I need sunglasses.
“We’re here, sir.” The driver’s forced smile wobbles, and I wonder how long he’s been trying to speak to me.
“Sorry.” I scramble from the golf cart. “I was distracted.”
The driver is already holding up my gym bag, and I hope he can’t tell it only contains an empty water bottle. Going through security was embarrassing.
“No worries, no worries,” the driver assures me. “First time in Fiji, yes?”
“Jet lagged,” I apologize, and the driver nods. “I, uh, don’t suppose there’s a clothes shop here?”
“Ah.” He nods. “You came to Fiji for shopping?”
“Um—”
“There are some stores outside the resort. Even some ferries. You likeCastaway? With Tom Hanks? The island is near here.”
Where have I arrived? I’m officially in the middle of nowhere. I wonder if there’s a discreet way I can ask what the nearest continent is.
His eyes soften. “Come. I show you inside, Mister. You have nice patio. Ocean view.”
I follow him through the villa. The floor is marble, and guilt rushes through me. I would have been fine going to Minnesota to see my family.
The driver opens the curtains. The sparkling Pacific Ocean fills the entire window. My eyes round. My breath quickens.
My driver smirks. “Welcome to Paradise.”
I force a smile on my face as the driver continues to expound about how I’m in the most beautiful place in the world. It would be rude to not look happy about that fact.
“Where’s the gym?” I ask.
“At the end of the road to the left,” the driver says.
I nod. “Cool.”
“You like sports?” the driver asks.
I smile, and my shoulders ease, as if grateful I can finally say something honest. “Yeah. I like sports a lot.”
“We have many things for active guests. Yoga when sun comes up. Good for the body.”
“Cool.”
“You look like a man who likes adventure, yes?”
When I don’t look enthusiastic about yoga, he continues, “We have scuba diving to see the reef. Very colorful, very beautiful. Or we have kayaks and jet skis. You can hire a guide to take you to other islands.”
“Other islands?”
“Fiji has more than four hundred islands.”
“That’s amazing.”
His smile widens.
After he continues showing me around the bungalow and I try not to feel guilty I booked something that would suit an entire family, with multiple bedrooms in case I get bored during the night and want to act out The Three Bears, and my own private pool that overlooks the ocean, I collapse onto the patio and do not think about Boston and do not think about Cal Prescott.
The thing about vacation is you have more time to think than you do otherwise. I wish I were at training and could think about stick handling or getting a puck past Troy or something.
