by Sandy Barker
“Oh, my apologies,” said the waiter. He picked up the drink. “Sorry, ma’am.” The only thing I wanted him to apologise for was calling me “ma’am”—three times!
“No worries,” I said, behaving far more graciously than I felt. Josh leant back and closed his eyes. I pulled out my Kindle and got back to chapter one of my love triangle book.
A few minutes later the same waiter was back, this time with two of the mystery cocktails. I looked at him, baffled. He indicated towards the Irish woman. “From the woman over there,” he said, as he placed them on the table.
“Oh, how lovely,” I replied. Josh sat up and we both looked over at the woman who’d sent us drinks. She was smiling at us.
“Thank you. That’s very generous.”
“Just a nice way to say hello,” she said. “I’m Siobhan, by the way.” For some reason, I warmed to her immediately—perhaps because she was grinning at us in an utterly charming way.
“I’m Sarah and this is Josh,” I replied.
Josh waved and said, “Hi.”
“Would you like to join us?” I asked Siobhan, suddenly realising I hadn’t run it past Josh. I glanced at him and he seemed fine with it. He even added, “Yeah, come and join us.”
“Are you sure? I really don’t want to interrupt your afternoon. I just wanted to say sorry for the drink mix up.”
“Oh, that was no trouble. Please.” I indicated the lounger on the other side of mine. Siobhan gathered her things and her drink and made her way over.
“You’re too kind,” she said.
“So, what have we got here?” asked Josh, holding up his drink.
“Tequila Sunrise,” she said. “Sláinte,” she added, and we all clinked glasses.
I took a sip. Whoa. It was strong—like Duncan, our skipper in Greece, had made it and he was known for the kinds of cocktails that could fuel rockets. I liked it, though—a lot. I was starting to think the whole trip was going to be drinking cocktails while I worked on my tan—and sex. How could I forget the “lots and lots of sex” part?
“It’s tasty. Thanks again,” said Josh. Siobhan waved away his thanks as she took a big sip from her own glass.
“So, Siobhan, can I ask, you’re obviously Irish, but what was the toast? Slancha?” I asked.
“That’s right. It’s short for Sláinte mhaith, which means ‘good health’ in Gaelic.” She pronounced the whole thing as “slancha vha”. I had no idea what it would look like written down. Gaelic was tricky like that, in my experience. Although, I did know how Siobhan’s name was spelled despite it being said, “Shevaun”.
“Sláinte mhaith,” I said to myself, so I would remember it.
“So, what brings you to Maui?” asked Josh. At least he had remembered his manners, making polite conversation rather than grilling the poor woman about Gaelic.
“It’s my honeymoon,” she replied. I noticed that she lifted her chin a little when she said “honeymoon” and I detected a slight edge in her voice. Josh forged on, not seeming to catch either tell.
“Oh, congratulations. So where is your husband—or wife, sorry, I shouldn’t assume, uh, spouse?” I gave him an encouraging smile and he shook his head at me ever-so-slightly, clearly chastising himself.
“Well, I’m on my honeymoon, but I’m here alone, as I didn’t actually get married, because he didn’t show up.” She took a long pull on her straw.
I realised my mouth was open and when I looked at Josh, so was his. “Oh, my god, Siobhan, I’m so sorry.” And I was. I had only met this woman minutes before, but she seemed warm and lovely, and how awful to be left at the altar!
“That’s rough,” added Josh.
“Well, yes, but the holiday was already paid for and Maui was my choice, not his, so I thought, ‘feck it’, and I brought myself on my honeymoon.” She grinned at us. It was an infectious grin, and we all ended up laughing.
“Good for you!” I said. “That should be our toast—to taking yourself on a glorious holiday.” That’s what I’d done when I’d taken myself to Greece. It wasn’t after being dumped by my groom, but I had been in a post-break-up slump, needing something that was just for me.
Taking that trip was one of the best decisions of my life.
Siobhan responded to my toast by holding up her glass and we clinked ours together. “So, how long are you here for?” Josh asked.
“Eight glorious days. I got here yesterday, so one week more. And do you know how bloody cold it is in Dublin right now?” It was clearly a rhetorical question, so we waited it out. “Bloody freezing, that’s how cold. And serves Liam right, the eejit. He’s sitting there in his cold little flat all by himself, and I’m in paradise making new friends.”
“So, you’ll be here for New Year’s, then?” I asked.
“Yes, that was the whole reason for taking the trip now, so we could celebrate the start of the new year as husband and wife.” Yep, definitely an edge in her voice. It was obviously still a gaping wound, no matter how much good cheer she seemed to have.
It took the rest of that round and another round of cocktails to hear Siobhan’s story and for us to share an abridged version of ours. It took less time for me to fall hopelessly in love with her. She was effusive and genuine and quick to laugh, especially at herself. I had no doubt Liam was an eejit for not marrying her.
They had been together fourteen years—fourteen years!—when one night over fish and chips, he’d said, “Do ya tink we should get marrid?” Have you ever heard of a less romantic proposal? Siobhan was still beating herself up for saying yes, but at the time she hadn’t realised how much of a rut she was in.
“I have declared war on boredom,” she said. “How can we think that life is supposed to be an endless stream of watching rubbish TV, eating fish and chips for tea, and folding someone else’s pants? I used to be sooo much fun when I was younger.” She took the piece of pineapple from the rim of her drink and chewed on it.
“You know, when Josh and I met, we bonded over something similar. Josh calls it ‘having a bigger life’.”
He nodded, his brows knitting together. “I haven’t been doing such a great job of that, though.”
“No?” I asked at the same time Siobhan asked, “Why not?”
He spat out a wry laugh. To me he said, “No, I haven’t, not really,” and to Siobhan, “That is an excellent question. I’ve been asking myself the same thing and the truth is, I really don’t know. Fear, perhaps.”
“Of what?” she asked. She wasn’t letting him off the hook and, truth be told, I was with Siobhan. I wanted to know what he was so scared of that he’d let his own life philosophy fall by the wayside.
I was also baffled. In all the times we’d emailed and chatted, he’d never said anything like this. I’d figured that, like me, he was actively making changes in his life. He’d even mentioned some stuff about his job that had sounded really promising.
Josh shrugged and frowned again, but I wasn’t going to let it slide entirely. I’d ask him about his not-so-bigger life later.
“Well, at least you have this,” she said, indicating me and Josh. “You have each other.”
Did we, though? Maybe Josh’s great big fear, what was holding him back, was me. Yes, he was there on holiday with me, but maybe the thought of something more permanent, more meaningful, was keeping him rooted to the spot.
I didn’t dare look at Josh. I just sipped my drink and chewed on my straw. I didn’t want to be anyone’s great big fear.
Chapter 12
As a surprise, Josh had booked an excursion for the following day—something he’d snuck in while I was getting ready for dinner. We were going snorkelling at Molokini Crater. It was just off the western coast of Maui and was considered some of the best snorkelling in the world. Not only that, the waters between the coast and the atoll were great for spotting dolphins and whales, and on the way back we’d be stopping to look for sea turtles!
He told me at dinner, then added, “I hope you don’t mi
nd, but I told Siobhan and she’s going to book it too.”
“Oh, that’s great,” I replied, glad we had plans to see her again.
“You sure?”
“Of course! I adore her.”
“Oh good—I mean, I do too. She’s cool.” He took a bite of steak and with his hand over his mouth said, “She asked me about us, you know?”
“What do you mean?”
He swallowed the steak while I waited for him to explain. “Just about how long we’ve been together.”
Be cool, Sarah. “Oh yeah?” I feigned indifference and loaded up a fork with some grilled fish. “What did you tell her?”
“Just that we met travelling a few months ago and that we’re good friends. I wanted to clear up the idea that we were a couple.”
Oh.
“Oh, cool.” I added my very best this-is-not-fake smile.
“That’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, of course.” It’s. Not. Okay. I took a bite, even though my stomach had soured with the lie.
“I mean, we can’t exactly call it a relationship. More of a vacationship.” He laughed at his play on words and I nearly choked on my fish. What the hell was he talking about? “I heard that on a podcast. I thought it was a good description of us. Better than ‘travel buddies’, don’t ya think?”
I could only nod in response. He didn’t seem to notice that I lost my appetite after that. I sipped my wine, a riesling from Washington. It was over-priced, but tasty. It was also a decent salve for discovering that one of my boyfriends didn’t think we were in a relationship at all.
I had a sudden thought. “So, when were you and Siobhan talking about our ‘vacationship’?” The word felt awkward on my tongue, and I barely got it out.
“When you went to the bathroom.”
“Oh, right.” Mental note: fewer bathroom breaks.
Dinner conversation turned a little pedestrian after that, and it was my doing.
I just couldn’t get past the idea of Josh divesting himself from our budding romance, or at least what I thought was a budding romance. I’d been excited about starting the new year with Josh, sharing a new beginning. It was kind of like what Siobhan had said about her plans with Liam.
I had arrived in Hawaii thinking I’d throw myself wholeheartedly into whatever it was between us, but hearing how he’d described it to Siobhan, I realised we had very different ideas about what it was and what it could be. My plans to broach his admission about being stuck in his life were pushed to the far recesses of my mind. It was very clear that I was part of the problem. I was Josh’s great big fear.
I fretted most of the night, not able to sink into the blissful ignorance of a deep sleep. I woke often and a couple of those times, I watched Josh sleep, wondering what the hell was going on with him. Why had he gone ahead with our trip if all he wanted was to get laid? Couldn’t he do that back home? With someone who wasn’t falling for him? With someone other than me?!
Then I thought about those bitchy young women by the pool and I felt sick. I didn’t want Josh to be with someone else—anyone else. I wanted him to make me laugh, to plan thoughtful excursions for me, to make love to me. How could he still think of us as just buddies? Even if all the other stuff didn’t exist, when we had sex it was more than mere fucking.
At least it was for me.
I finally drifted off to sleep around four in the morning. Josh woke me with tea around seven. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said, kissing my cheek until I stirred into consciousness. “I made you some tea, just how you like it.”
I rubbed my gritty eyes and pushed myself up to sitting. I glanced at the clock and calculated that I’d had barely five hours of sleep, most of it broken. Ugh. Josh looked annoyingly refreshed. Double ugh.
“You’ve showered.” It was the first thing I thought to say. He laughed.
“Yeah, still on Chicago time. I’ve been awake a couple of hours already.”
Of course—jet lag. No wonder I’d had so much trouble sleeping. It also explained why I felt so groggy. I pushed aside all the ugly thoughts from my fitful night, because there was Josh smiling at me and he’d called me “gorgeous” and he’d made me tea. Tea how I liked it, just like a boyfriend would.
I picked up the mug and took a swig. I groaned. “God, I really needed this. Thank you.”
“Happy to do it. Take your time getting up. The ride to the boat doesn’t come ’til nine. We have time for breakfast, too, when you’re ready.” I nodded and drank more tea. This was a very different Josh from the day before, the guy who’d called us a “vacationship”. I took it as a sign that we had a good day ahead of us.
*
Siobhan and I leant against the railing at the front of the boat and watched a pod of dolphins swimming alongside us, darting in and out of the boat’s slipstream. “Oh, my god, look!” she repeated, each time pointing to a different dolphin.
Josh was on the port side of the boat taking photos with his fancy new phone—it had a better camera than an actual camera, apparently. “Josh,” I called, “Mykonos!”
“I know! I was just thinking that.” He grinned at me.
On our trip in Greece, we’d sailed into Mykonos accompanied by a pod of dolphins. It was an incredible moment, just like this one. There’s something quite magical about dolphins—they seem both cheeky and joyful. It is practically impossible not to grin and giggle like a fool when they’re so close by.
I caught Josh taking a photo of me with Siobhan and he lifted his eyes to me, then pursed his lips to blow me a kiss. Vacationship, my ass.
During my restless night, I’d briefly considered trying to get Siobhan’s take on the situation, but it didn’t take me long to decide against it. Her marriage had broken up before it had even started. It would have been selfish of me to burden her with my paltry worries. I’d have to work it out on my own.
So, when the dolphins eventually veered off, I couldn’t have been more surprised, or more grateful, when she quietly asked me, “So, what is going on with you and Josh?”
I glanced over at Josh and he seemed ensconced in his phone, probably looking at the photos he’d just taken. I didn’t think he could hear us from there, but even so, I lowered my voice. “Well, he told me that he told you that we’re just friends.”
“Yes, which doesn’t seem right at all considering what I saw of you two in the pool yesterday.” I was embarrassed. At the time, I hadn’t cared about strangers seeing our slightly-too-lascivious-for-public behaviour, but Siobhan had, and now she was our friend.
“Uh, sorry about that. We were probably a little, um, risqué.”
She waved my apology away. “No need. I’ve got to get my thrills vicariously at this stage. But why is he saying you’re just friends, when clearly you’re not?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I replied.
“And I’m not just talking about the physical stuff, but you seem like a couple. Even when you told me about how you met on the boat, you shared little looks and jokes and the like. You’re just gorgeous together.”
“So, it’s not just me, then? You think that Josh acts like we’re a couple.”
“Exactly. And then all that shite he was saying about just being friends. If you ask me, he’s deluding himself.” I was beyond relieved to hear Siobhan’s take on the whole thing. Just knowing I had someone to talk to, that there was something to talk about, made me feel better.
I looked over at Josh and watched him for a moment, Marie’s voice in my head. She’d cornered me on the last night of our sailing trip, asking when I was going to Chicago to see Josh. I’d quipped something about holiday romances and she’d replied—quite pointedly—with, “That boy loves you, Sarah.”
I’d played it down at the time, but her words had stuck, running through my head dozens of times since—especially any time I wanted out of my bizarre love triangle.
Yes, living a double love life was my own doing and, for the most part, I loved having Josh and James in my life. But
there had been some darker moments in the past few months when it had all got too much, and I’d just wanted to call it quits.
With James, it was imposter syndrome. What will happen when he discovers that I’m nothing like the woman he thinks I am? He’s far too worldly and sophisticated for me. Self-doubt really can be insidious.
And with Josh—well, before anything romantic happened between us, he’d been very clear that he didn’t want a relationship—ever. Like I’d thought at the time, when a man tells you he wants to stay single, it’s usually because he wants to stay single. So, why give your heart to someone who doesn’t want it?
In those dark moments, I would ask myself why I’d opened my heart in the first place. I had put a moratorium on romantic entanglements and a week into my trip to Greece I’d broken my own rule—twice.
But the simple truth was, when you feel something after being numb for so long—something real and vibrant and closer to yourself than you’ve felt in ages—you can’t ignore it. You can’t pretend that it was a holiday fling and just something for the memory books.
You have to see where it can go, what it can be, if it’s as wonderful in reality as it is in your memory. And I had felt something—with both of them.
But when I heard the word “vacationship” come out of Josh’s mouth, it raised all the doubts I had. What did it even mean?
Josh must have sensed me watching him, because he looked up and our eyes met again. He smiled and on reflex I returned it; he had a lovely smile.
He pocketed his phone and headed over, and I reached down and squeezed Siobhan’s hand. “Thanks. Let’s talk more another time,” I said quietly. She squeezed mine in return.
“I got some great shots,” said Josh. “I’ll share them with you later. I even got some video footage I think you’ll love.” He threw his arm around my shoulder and kissed the top of my head—boyfriend behaviour. Siobhan flashed me a tiny eye roll and I couldn’t have agreed more. This is getting ridiculous.