Page 65 of Catch a Kiwi
He said, “Or I could offer to buy you a dress and the makeup and all, and maybe to have something done to your hair as well, if you like. You’ve mentioned that twice now, so I think it matters to you, even though it doesn’t matter to me.”
“I don’t think—” I started, but he ignored that and said, “You do realize I’ll be paying for the plane tickets and thehotel and cafés and all, so what’s a little shopping? I won’t say that I can afford it, because that’s not the point.”
“You’re right. Unfortunately.” I looked down at my hands. I’d been scrubbing and polishing with them for much longer than the past weeks here, and they showed it. “I want to say that they can take me as I am. Thatyoucan take me as I am. But let’s face it—I don’t want to go to a party with a bunch of strangers without a manicure and better hair, in my shorts and T-shirt. I’m not sure that would do you any favors with your new sort-of family, and it would look disrespectful, so what the heck.” I gave him a rueful smile. “Dress and shoes, anyway. I can’t really afford them right now, but if I’m doing it for you … Of course, that could be rationalization. I’ll have to buy some clothes to get an office job, but not a sundress, right? So I really would be buying it for you. Partially.”
“Right,” he said. “Call it fair compensation for giving me your weekend, the same way you lived here in exchange for cleaning up my storm damage better than anybody else would’ve done.”
“And you won’t go for it,” I said.
“I won’t go for it.” He put out his right hand, and I took it with my left one, only realizing afterward that he’d meant me to shake it. I could have pulled it away, but the warmth was there between us the way it had been in the plunge pool, like a current drawing us together. He said, “But ifyougo for it, I won’t fight you off,” and smiled.
Something was happening in my chest, a sort of expanding I hadn’t felt in so long.Infatuation,I thought, but that wasn’t how it felt. It felt sweeter than that. Which was when he put two fingers between my brows and rubbed there. “I want to make this line go away,” he said.
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. My hand in his, his hand on my face, and the darkness falling softly around us.
“Your days pass like rainbows,” he said, his voice quietand deep. “Like a flash of lightning, like a star at dawn. Your life is short. How can you quarrel? The Buddha. That’s what you remind me of.”
“Of the Buddha? I reallyhavegained weight.” I was trying to rally, but I couldn’t do it.
“No,” he said. “Of a star at dawn. When I was bandaging you that first night, on my bed, that was how you were. You show me that every time you forget to be careful. You showed it to me yesterday, under that waterfall. And I want that for myself. Every time.”
I swallowed and could tell he noticed it. “So,” he said, his hand still on my face, “we’re on for Saturday.”
“Delilah too?” I asked.
“Delilah too. I’ll be in touch.” He took his hand away from my face, and I felt it go.
Asking for trouble, you’re thinking. You could be right.
28
COMPLICATIONS ENSUE
Roman
The next morning, Esther was sitting across the desk from me as usual, taking notes. “Tickets to Hawke’s Bay next Monday, then,” she said. “Hotel in Napier for two nights. Coming back to Dunedin, or on to Auckland?”
“Wellington,” I said. “I’ll want you up there, too. Both places. But I won’t be flying up from here.”
“No?” she asked when I paused.
“I need a ticket to Tauranga for Saturday instead,” I said. “Hire car, too. I’ll drive to Hawke’s Bay on Monday morning, but I’ll fly to Wellington from there, so I’ll want to turn in the car. I’ll also need two more tickets from Dunedin to Tauranga on the same flight as mine, but flying back to Dunedin on Monday morning. And two hotel rooms in Mount Maunganui for Saturday and Sunday nights. Two beds in one of them. Sea view. Best you can get.”
“An apartment may be better,” she said. “A condo. There’s not much up there other than motels. Assuming you want to impress these people.”
“Fine,” I said, not addressing the last bit. “Whatever seems best. Posh, is the idea. Ultra.”
“Names on the tickets?” she asked.
“Summer Adair. And Delilah … Wait. Hang on.” I picked up the phone, dialed the number, and got “Roman?” in that husky little voice that I heard not so much in my ears as in my groin. I didn’t shift in my chair, because Esther was watching me with her usual I-see-you-but-I’m-not-judging expression. I ignored my reaction as best I could and said, “Delilah’s surname. For the plane tickets. And both of your birthdates.”
“Fairbanks,” she said, then gave me the dates, and I told Esther. She made a note, and instead of ringing off, I asked Summer, “Have you left yet?”
“Yes,” she said. “We’re here. We cleaned again before we left, of course. And threw away anything too perishable, as you won’t be going back there for at least a couple of weeks.” None of which was a surprise, except that it wasn’t even noon.
“All right there, is it?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s fine.” Still sounding guarded.
