A Sunset in Sydney

by Sandy Barker

  We replied, “Aloha,” in unison and Keone asked for our drink orders. I ordered a Bombay Sapphire gin and tonic and Josh added, “Make that two.” Sure, we had a bottle in the mini-bar upstairs, but our date with Siobhan took priority over having sundowners on our balcony.

  Keone moved down the bar to make our drinks. “So, Keone, huh? You lining up tomorrow night’s date?” I asked, pretending to give her a pointed look.

  Her response was to laugh. “Maybe. You never know.”

  “I’m beginning to think you could charm the pants off anyone,” I said. Josh chuckled.

  “Well, here’s hoping,” she replied. “I had fourteen years of not getting the pants off Liam as much as I’d have liked, so I’ve got a lot to make up for.” Josh laughed aloud at that. Keone came back with our drinks and Siobhan told him to charge them to her room.

  “You’ve got to stop buying us drinks, Siobhan,” said Josh.

  “I absolutely do not. Meeting you two has made this trip. I’d have been propped up here in this very spot the whole time if I hadn’t met you.” I was happy to hear that she liked us as much as we liked her. “We should have a name.”

  “A name?” I asked.

  “Yes. You know, like Brangelina, but for the three of us.” We were quiet and I trawled my mind for the perfect combination of our three names. After a few moments, Siobhan beat me to it, declaring, “Joshivarah!”

  “Oh, my god, that’s hilarious,” I laughed.

  She ignored me, donning a compelling faux serious tone. “We shall from herein be known to all and sundry as ‘Joshivarah’ and no one shall put us asunder.” I wondered how long she’d been at the bar, but then I realised this was Siobhan. She was probably more drunk on life than she was on cocktails; I found her verve infectious.

  The talk turned to our work lives and we discovered that Siobhan was a teacher like me. Unlike me, however, she worked in a part of Dublin where many of her students were in need of firm guidance to keep them out of trouble. I taught at a Catholic school where the kids had fairly good manners and were only occasionally little ratbags. I admired her for undertaking what was clearly challenging work.

  When Josh said he was a software developer, her response was hilarious. “Oh great, one of those super-smarty-pants people, and here I am still with a VCR in my front room.”

  “You do not have a VCR,” he said, his eyes narrowing.

  “I do! And when you come to Dublin to visit me—and you must—and when you do, you must stay ages and ages—you’ll see for yourself!” She punctuated her little speech with raised eyebrows and a sip from her drink. Josh laughed. I could tell he was falling for her as much as I was.

  When the time came for Siobhan to meet Paddy, we saw her off with a kiss on the cheek from me and a hug from Josh. “Do everything I wouldn’t do,” I called out after her, as she strutted across the lobby. Her reply was a hearty laugh and a wave over her head.

  “So that leaves us,” said Josh, leaning in and nuzzling my neck. It tickled, like the fish earlier in the day, and I shooed him away. He laughed good-naturedly, and I gave him a smile to let him know I was only kidding.

  “Actually, it’s got to be time for dinner. I’m starving,” he said. “I found a sushi restaurant online that’s not too far. It’s got great reviews.”

  “I would kill for some sushi.”

  “Revenge for all those fish nibbling at you?”

  “Something like that.”

  *

  When the taxi arrived at the restaurant and it turned out to be Morimoto Maui, I smacked Josh on the arm.

  “Ow, what was that for?”

  “You didn’t tell me we were coming to an Iron Chef’s restaurant!”

  “Probably because I don’t even know what that means.” His confusion looked genuine.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll explain later, but we might not get in without a reservation.”

  “Oh. I just picked the sushi place that got the best reviews.”

  I couldn’t blame Josh. I could, however, be annoyed with myself. How had I missed that we were staying just down the road from a world-renowned sushi restaurant? The taxi driver drove into the parking lot, which was full—not a good sign. I paid him and we got out.

  “I just realised it’s Friday night too,” said Josh. “I’m really sorry about not getting a reservation.”

  “Don’t worry. I should have done my research.”

  “Well, let’s just see if we can get in, okay?” I nodded, even though there was no way we were getting in.

  We got in, but only by agreeing to sit at the sushi bar, squished together at the very end next to the door. Quite honestly, I would have agreed to sit in the parking lot if I got some world-famous sushi; I was ravenous. And did I mention the Morimoto was the executive chef?

  As expected, the restaurant was buzzing, but once we were seated, we were served very quickly. We each ordered an Asahi, then read over the menu. When the waiter brought our beers, Josh asked, “Is there something in particular you’d recommend?” One of the sushi chefs, who was assembling sushi right in front of us, overheard the question.

  “The crispy salmon skin roll,” he said, continuing the sushi making.

  “Oh yeah?” replied Josh. “Good?”

  “Like the bacon of the sea,” the chef replied. He nodded at us as though he’d shared a trade secret.

  We ordered the crispy salmon skin roll and several others, which I couldn’t name if I tried, because when I tasted the crispy salmon skin roll, I forgot about all other sushi in existence.

  “So, you really know who this guy is?” asked Josh as we sipped our Asahis, the second for each of us.

  “Who? The chef? Yeah. For sure. Haven’t you ever seen Iron Chef? The American one, not the Japanese one.”

  “Mmm, nope, neither.” He was quick to add, “but it’s your thing, right? You’re into cooking shows?”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I’m into food. I’ve met a few celebrity chefs. I even collect cookbooks.”

  “Do you cook a lot?”

  “Well, nothing super fancy during the week—that whole ‘living by myself’ thing—but I like having people over and I’ll cook something extravagant then. And you’re not really supposed to do this, but I usually try something I’ve never cooked before.”

  “What do you mean, ‘not supposed to’?”

  “You know? It adds to the pressure when you’re cooking for other people if you don’t know how it’s gunna turn out—you’re supposed to cook something that’s a sure thing.”

  “So why try something new?”

  “I like to live on the edge,” I said, laughing at myself. “No, really, it’s the best way to expand my repertoire. And most things turn out.” He nodded in appreciation.

  “It’d be nice to have you cook for me sometime—something other than toast, I mean.” He was referring to our time on the boat. Of everyone, I’d spent the most time in the galley, but I was either making a mountain of buttered toast or assembling platters for lunch. I hadn’t done any real cooking on that trip.

  Remembering that time almost made me miss the thought behind Josh’s comment—almost. He wanted me to cook for him sometime, as in sometime in the future. Huh, so he did think about us that way. My mind was a little fuzzy from the gin and the beer, but I was lucid enough to steer us away from his revelation. I’d unpack it later.

  “You know, I’ll happily sit and read a cookbook,” I said, redirecting our conversation.

  “You’ll read a cookbook?”

  “Yeah, it’s like porn for foodies.”

  “So, you just read them for the recipes?” he said, teasing me.

  “Oh, no, I look at the pictures too.”

  “Ooh, that’s nasty,” he said, playing along.

  “We need to get the check.” I raised my eyebrows at him, eliciting a grin before his hand shot into the air to get the waiter’s attention.

  I knew
we’d have to discuss our future at some point before leaving Hawaii, but not on a date and not after several drinks.

  *

  Later than night, we were sitting on our balcony in the fluffy white bathrobes we found hanging in the wardrobe, drinking “home-made” gin and tonics. I could just make out the coastline against the inky-blue sky and it wouldn’t be long until it was blanketed by blackness. A warm, soft breeze, which smelled of frangipanis, played with the curls around my face. I could get used to being here.

  “Needs lime,” said Josh, regarding his drink.

  “It does.”

  “But it’ll do. The view makes up for it,” he added.

  I kept watching the vanishing light, then looked up at the stars as they started showing themselves. “It is beautiful here.”

  “I meant you.”

  I looked over; he was watching me. “Oh, um, thank you.”

  “Wanna go back inside?”

  “Round three?”

  “Is that too much?”

  I giggled. “Too much? No, we’re not having too much sex, Joshua.”

  “Too little?” I shook my head, the giggle turning into laughter. He smiled, then stood and pulled me up into an embrace, kissing me. “You’re so sexy when you laugh,” he whispered, his lips brushing mine as he spoke.

  I forgot all about my gin and tonic, and the stars, and Hawaii.

  He stepped back from me, took my hand, and led me into the bedroom. Standing next to the bed, he enveloped me in his arms, his mouth on mine, the intensity of his kiss building. His hand caressed my hair and he entwined his fingers, pulling me deeper into the kiss. I could feel the strength of his other hand on the small of my back. His mouth left mine only long enough to kiss my neck, trailing down to my collar bones.

  He pushed my robe off my shoulders, and it fell to the floor. Then he shrugged out of his own. Our bodies pressed together and I ran my nails lightly along the length of his back. He moaned into my skin, his mouth exploring lower as he took a nipple into his mouth and teased it with his tongue.

  I could form no thoughts; I could say nothing. I was completely lost in the sensation of him. And I wanted him inside me. Badly.

  “Josh,” I whispered, breathless.

  He didn’t answer. He knelt on the bed as he lowered me onto it, then reached past me to get a condom from the bedside table. He put it on and covered the length of me with his body. For a fleeting moment before he entered me, I wondered who this Josh was and where he’d learnt to do all that.

  It was the sexiest sex we’d ever had.

  *

  “So, your date with Paddy—was it everything you hoped?” I asked Siobhan. She’d joined us for breakfast, ordering tea even before she sat down. She held up one finger. “We’re waiting for the tea to arrive, aren’t we?” She nodded almost imperceptibly and Josh and I exchanged a look.

  The waiter returned soon after with a teapot and poured Siobhan a cup. She stirred in a heaped teaspoon of sugar and seemed to look around for milk. We were in America, where they serve tea with lemon—yuk. I looked up at the waiter. “We’ll need some milk, too, please.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said before disappearing at warp speed. Had I been quick enough to catch him, I would have grabbed his ear and twisted it, telling him never to call me “ma’am” again. He returned moments later with a small jug of milk.

  Siobhan, usually so gracious and full of life, didn’t even acknowledge the waiter. Instead, she tipped half of the milk into her tea and, not even bothering to stir it, took a giant gulp. She sat back in her chair and, only then, took her sunglasses off.

  “Late night?” I teased gently. I was rewarded with a small smile and I was pleased to see that no matter how tired or hungover she was, her good humour was still intact.

  “You could say that, yes.” She took another gulp of tea. “I’ll be right as rain when this kicks in.” I’m all about the restorative powers of tea, so I completely understood.

  “So, what time did you get in?” asked Josh.

  “Five.”

  “Five this morning?” I asked, incredulous. Siobhan was a few years older than me and people my age did not stay out until five in the morning. And if we did, we didn’t roll out of bed until at least noon. It was 8:00am.

  She nodded again but said nothing. I’d only known her a short time, but she was usually a lot chattier. She must have had a huge night.

  “So, lots to drink then?” asked Josh, probing. I threw him another look, this one to silence him.

  Siobhan drained her cup and signalled to the ever-present waiter to bring more. He was clearly a smart guy and had already foreseen the need, refilling her cup almost as soon as she lifted her hand to wave him over. She doctored it with milk and sugar and took a sip. By now, I was on the edge of my seat.

  “It was a brilliant night,” she said, finally and very, very quietly. “There was drink, yes, but not as much as you might think. But the best thing was that there was sex, lots of lovely, lovely sex.” And then she threw her head back and laughed that infectious Siobhan laugh, the kind that inhabited her whole body. Josh and I couldn’t help but join in.

  “Oooph,” she added. “I’m not even hungover, just tired. We did drift in and out of sleep through the night—you know, in between. I’ve probably slept about three hours, though, hence the need for gallons of tea.” She made a wide-eyed face that made me laugh some more. “I had him drop me off on his way to work.”

  “He goes to work that early?” asked Josh.

  “Some days, yes. Apparently, they do these sunrise sailing trips.” Josh scrunched his face up. I was with him. I was a morning person—I was usually at the gym by six—but I wouldn’t want to start work that early.

  “Oh, and I meant to tell you,” she said animatedly. Clearly, the tea was hitting the spot. “There’s this massive party on New Year’s Eve at a beach house near here. A group of the boys who work on the boats have rented it for the weekend, and we’re invited to the party.” She grinned and raised her eyebrows a few times.

  “Are you sure? We wouldn’t want to impose,” I replied.

  She tutted away my concern. “Don’t be silly. We’re Joshivarah. You’re coming.”

  Josh caught my eye. “What d’ya think?” I asked him.

  “Well, we don’t really have definite plans—I thought we’d just have dinner here, maybe go for a walk on the beach, crack open some champagne in our room.”

  “Sounds very romantic, but you’re coming with me. Not quite as romantic, but I promise ye, it’ll be mad fun.” She smiled wickedly.

  We spent the rest of the day alternating between dips in the pool, dips in the ocean, hanging out by the pool, and sipping a handful of cocktails. Don’t ask how many cocktails there are in a handful, because I lost track. But for most of the afternoon, I had a nice buzz on.

  I also had about fifty photos entitled, “view from a sun lounger”. I posted a few obligatory photos on Facebook, expecting the usual jokingly-jealous-but-not-really-joking comments. My favourite photos were the ones that looked up into the palm trees with the brilliant blue sky as a background. There was something about that sight, combined with the fragrance of tropical flowers, the salty breeze, and the warm sun on my skin that made me unbelievably happy. That and getting to share it all with Josh.

  Siobhan joined us post-lunch after a well-deserved nap.

  When she arrived, Josh had his laptop out and we were looking into accommodation in Hana on the east coast of Maui. We were driving there the next day, staying overnight, and driving back the following day. It was only about seventy miles between our resort and Hana, but the road was winding and there were lots of places to stop along the way. It could take anywhere from several hours to the whole day.

  “So, you won’t be staying here tomorrow night, then?” Siobhan asked after we told her our plans.

  “No, we won’t,” I said. I wondered if she was wangling an invitation to join us. As much as I loved her, I was hoping
to have some time alone with Josh.

  Josh must have been thinking along the same lines. “I hope you won’t miss us too much,” he said. I thought it was a sensitive way to make it clear we were going on our own, but that we were still, proudly, two-thirds of Joshivarah.

  Siobhan replied with a hearty laugh. “I love you two, you know I do, but I have plans with Paddy, so was trying to find a way to break it to you gently.”

  “Ahhh,” Josh and I replied in unison. “Got it,” Josh added. “I think we’ll be okay, just the two of us.”

  I was really looking forward to our side trip. I love exploring when I travel and so far, we’d seen a lot of the resort and some of the west coast of Maui, but not much else. And, taking a long drive with Josh was a chance to talk—about life, the universe, and everything, and maybe even about us.

  *

  Later that afternoon, we were standing in the lot of the car rental place, deciding which car to get. We’d left Siobhan to bask in the afternoon sun with the promise that we’d meet up with her for dinner.

  “Why not the Mustang? It’s a convertible.” asked Josh.

  I made a face. “Old Mustangs are cool. The new ones are …” I couldn’t find words that sounded nicer than “ugly” or “boxy”’, so I just made a more extreme face.

  Josh rolled his eyes at me. “If you weren’t so cute, you’d be annoying,” he teased. That was probably true. “They’ve got an Audi convertible. It doesn’t cost much more than the Mustang. How about we just get that?” I jumped up and down and clapped my hands. I’d never driven an Audi.

  We finished the paperwork quickly, and Josh drove us back to the resort. At least I thought we were going back to the resort. When we passed it, I gave him a questioning look. “It’s a surprise,” he said, smiling.

  Another surprise. Josh was being very boyfriendly for someone who didn’t consider himself to be my boyfriend.

  As he drove, I watched the coastline out the passenger window. Maui was so beautiful, especially when everything was bathed in the golden hue of the late-day sun. It was incredible visiting somewhere that was even more impressive than it looked in photos or on film. It was everything I’d hoped and far, far more.