivyanne was self-conscious about her celebrity. ‘Ok.’
‘Ivyanne-are you almost done?’
Ivyanne swiveled to face Adele, who had called out from across the room. ‘Getting there!’ she called back, mirroring Adele’s chirpy tone. She pulled out a fork and sighed under her breath. ‘First time I’ve ever felt the need to respond with; “Your Highness,” ’ she muttered, mostly to herself.
Pintang whispered: ‘I cannot believe you have to room with that-’ she made a face.
Ivyanne glanced over at Adele then back to Pintang. ‘She’s being very nice. Uh, at the moment anyway.’
Pintang snorted. ‘The only reason she’s being nice, is to get the tips. Why do you think you’re polishing cutlery while she’s doing the work of two people over there?’
Ivyanne laughed. Money was the least of her problems so Adele was doing her a huge favor. ‘That’s so orchestrated.’
‘Well, Miss Thing over there is a one woman symphony, if you catch my drift.’
Ivyanne didn’t. She’d been watching modern movies for the past week, preparing herself for the way humans spoke to one another in the twenty-first century, and trying to copying her mannerisms. But nothing Pintang had just said registered with her as actual english.
‘Um...no.’
Pintang smiled knowingly. ‘Do not trust her. She climbs everything to get to the top-boss’s, men, social ladders...and uses the women beneath her as foot holds. This is her third summer here, and she’s being so high maintenance, I could spit. In fact, even though I work here year round, she made the boss switch my cabin with hers, so she could have the bigger kitchenette.’
Ivyanne frowned. ‘What’s her problem?’
‘She wasn’t so bad last year.’ Pintang toyed with a strand of glossy black hair, the tips of which she had dyed hot pink, as she spoke: ‘She’s been dating the boss’s son on and off for awhile, and now that things are rocky and she’s not staying in his cabin, she’d decided to be a diva about it. And jealous over him too! Last week she told me that wearing such short skirts wasn’t going to get me her job.’ Pintang leaned forward and whispered: ‘He’s gonna be coming into this place as sole owner soon, so I guess she’s paranoid that one of us will try and steal him away.’ Pintang paused. ‘Have you met him yet?’
Ivyanne shook her head. ‘I haven’t met either manager. I was hired over the phone.’
‘Yeah well he’s not bad looking at all. Not in your league but Adele’s pretty possessive. He’s the night manager, so you’ll work with him a lot. Adele will sweat that.’
Jealousy. Ivyanne had started experiencing it’s effects firsthand back home. It made sense-both she and the heir to the resort were coming into positions of power-and people liked to be around that. It made the ones who had always been there, like Ardhi, nervous. And a bit crazy.
‘So maybe I should cut her some slack, like I didn’t for your brother?’
Pintang shrugged. ‘If you can get through summer without actually cutting her, I’ll applaud you.’
‘I don’t really have a choice but to play nice. I mean, it’s deal with one obsessive person or deal with twenty.’ Ivyanne sighed. ‘She’ll survive the summer. Just not sure that I will.’
Pintang squeezed her hand and looked into her eyes earnestly. ‘You will. You kind of have to, princess. We’re all depending on it.’ She grinned wickedly. ‘Besides, it’s fun. Hard labor and cramped living quarters aside, this resort can be a blast. And it’s about time you hung out with some of your subjects.’
Ivyanne was still focused on the way Pintang had referred to her. ‘Please..don’t call me princess around here. For one, we’re supposed to be strangers, remember? Secondly... well, I hate it.’
‘Sorry,’ Pintang said with a brief grin. ‘Just trying to remind you of how important you are.... for when Adele makes you feel like a nobody.’
Ivyanne laughed. ‘Thanks for that!’
‘Anytime! Anyway, I better get back to my own work. Remi finishes at eight, so if you don’t get to go for a swim before then, wait for her, okay? She’ll show you some of the better spots.’
Ivyanne didn’t need to be told where the best spots were-she’d done an awful lot of investigating over the years. But she smiled gratefully. ‘If I don’t get to go for a swim before then, I’ll probably be in a coma anyway so I should be easy to find.’
‘We’ll look under Adele’s shoe,’ Pintang joked.
‘Oh please let me know if you find it.’
Pintang paused, looking confused. ‘Huh?’
‘Never mind. Eight.’
Pintang waved and rushed off, moving with an ease and grace which could only come from years of living on the mainland. She trotted where Ivyanne plodded-and Ivyanne made a mental note to ask Pintang for advice on footwear to make the transition easier.
Ivyanne blew a raspberry and plunged her hands back into the bucket of vinegary silverware she’d yet to make a dent in. Something told her that nothing about this new lifestyle was going to come easily to her, regardless of what was on her feet.
⁓
Ardhi was awoken by a buzzing in his bulging pocket. He squinted one eye open and cringed when a ray of white sunlight blinded him. The mechanic chirp of the cheap mobile phone was loud and hostile and seemingly relentless, so he rolled onto his side on the warm sand and slapped the button to answer the call.
‘Hello?’ he croaked, pushing the speaker button and holding the phone out in front of him awkwardly. ‘Ivyanne?’
‘No butt head, it’s not Ivyanne.’ His sisters’ tone was brusque. ‘Is that how you always answer the phone? It would explain why people think you’re losing it.’
Ardhi groaned and leaned back against the large boulder which had been shielding him all night. ‘Pintang? Why are you calling me?’
‘The real question is-why are you answering?’ The disapproval in her usually gentle voice was unmistakeable. ‘If you were at the Cape, where you’re supposed to be, there wouldn’t be a signal.’
Busted. A
rdhi lay stared moodily at the crystalline water slapping against the oyster rocks near his feet. He’d kept a vigil from the sandy spot between the rocks all night-his position too high for the tide to breach. ‘You spoke to her?’
‘Of course I have.’ Pintang’s voice was full with self-importance, which was unusual for her. ‘I was assigned to check on her first.’
‘What did she say about me?’
He heard her curse under her breath. ‘Ardhi I can’t believe you followed her here! Do you know how desperate that looks?’
‘Well, I am desperate,’ Ardhi said quickly, ‘I don’t like her being here, okay, but the sooner she starts, the sooner she can come back.’
He heard his sister sigh. ‘Ardhi she left because she was suffocating! Now she’s come up for air, and you’re pushing her back under. Women don’t like to be followed, okay? It’s not attractive.’
Ardhi flinched at the word. ‘Following her? Now you’re saying it too? Last year, the phrase was ‘hanging out.’ Now I’m supposed to back off because others want in? I was here first! Why isn’t anyone calling Tristan Loveridge and Bane Londeree stalkers?’
‘Well, Bane’s giving her space, you know that,’ Pintang pointed out. ‘And Tristan is....’
‘What?’ His sister, and most of their women, had been in love with Tristan Loveridge since the dawn of his time. ‘Too hot to be annoying?’ Ardhi used the mainland euphemism for ‘attractive’ because it sounded the flakiest-which was exactly what Tristan was-a flake.
He heard his sister laugh. ‘I would also have accepted: “Charming” and “suave.” Bottom line-he’s not tailgating her, is he? In fact I don’t think he’s shown his face yet.’
Ardhi huffed in annoyance. The last thing he wanted or needed, was a lecture on how to be “suave” like Tristan the flake. ‘Pintang, I was kind of counting on you to be the one person who had my back here,’ he said sadly, ‘if you love me, couldn’t you try to make me feel better, instead of worse?’
