Six, Maybe Seven

by Katie George

  Chapter Twelve

  AT FIVE O’CLOCK sharply, Tyron and I met in the resort lobby, he looking dapper in a Hawaiian shirt (practical) and khakis. He even greeted me with “Arvo,” some Aussie saying. I wore a casual summer dress but had managed to curl my long red hair and carefully do my makeup. So we went arm-in-arm to his rental car, a little Prius thing, where he informed me that while he tried to be eco-friendly, most of the time he failed. “I can’t even routinely recycle. I think the biggest thing I do to save the planet is take care of my dog.”

  “You’ve got a dog? I’ve got a cat,” I said as I buckled up. I wasn’t sure where we were headed, but I had informed him that I needed to be dropped off at the chapel at seven for the wedding rehearsal.

  “Ugh, you’re a cat person,” he said, though it was a snicker.

  “Hey, you lied to me about being a professional surfer.”

  “I didn’t lie,” he corrected me, the thrum of gentle music playing through the stereo, “I withheld some information so that I could make an acquaintance with a pretty American girl, okay? You probably wouldn’t have agreed to meet me if I hadn’t been some genius with a surfboard.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I asked, turning to face him. The sun was still high in the sky, enough to illuminate us in the ending glow of the day.

  “What?” His accent caught me by surprise again, just because it was something I had never heard in person before. Meeting Australians in day-to-day life is like meeting aliens (and not illegal aliens, thank you very much); it just doesn’t happen that often.

  “Give me a break. You’re, like, gorgeous. Either I’m stroking your ego right now or you are clueless. Tyron, you are like the exact stereotype of an Australian male, at least in the Americas.”

  He grinned, knowing that I was stroking his ego. “Well, I’m glad you think so. Emma, everything you’re saying about me right now is.... Okay, maybe not the stereotype part, but you are gorgeous.”

  I blushed red and rolled my eyes. “Oh my gosh. Let’s talk about something else, shall we? Like, I don’t know, where we’re going to eat. I hope it’s not from the barbie.”

  “Oh, cut the attempts, Emma.” He smiled.

  Eventually, we settled at a quaint little sandwich shop overlooking the harbor, ironically like the previous day’s meal choice. As we sat and talked about our countries, I gathered that we were both interested in each other as a means of getting out of the normal to-do, the normal rhythm that seeped into our beings. It wasn’t like we were going to fall in love, or something like a romantic-comedy would profess; it was just gentle banter. A gentle break-away from normal. His added beauty was a bonus.

  “So, let’s see. You’re a casting assistant who gets to work with aspiring actors from all over. I’m a real estate investor, and we just happen to meet on the sands of Kauai. Somehow, we end up hanging out, letting loose, and just being ourselves. Weird, right?”

  “I guess. Is it coincidence or not, I’m not sure? You see, people are allowed to mingle with people. It’s the spirit of humanity.”

  “Not for a lot of folk, though. Most people hole themselves in their rooms when they’re not making a quid.”

  “What?” I choked on the piece of lettuce entering my esophagus.

  “You know, working?”

  “Working at a job?”

  “Ace!”

  I rolled my eyes, wondering if in reality, Tyron was my substitute for Jamie. I decided not. I wasn’t sure what I expected—Tyron and I to have sex or something, or just to have fun. The truth was, we didn’t have to do anything. It wasn’t like that. There was not any sexual tension between us, because when I looked into his eyes, I shamefully thought of Sam.

  After he paid for our meal, we decided to head back to the resort and take a stroll through the gardens surrounding the hotel. Tyron acted as my floral guide by revealing his fondness of gardening.

  “You see, this is a banana tree, right now teeming with banana blossom. It’s quite delicious if you ask me.”

  “Ooh,” I said.

  He pointed to a yellow bud which he called allamanda. It snaked to impressive heights, embodied by the length of its vines. There was anthurium, which could be all colors, but Tyron’s favorite was the crisp orange type. I was able to identify a small plot of black-eyed Susan, which Tyron ignored altogether, while he motioned me onward to a collection of blue ginger in a bit of shade. The sun was beginning to set, which highlighted the beautiful pink bougainvillea blooms. “Now, typically, bougainvillea thrive on leeward coasts, which would be on the opposite side of the island. Yet, for a resort like the Gardenia, there are professional gardeners who work their magic on the soil.”

  “It is beautiful,” I remarked, the sunset casting an even sweeter impression on the hundreds of flowers of which Tyron was informing me.

  “Look!” Tyron shouted, rushing over to a collection of yellow buds. “Evening primrose. They bloom every night at sunset before ripening to a rouge red and falling off in the morning.”

  “Primrose,” I whispered. “Now, that is a beautiful flower. It’s like a human. Blooming at night, dying in the morning after a hangover.”

  He stared at me, but I shook my head. “I was thinking of a friend. Jamie.”

  “Oh, Jamie?” He sidled up to me, knocking me down the little stone path we were on. “Is this fellow your romantic interest?”

  “The fact that you just said that. No, he’s like my brother. A brother from another mother.”

  “Oh, I see. Now, I don’t believe that is possible.”

  I stared at him, my eyebrow raising a few good inches. “Tyron, do not even think like that. Jamie is never, ever going to be my lover. He’s my best friend. Trust me, we kissed once. It was as icky as…I don’t know, eating a beetle.”

  Tyron eyed me like he had eaten a few beetles in his life. “Emma, the boy must be in love with you.”

  “I’m telling you that’s not possible.”

  “Em,” he whispered into my ear, chilling me. The glimmer of vivid pinks, reds, and oranges on the horizon was my own personal lightshow. “You do know that you’re sun on snow, okay? Wow, that sounded so stupid. I think I got that from a song. Anyway, when I first met you, I thought, ‘Yeah, I’d like to be with her.’ But our relationship isn’t like that.”

  “Exactly why Jamie and I are not…” I was trying not to think too much on his poetic analogies.

  “Emma, we are practical. We know nothing could happen because we probably will never see each other again. Yet this man Jamie you speak of…”

  “Tyron,” I said, raising my eyebrows. “Jamie is dating someone else. Plus, like I said, we kissed. Once. We’re never going to do that again.”

  Tyron leaned down and suddenly his lips were on my own. I hadn’t realized he was so close to me in our little bicker. I felt my hands tighten around his neck, landing against the shoulders. He leaned into me. Quickly, he drew away, his eyes bright like stars, a grin on his lips. “You taste sweeter than honeydew.”

  “Do I?” I asked, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. I pulled away, feeling my heart rumble. “That was…good.”

  He turned to the sunset. “You know, Emma, maybe we were brought together today to have a heart-to-heart.”

  “About Jamie?” I furiously asked, unable to fathom the thought of Jamie being my one true love. That just wasn’t possible. It never was.

  He shook his head, and then nodded. “You know, maybe. Truth is, I see it in your eyes. You’re young, and so am I. You love someone else, and I do, too.”

  “Tyron!”

  “Let me finish, Emma. You may not think you love Jamie yet, but I see it in your eyes. Someday, you will realize it. Maybe not today, maybe not when he’s with another girl, but someday you will.” He cleared his throat, and I knew something poignant and real was about to roar through his vocal cords. “My grandmother gave me this sage advice. I never thought I’d need it, but even if I do or don’t, I believe you do. She was
a fighter, that one. One day, we were sitting on the porch, and she looked at me and said, ‘Tyron, I’m not the one for you. It’s okay to admit that. I was never your one. I don’t have to be. But please, promise me, when you meet her, when you meet the one, you won’t let her go.’

  “You see, Emma, she wasn’t saying this because she wanted to be my lover. She said this because she knew that while I needed her in that moment, someday another woman would take her place. When I met you, I didn’t realize we would become friends like this, but we did. Emma, whatever you do, don’t let go of who you are, okay? Truth is, again, we’re young. We should be living in the moment—which is what we’re doing right now.”

  My heart was fluttering like a flapping ladybug’s wings. “I like you, Tyron. I really do.”

  “I like you, too, Emma.”

  We stopped under a thick clump of mango trees, their leaves like plumage protecting an ethereal, dusky glow. The air was still sweet, paradise. Tyron’s green blue eyes were a paradise of their own as we sold our souls. We knew the impracticality of a relationship like ours, but it didn’t mean we couldn’t enjoy each other while we still could.

  “What’s her name?” I asked suddenly, my heart beat slowing down.

  He turned to me, his arms tensing up. “Yvonne.”

  “Is she still available?”

  “I reckon she is,” he said, his voice soft. “We were together six years. We gave it a fair go. But, like all things, we grew apart. I didn’t heed my grandmother’s advice. You see, I let her go.”

  “Tyron, don’t do this to yourself.”

  “But I did. And I’m warning you not to do the same.”

  All I could do was smile, hug him, and hold his hand as we walked back to the resort. As we stood in the lobby, where the rest of the wedding party was congregating, I took his hands to my chest and said, “Promise me you’ll find her, no matter where she is, and tell her what you told me. You’re very much in love with her. You thought I was Yvonne, Tyron. That is why you came for me.”

  “Why…”

  “I believe so. You think I’m in love with Jamie; well, you yourself are in love with Yvonne. Go after her.”

  While I sat in the van, not sure whether I’d see Tyron McKenzie again, I contemplated his little observation. I decided assuredly that he did love Yvonne and did think I was like her. But as Sena hummed beside me, I wondered in the darkest parts of my mind, Jamie?

  My heart continued to thump, Sam, Sam, Sam. It was more than likely it was confused.