A Sunset in Sydney

by Sandy Barker

  About fifteen minutes’ drive beyond the resort and past signs for Big Beach—hardly an innovative name for a beach—we drove into a residential area and parked on the street. I looked at Josh again, but he was giving nothing away. “Come on,” he said. He got out of the car and I followed.

  He led me down the street along a dark-grey stone wall, then through an opening in the wall and down a set of rustic stairs, where we emerged onto a stunning beach.

  It was a small cove with golden-coloured sand and jagged black rocks which trailed into the water. There was an opening in the rock formations, almost a channel, where the water rushed to shore. Cupping the sandy cove was dense greenery, more black rocks, and a random assortment of palm trees.

  We weren’t the only ones there, though. There was a wedding party having photos taken, but we kept to the right of the beach and found a place to sit where we were out of the way. It was not long until sunset, and the sky was alive with burnt orange, pinks, and the lingering blues of the day.

  “Wow,” I said as I nestled in next to Josh. He put his arm around me, and I leant into him.

  “I thought you’d like this,” he said.

  “You’ve been here before?”

  “Uh-uh. First time in Hawaii, remember?”

  “That’s what I thought, but you drove us straight here, and you knew where the path was.”

  “Google. I looked it up before we came.”

  “Ahhh,” I said. “You’re full of surprises this trip.” I was glad that I’d come around on the whole “I hate surprises” thing, but I didn’t dwell on that thought as it was too close to my memories of James.

  “Good ones, I hope.” There was a hesitancy in Josh’s tone that made me lift my head.

  “Lovely surprises, very thoughtful ones.”

  I kissed his mouth with a “smack” and he touched his forehead to mine, closed his eyes, and sighed softly. “Sarah …”

  I had no idea if that meant, “Sarah, I’m falling madly in love with you,” or, “Sarah, this is the best vacationship ever.” I hoped for the former.

  The light had shifted quickly, as it seems to at sunset, and I turned to look out over the water. The sun was setting just north of the cove, which faced southwest, but the silhouette of the rocks and palm trees against the darkening sky was breathtaking. We sat silently, soaking it all in. Occasionally, the voice of the photographer permeated the cooling air, but mostly it was quiet.

  I rested my head on Josh’s shoulder and just breathed.

  It was one of the most peaceful moments I’d had in a long time. It wasn’t until later that night I realised Josh, always the photographer, hadn’t taken any photos of the sunset. He’d just been there with me in that moment.

  Chapter 14

  I was beyond excited for our side trip to Hana, although packing everything into my carry-on bag for the overnight stay was a little challenging—it’s not a big bag. I dressed for a day of driving and adventure, including hiking and swimming.

  I wore my bikini, a pair of quick-dry shorts, a tank top, and my runners—I was going for “Lara Croft meets outdoorsy chic”. In my bag, I packed a summer dress and a pair of sandals for dinner, a pared-back toiletries and makeup bag, a nightie, clean knickers, and a bra and a top for the next day. Oh, and a little clutch that went with the dress and the sandals.

  I put two beach towels from the resort into my beach bag along with two bottles of water, a bag of wasabi peas, a block of dark chocolate, a bag of Craisins, and two muesli bars. Sure, Hana was just on the other side of the island, but you never can be too prepared!

  “You two have the absolute loveliest time ever,” said Siobhan as we hugged her goodbye after breakfast. Her send-off made me a little sad she wasn’t coming with us.

  But only a little.

  “We will. And you have a lovely time at the spa and on your date.”

  She grinned. “You do know that the spa is just about getting ready for the date, don’t you?” she asked.

  “Of course!” I replied. “I had my own spa day before this trip. I went in looking like the great hairy unwashed and came out looking as gorgeous as I do now!” I could feel Josh squirming beside me as Siobhan belted out one of her huge laughs.

  “Okay, we’re going,” he said, picking up our bags. He crossed the lobby and headed outside, having called ahead to have the valet bring our car around. I left him to it. He’d probably had enough girl talk for the time being.

  I hugged Siobhan again. “We’ll be back in plenty of time to share a ride to the party.

  “Brilliant.” She grinned again. “It’s going to be mad fun!” I didn’t doubt it.

  I went to meet Josh out the front of the resort. “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey,” he said back, leaning down to give me a kiss. “Excited?”

  “I am.”

  “Me too.” I earned another kiss, which was interrupted when the valet, a man in his late-forties or early-fifties, pulled up with our car and greeted us with, “Aloha.”

  We returned the greeting and when we tried to put our bags into the boot, he shooed us away, lifting them both with one hand and making short work of it. I tipped him heavily, then we climbed into the car, and I tucked the bag with the beach towels and snacks behind my seat.

  I pulled up the route on my phone while Josh double-checked the seat and mirrors. The route was actually quite simple. We would drive north along the west coast, cut northeast across the top of the island, and then drive southeast along the east coast.

  I realised the valet was watching us with what seemed like an amused expression on his face. “So, you’re the navigator, huh?” he asked me, indicating my phone. I smiled my reply, even though it was Google doing the navigation. “Navigator through life,” he added, nodding his head sagely. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, as though he was offering some gem of wisdom.

  Josh and I stopped what we were doing, shared a quick look, then nodded politely at the valet. I didn’t think either of us were ready to be someone’s “navigator through life”. Maybe the valet assumed we were honeymooners. Still, it was a little heavy for first thing in the morning.

  “Ready?” asked Josh brightly.

  “Ready. Just go out to the highway and turn left.” Yes, Google could have told him that, but I liked having a part to play in our adventure.

  It was another beautiful day in paradise, and I was glad we’d chosen the convertible. It felt incredible to have the sun on my face and the wind in my hair, no matter how much of a cliché it was. And for the umpteenth time, I mentally pinched myself. Hawaii! I was in Hawaii, and it was stunning.

  I was content just watching the scenery go by, but after a few minutes Josh asked, “So, should we listen to some music or a podcast or something?”

  “Oh, sure. I’ve actually been meaning to get into podcasts, but I … well … haven’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s dumb, but I’m a little overwhelmed. There are just so many. And I don’t know what app to use.” I realised I must have sounded like an old person. Bugger. Most of the time I was with Josh, I wasn’t aware of our age difference and I didn’t want him to be either. “Have you got something we can listen to?” I asked brightly, taking the focus off how ancient I was.

  “Yeah, sure. I listen to quite a few. You might like ‘99% Invisible’. It’s about how good design is practically unnoticeable.”

  “Ooh, that sounds cool.”

  “Here,” Josh handed me his phone and gave me the passcode. “I’ve connected it to the car’s Bluetooth.” I gave him a look that said, ‘What?’ and he added, “So we can listen through the speakers.” Oh, right. I totally knew that. Okay, that’s a lie—I totally didn’t.

  He then explained how to navigate to the podcasts he’d downloaded. Eventually, I found the “99% Invisible” episodes and scrolled through, feeling far more tech-savvy than I deserved to.

  “Oooh, how about the one on the Sagrada Familia?” I asked. “Barcelon
aaaaa,” I half-sang Ed Sheeran as I did a little seat dance. “I love Barcelona—and the Sagrada Familia. Wowser—one of the most amazing places I’ve ever been.”

  “For sure,” he said with laughter in his voice. “I listened to that when it came out, but I’m happy to play it again. It’s probably a good intro for you.”

  “It changes all the time, you know, the cathedral.”

  “Yeah, they talk about that in the podcast.” I was amusing him, I could tell.

  “You know, I haven’t seen it in, like, ten years. It’d be worth going back. Maybe we could go—” I stopped myself too late, the words already out of my mouth. The thing was, we’d never talked about the next trip—or if there would even be one. It was like we had an unspoken agreement to see how Hawaii played out first.

  Josh laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, Barcelona’s definitely on my list.”

  Back-pedal or proceed like I’m just a travel buddy? A travel buddy would forge ahead, fearlessly exploring the possibility of travelling to Barcelona together. But I didn’t want to be a travel buddy. Too many moments passed, and even if I’d had some clever way to back-pedal, it would have been too late.

  Then a worse thought popped into my head.

  Oh, my god. Travel buddies plus fuck buddies equals vacationship. I was certain I was right. That’s how Josh saw us—as a seriously fucked-up equation.

  I pressed play on the podcast.

  I only half-listened to the first bit, my mind still in overdrive, but after a few minutes it lured me from my sickening thoughts. The episode was so engaging that I ended up enjoying it. When a second episode started up, one about the English road-sign system, I let it play, but at the end of that episode, I stopped the app.

  I didn’t mind listening to podcasts. It was better than talking myself into an emotional cul-de-sac or being inside my head with those awful thoughts, but I still hadn’t asked Josh about the whole “not-so-bigger life” thing. I racked my brain for ways to bring it up casually.

  So, Josh, how come you’ve stalled on the big changes you wanted to make? Why have you abandoned your own life philosophy? I came up with a big fat nothing, so we sat in silence—me agonising over what to say and Josh seeming not to care. I wondered what he was thinking.

  My vibrating phone interrupted my thoughts. Saved by the buzz.

  “Oh, hey! According to Google, this is officially the start of the Hana Highway. Look,” I said, pointing ahead of us, “there’s mile-marker one!” It was the most excited I’d ever been to see a mile marker, probably because the car was starting to get claustrophobic—my own doing—and we’d get to stop soon.

  “Yeah, that’s cool,” replied Josh.

  “Those waterfalls are in about five miles,” I said, using miles instead of kilometres for the American. When in Rome and all that.

  “Awesome.” Josh didn’t say anything else and as the road had started to snake, I let him concentrate on driving. Most of the turns were tight and when a car came from the other direction, both cars had to hug the side of the road. There were some worrying places where the side of the road was a wall, or a giant boulder, or a cliff dropping into the raging sea.

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t that dramatic, but it definitely wasn’t the best time to start a conversation about important life changes. About fifteen minutes later, we slowly approached the location of the waterfalls. Josh pulled the car off the road as much as possible and on my side, we were so close to a rising rockface, I would have to climb out on his side.

  “This is where it’s supposed to be,” I said, frowning—not a waterfall in sight.

  “Let’s check it out.” Josh looked at me. “You don’t trust your directions?”

  “Google’s directions,” I corrected.

  “Come on, we’ll figure it out.” I reminded myself that I was an adventurous traveller and to go with it.

  Josh took his phone out of the centre console and put it in his front pocket, and I leant over to put mine in my back pocket. We weren’t going to lock the car—there was no point with the roof being down—so phones were coming with us. Besides, we’d want to get photos.

  I reached around for my beach bag, then climbed out the driver’s side of the car. While Josh headed towards the closest bend in the road, which was where the falls were supposed to be, I retrieved the towels from the bag, leaving the snacks behind.

  “Sarah! You gotta see this!” Josh was leaning over a railing next to the road and I hurried over. From our vantage point, we could see three distinct waterfalls, side by side, all cascading into a small rockpool. They were officially called “The Upper Waikani Falls” and unofficially, “The Three Bears”. I liked the unofficial name, as there was a baby waterfall, a mama waterfall, and a papa waterfall.

  I searched for a pathway to the falls—there wasn’t one. There were just a lot of boulders we’d have to climb over to get down to the pool. Josh turned to me with a grin on his face. “This is incredible,” and then he was off.

  He turned to the left and jogged next to the railing, then skirted around where it ended, and started climbing down a giant boulder. I followed closely but decided to leave our towels at the top of the climb, so I could navigate it more easily.

  Josh had the height advantage, being six-one to my five-six, and I realised that for one of the boulders he’d climbed down effortlessly, I was going to have to sit and scooch down on my bum, which I did, my phone in my hand. The manoeuvre left the back of my Lara Croft shorts covered in dirt, which I was going to have to live with for the next two days, as they were the only bottoms I’d brought. Bugger.

  I met up with Josh at the bottom next to the rockpool. “Let’s go in,” he said, his eyes alight, and I grinned my agreement. Swimming under a waterfall was absolutely a bucket-list item. He slipped off his shoes and shirt—he was wearing his swimsuit as shorts—and I took off my tank top, shoes and socks, and soiled shorts.

  He took the first steps towards the rockpool.

  “Josh!” He stopped short and looked at me with a quizzical expression.

  “Your phone. It’s in your pocket.”

  “Oh, god, thank you.” He took it out and put it in a shoe. “It’s water-resistant, but not for full immersion—that would have sucked.” I put mine in my shorts pocket. “Oh shit, and this.” He held up the fob for the car—now, that would have sucked. With the fob and the phone tucked safely away, he took a step into the water.

  “God, it’s cold.” He stood still, not venturing any further. He started laughing, which made me laugh, and I approached the water’s edge, thinking it couldn’t possibly be that bad. I dipped a toe in.

  It was that bad. “Oh, my god,” I said, jumping back onto dry land. I looked down at Josh’s feet. “Are you getting used to it?”

  “Nope.” He looked towards the waterfalls.

  “What do you want to do? Skip it?”

  He looked back at me, a funny grimace on his face. “I kinda want to brave it.”

  I laughed. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I’m gonna do it.” And before I could say anything else, he charged into the rockpool. When he was waist-deep, he lunged forward and swam towards the falls. “Oh, my god,” he said, treading water. “Quick! Take a picture!” he called, his teeth starting to chatter. I rushed back to get my phone. “Please hurry!”

  “On it!” I retrieved my phone, then took a series of shots in quick succession. “Okay!” I called. Josh wasted no time and swam quickly towards me, style and form abandoned. When he could put his feet down, he climbed out of the rockpool, obviously being careful not to slip.

  “I should have brought the towels down. Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry. The air’s warm enough. I’ll dry off.” I went back to my pile of clothes and picked up my tank top to put it back on. “Hey. What’re you doing? It’s your turn.”

  “Oh, no,” I said, half-laughing. “There’s no way. That looked excruciating.”

  “Yeah, it pretty much was. I don’t think we�
��re going to see my balls for a day or two.” I laughed. “But you’re going in.”

  He was smiling at me and I was smiling back, but I couldn’t tell how serious he was. I shook my head no. He nodded his head yes. I shook my head again.

  “Think about it this way. You may never be back here again, and if you don’t go in, you will spend your whole life thinking about how you didn’t swim in that waterfall on Maui and you will regret it forever.”

  “Wow, that was quite the speech.”

  “Sarah.”

  “Josh.”

  He stood there watching me, his eyebrows raised.

  I took a moment to appreciate the sight of his body glistening with water, the not-too-bulky muscles of his arms and taut torso, the benefit of a few days of sunshine evident in his tan, and his wet swimsuit clinging to his thighs. He really was hot. I flicked my phone up and took the photo.

  “Hey!” he said in half-assed protest. “Stop stalling. You’re not getting out of this.”

  His posture and his expression hadn’t changed, and I actually felt myself give in. “All right,” I said.

  “Really?”

  “You’re surprised?”

  “Yeah.”

  “After all that ‘you’ll regret it for the rest of your life’ crap? How am I supposed to resist that?” He laughed.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I walked past him and handed him my phone. I charged into the water calling out, “Get ready to take a photo, Joshua. This is gunna be fast!” And then I was swimming in the (literally) breathtakingly cold water. He took the shots—me trying to look as natural and as happy as possible—and before I could blink, I was back on land. I think the whole thing took less than a minute.

  He wrapped his arms around me as I shivered on the shore. “I’m proud of you,” he said. I smiled into his chest.

  “I’m proud of both of us,” I said, leaning back so I could see his face. He kissed me softly.

  “And we never have to do it again,” he said.