Page 43 of Summer, in Between
We wait to pay next to a giant fishtank teeming with lobsters.
‘You still hungry?’Paul says.
‘Are you kidding?I can barely walk.’
‘You sure you can’t squeeze in some gelato?It’s just up the road.’
The Italian in me perks up at the thought of gelato.‘How do you know all this?’
‘Three years of trade school,’ he says.‘Once a month for a week I’m up here, doing nothing other than scoping out good food.You’re gonna love me when you go to uni.’
I feel the flush move across my face.We walk along the street back to the car.Red lanterns swing from awnings and fairy lights adorn windows.
‘You know what, forget the gelato.I’d love a decent coffee, one I haven’t made myself.Can we do that?’
‘Hardly a challenge.Let’s do it.’
We drive across the city, the skyscrapers lit up against the dark sky, helicopters weaving in and out.We walk into an Italian cafe with a wall full of pastries.The staff call to each other in Italian.A giant coffee machine takes up a slab of the marble bar.Our reflections grin at us; I look so happy I could slap myself.I order for us in Italian and the barista unashamedly flirts with me until an older gentleman stands beside him, admonishing him.‘Che bella coppia!’He raises his right hand, his fingers touching, a wide smile across his face.He adds a cannoli to our order, free of charge.
‘What’s he saying?’Paul whispers into my ear.
‘We’re a beautiful couple.’I roll my eyes.
‘I wish,’ Paul mutters, his voice low, and when I look at him, he busies himself with cutting the cannoli in half.
Paul’s headlights illuminate the dark.We’re the only car on the highway, the city lights dwindling behind us.The music is low, and he sings along so softly I can barely hear him.My eyes drift closed.
19
I’M sitting at oneof the inside tables at Sadie’s with the newspaper while Matty and Tommy play pinball.Matty uses his whole body to move the small silver ball through the obstacles, standing on tiptoes, his arms spread like an eagle across the top of the glass.It’s a stretch for him to reach the buttons on the side to move the levers, and he lurches from left to right, twisting at the hips.Through the window, I see the surfers emerge from the bush track.Like a school of fish, they cross the road and come into Sadie’s.I just referred to them as surfers, not as the Neanderthals.This is a strange development.
Paul leaves the pack and drops into the seat beside me, Ant close behind.He calls out to Sadie, ordering himself a burger with the lot.
‘Hey, Cat.’He reaches behind me and grabs a surfing magazine, so close I can feel his chest against my shoulder.He smells of sea and salt.If I turned my head there’d be centimeters between our mouths.I look down at my phone.
‘Hi, guys!You want a burger?Chips?’says Paul.
