The Suite Life, page 15
I’m taken aback, noticing a hint of something in Donnie’s tone.
‘Oi, there is nothing wrong with the name Jeff,’ I retort, laughing it off.
‘Not if you’re seventy, listen to the radio and hide from your wife in your shed,’ Donnie jokes.
‘It’s not like you hear the name Donnie every day, is it?’ I counter, a teasing smile playing on my lips.
Donnie laughs at me, shaking his head.
‘I do,’ he reminds me, and I can’t help but laugh too.
Duh. Because that’s his name.
This is what I love about hanging out with Donnie, it’s so easy, everything is so much fun, and the gaps between bursts of laughter only ever seem to get shorter.
‘So where is Jeff taking you?’ Donnie inquires, his tone a curious blend of casual and interested.
‘It’s a surprise, apparently,’ I reply. ‘Something outside the resort – I’m excited to see more of the island.’
But as I glance at Donnie, I catch some peculiar shifts in his mannerisms. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say there’s a hint of jealousy in his eyes.
‘He could be the answer to my wedding date problem,’ I remind him softly, hoping to ease any tension I might have unintentionally created.
Donnie opens his mouth, as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. Before he gets a chance to say anything, the spa employee reappears and, oh my God, she must have heard my one wish, while she was delivering our drinks.
She presents us with the biggest plate of nachos I have ever seen – a genuine mountain. Layers of crispy tortilla chips, generously coated in gooey melted cheese, adorned with jalapeños, tomatoes, salsa, guacamole – it even has the pineapple. I want to plunge my face into them and scoff them down.
You’ve got to hand it to them; they are seriously on the ball with this stuff. If I were actually G. G. Marsden, I would be well and truly schmoozed.
Donnie and I dive into the nachos, our crunching briefly silencing any lingering tension. We don’t speak – but that could just be because we’re hoovering the food, or maybe it’s something else. Whatever is going on, I can’t quite put my finger on it. I guess I’ll have to try to work it out.
28
I smile at the view as I watch the sun begin to set from my bedroom window. Bursts of orange and bright pink interrupt the blue sky, slowly taking it over as the evening draws in.
I’ve done something similar myself, swapping my yellow sundress for a navy-blue wrap dress ahead of my dinner date with Jeff tonight. I’ve washed my hair and applied date-levels of make-up, finishing everything off with silver jewellery and a generous spritz of perfume. I’m going for elegant and polished, but hoping that it doesn’t look like I’m trying too hard at the same time.
I switch from admiring the sunset to checking myself out in the full-length bedroom mirror, doing one last sweep, making sure that I am the best version of myself that I can possibly be – whatever that is. I don’t know, I guess I’m nervous, not just because this is a date, and I’m not ideal at those, but because Jeff might be my best shot at a date for this wedding.
Just as I’m about to grab my clutch, I hear a knock at the door. I head downstairs and open it to see Lucy standing there, her face like a tropical storm.
‘So you are still here then,’ Lucy says sarcastically, smiling just enough to take the edge off.
‘Still here,’ I reply. ‘As though I’d go anywhere else right now.’
‘Yes, because you’re not acting out of character at all,’ she replies. ‘Are you going to invite me in?’
I laugh, stepping to one side so that she can come in.
‘What’s up, Lucy?’ I cut to the chase. ‘You’re being weird.’
‘I’m being weird?’ she replies. ‘Gigi, we’re on holiday together, and we’re barely seeing you. Catching a glimpse of you is like spotting a rare Hawaiian bird.’
I laugh.
‘Sorry, I’ve just been busy, making the most of the resort and stuff – this is my one holiday this year,’ I remind her.
‘And my wedding,’ she points out.
Fair enough.
‘You’re right, sorry, I’ve just been getting a bit carried away,’ I tell her. ‘Let’s make some plans to do some things together.’
‘Are you joining us for dinner tonight?’ she asks, looking my outfit up and down.
‘I’m busy tonight,’ I tell her, practically wincing, because I’m only proving her point.
‘Busy?’ Lucy scoffs.
‘I’m seeing a friend,’ I reply.
‘We’re on holiday, Gigi, and we’ve been here a matter of days,’ she says in disbelief. ‘How do you have friends here already?’
‘I make friends fast,’ I say with a smile and a shrug.
‘No, you don’t,’ she replies.
You can always count on your sister for a dose of reality.
Lucy chuckles, her eyes scanning me as though I really were some kind of rare bird she had never seen before, that she wasn’t sure if she needed to fear or not.
‘Seriously, Gigi, who are you, and what have you done with my sister?’ she asks me.
I playfully roll my eyes.
‘I’m just… cracking on with things,’ I say simply. ‘You’re all always telling me I need to get my life back on track after, you know, everything that has happened.’
‘Is this your break-up just properly hitting you?’ she asks. ‘Do you need help?’
‘I need to go to meet my friend for dinner,’ I tell her with a laugh.
‘Okay, okay, fine. Look, I’m not saying it’s a bad change, it’s just unexpected,’ she explains. ‘I’ll leave you to it, just promise me you’re all right.’
‘I promise I’m still me and I’m all good,’ I reassure her. ‘Let’s catch up tomorrow, yeah? We can all do something fun, together.’
Lucy nods, giving me a half-hug.
‘Tomorrow it is,’ she says. ‘Message me a plan. And tonight, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’
‘You’re getting married, that doesn’t leave much,’ I point out with a laugh.
Lucy glances around the suite with wide eyes, moving on now that she’s sure I’m okay. She stands in the open doorway in the lounge and, for a few seconds, she just enjoys the cool breeze.
It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, to see Lucy looking so content. Her hair and her sundress blow lightly in the breeze, making her look a little like a Hollywood starlet standing in front of a wind machine.
I know it sounds strange, but getting married really suits her. There’s this undeniable glow, a mix of happiness and excitement, that lights up her eyes. The dress, the setting, and her beaming expression all come together to create this picture of pure happiness. It’s one of those moments where you look at someone and you can’t help but think: ‘Yep, she’s exactly where she’s meant to be,’ and, in the nicest possible way, I am so envious. I really want what she has and, stupidly, right now, I’m looking for anything but. Imagine if I put the same effort into finding love as I did trying to find a wedding date – I would probably be going to the wedding with someone who did actually care about me.
‘Okay, this place is unreal,’ she blurts. ‘Like something out of a movie. Seriously, Gigi, how did you swing this?’
I shrug my shoulders as I smirk ever so slightly.
She nudges me with her elbow.
‘Your mystery date?’ she asks.
I shake my head, playing it coy.
‘Maybe we could all come to you, tomorrow,’ Lucy suggests. ‘Seeing as though you basically have your own place here.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ I practically cackle. ‘This is the only place I’m safe from Nathan and Sunshine – this place is my sun cream.’
Lucy rolls her eyes as she laughs off my comments.
‘Sunshine isn’t that bad, is she? I know, she’s a bit full of it sometimes, and I’ll never forgive Nathan for dropping you like he did, but we’ve all moved on, right?’
The look in her eyes suggests that suddenly she isn’t so sure.
‘Don’t worry, I’m just messing around,’ I insist. ‘It’s nice in here, isn’t it?’
Lucy walks over to the bifold doors that look out over the private pool area.
‘It’s more than nice,’ she says. ‘It’s fit for royalty. Are you sure your date isn’t…?’
Her voice trails off. It’s like she knows it’s a ridiculous question, but she can’t quite rule it out.
‘Just wait and see,’ I insist with a laugh.
‘You know this is weird, right?’ she checks, raising an eyebrow. ‘And that you could tell me, if something was wrong.’
Lucy knows me better than anyone in the world, and this situation is undeniably sketchy. I wonder if even Lucy is beginning to doubt my version of events now. This is her wedding week, she’s supposed to be happy and enjoying herself, not worrying about me.
‘Sis, I’m fine, I promise you,’ I tell her, placing my hands on her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. ‘And I’m so, so excited for your wedding.’
She allows herself to sigh with relief.
‘Well, I’ll let you get to your dinner, and I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she says.
‘Yeah, see you tomorrow,’ I reply as I see her out.
I’m almost certain that, if I were to come clean to Lucy, and tell her that I don’t have a date for her wedding, that she wouldn’t judge me at all. She would be kind, understanding, and tell me that it didn’t matter. However, that’s the last thing I want to be putting on her, in the run-up to her big day. I don’t want her worrying about me or how I might be feeling.
All the more reason for me to turn up tonight and wow Jeff – but for good reasons, I hasten to add. I’ve managed to get the bad ‘wow’ down to a fine art.
29
Let me start by saying that, when Jeff pitched this ‘date’ to me, and really went the extra mile to reassure me that I would be safe, and that it wouldn’t be weird, the last thing I expected was for him to kick things off by blindfolding me.
And yet here I am, wearing a blindfold, with a man I hardly know. Truthfully, if I get murdered right now, I deserve it. I really don’t want to stop trusting people, or lose all the excitement from my life – I also don’t want to get murdered, though, so here’s hoping it’s a nice surprise he has waiting for me.
It’s a good job I’m excited because, were it not for that distracting me, I’m not sure travelling in a car with a blindfold on feels all that great.
The steady hum of the engine, the rhythmic vibrations beneath me, and the not-so-subtle sway with every turn that jolts me around. It’s disorientating and it’s making me feel ever so slightly carsick.
All I know so far is that Jeff has taken me on a mysterious adventure, but I have absolutely no clue about our destination. We hopped into a car, leaving the Grand Palm Resort behind, but Jeff only let me enjoy the scenic drive for a few minutes before it was time to be blindfolded. As you do.
Perhaps it’s something about being blindfolded that has made all of my other senses stronger, but everything feels heightened right now. I fell in love with the scent of Jeff’s aftershave, and it made my skin tingle, when he would give my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Not only that but we’ve been chatting through the short journey, and we’re getting on really well. This is, so far, the makings of a dream date. I’m seriously impressed.
Potentially the only thing I need to worry about is that I don’t ruin it. I mean, come on, I’ve got previous.
We arrive at our destination and, after a short walk with Jeff carefully guiding me, it is finally time for me to take my blindfold off.
‘Here we are,’ he announces, a note of excitement in his voice.
I can hardly contain my curiosity as I remove the blindfold, squinting against the daylight. Slowly, the surroundings come into focus, but I have absolutely no idea where we are, or what we are inside. We’re standing inside a strange wooden stairwell.
‘Where are we?’ I ask, taking in my surroundings.
Jeff grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
‘Follow me and find out,’ he suggests as he heads up the stairs.
Intrigued, I follow Jeff up the winding staircase, trying to hide how tragically out of breath I am – who knew I was so unfit?
I’m so, so excited. I’ll say one thing about Jeff: Donnie may have thought he had an old man’s name, but Jeff sure knows how to set up one hell of an exciting date.
My imagination races ahead of me, envisioning a fancy and exclusive restaurant with a scenic view, or something equally unique. The thought of something special and romantic sends my mind into overdrive. In fact, I can feel my legs moving faster, despite my muscles feeling absolutely knackered, because I suppose I never really walk up more than a few steps.
‘You strike me as the kind of woman who likes to have fun,’ Jeff says, very much like it’s a compliment, as we reach the top of the stairs.
My smile drops and my breath catches in my throat as I realise what lies ahead of me. I’m not really sure what it is, exactly, I suppose it’s some kind of double zip line where people go two at a time, stepping off the platform before whizzing down together at an alarming speed and, oh my God, we are so, so high up. Panic sets in; obviously I’m terrified of heights, which Jeff doesn’t know, and he’s absolutely wrong in saying that I seem like the kind of woman who likes to have fun – it turns out I don’t. I’m the kind of woman who prefers a nice beige cardigan and a cup of tea, and having both feet planted firmly on solid ground. I am absolutely not the kind of woman who gets excited at the prospect of wilfully dangling from elevated podiums attached to glorified string.
I mean, come on, how safe is this anyway? Surely zip-lining is the kind of thrill-seeking activity that is exclusively for very brave, very experienced adrenaline junkies?
Right on cue, a child pushes past me, and it’s almost as though he senses my fear, because he laughs at me. Then he and his dad step to the edge and – poof – they’re gone.
Okay, so I am terrified, but there’s a part of me that appreciates Jeff’s effort to make this date unique and exciting. Maybe it’s a chance to confront my fears, or perhaps it’s a test of just how far I’m willing to go to find a date for this wedding. Am I really willing to face my biggest fear, just to impress a man?
‘Okay, guys, you’re up next,’ the instructor declares, and I swear I can feel the nachos I had earlier zip-lining from my stomach to my throat. My heart starts pounding as I desperately search for an escape route, but, nope, we’re handed helmets and harnesses faster than you can say ‘wheeeee’.
As Jeff and I shuffle toward the platform’s edge, the instructor leans in close.
‘Couples usually go for the hand-holding option,’ he tells us.
I shoot a glance at Jeff, and we exchange a look that screams: Are we really doing this? But from the look on his face, I can tell that he’s not only planning to do it, he’s excited.
I glance out ahead of me. It isn’t just one zip line, it’s two that run side by side, and it isn’t just one stretch. This line takes you to another platform, which takes you to another, and then another, getting a little lower each time. I couldn’t be higher from the ground right now unless I was in a helicopter, which I wouldn’t love, but it feels like a safer option than dangling from wires.
‘Ready? Here we go…’
The instructor’s words hang in the air, but when it comes time to take the plunge, I decide that I would much rather be a spectator than a participant.
And so Jeff sails off solo, leaving me on the platform, hanging on to the staff member for dear life.
‘Sorry,’ I tell the instructor, feeling a tinge of embarrassment as I peel myself off him, and slip out of my harness.
‘It happens more often than you would think,’ the instructor tells me. ‘Although it’s usually kids.’
Smooth, Gigi. So smooth.
I awkwardly trail back down the stairs – lacking the energy I found on the way up – my cheeks burning with a combination of the awareness that comes from seeing the judgemental looks from very, very brave men (women and children) on their way up, and, let’s face it, the most physical exercise I have done since school.
Finally back on solid ground, I resist the urge to plant a dramatic kiss on the earth beneath my feet. Instead, I hop into the waiting car, informing the driver that Jeff will be back shortly, and then I sink into my chair and think about what I’ve done. In years to come, when I’m an old woman, tucked up in bed, I will allow my mind to wander back to this day and I will run it through my head, again and again, thinking about what I should have done.
Jeff eventually returns to the car, triumphantly carrying two plates piled high with food.
‘I hope you’re hungry,’ he says with a smile.
There are saucy chicken wings, balls of rice, and then a small container full of shrimp.
‘I don’t like seafood,’ I blurt, getting it out of the way. ‘Or heights. Sorry about all that, up there.’
‘I know that now,’ he says with a chuckle. ‘But I didn’t even consider that, when I arranged it. That was silly of me and I’m sorry so… peace offering?’
He hands me a plate before lifting the container of shrimp off it, dumping it on his plate instead.
‘It’s okay,’ I reassure him, waving off the concern. ‘Did you enjoy it at least?’
‘I’ve done it before,’ he says, with a shrug. ‘Anyway, forget that, here we have Huli Huli chicken, which is super sweet and delicious – if you haven’t had it before. I thought we could eat in the car, maybe take a scenic ride around the island, watch the sunset. There’s a great route, along the Hana Highway, with some amazing views. Oh, and I know a great shave ice place, when you’re ready for dessert.’
I smile as I nod enthusiastically. Food, with a view, and my feet on firm ground. Now this is my idea of a dream date.
‘And maybe we could get to know one another a bit better,’ he suggests. ‘Just so I don’t put you face to face with any more of your fears.’
