Page 28 of Bay of Plenty

“Sorry to worry you.” He gave me a huge hug, and I hung on tight. “Could I be any more of a grommet?”

Snow joined us, vibrating with a huge belly laugh. I squinted and imagined what we looked like. A loved-up couple and their good friend. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Chapter Seventeen

“Joyce, love. Goto lunch with Isla. I’m fine.” Dad patted Mum’s hand, but she still didn’t move from next to his bed where she’d been since Declan and I arrived after our surf lesson.

Dad’s triple bypass was scheduled for the next day. I brought him a mystery novel from Kui, and he was excited to start reading it. He didn’t want to talk about himself, only about Mum and me going to lunch and shopping together at Ruby Dunes, CeeCee’s boutique. To extend an olive branch, after the first day when I’d been miffed about her comment about my black frock, I’d asked Mum to help me buy a colorful dress. Delighted, she’d said she’d treat me. Now she didn’t want to go, but Dad insisted. With a tight chest, I kissed him goodbye, and Declan put his arms around me and Mum as we walked out to the car.

At home, Declan said he had calls to make and cried off lunch with Mum, Rosemary, and me. I knew he wanted to monitor Snow in the surf. But he promised to turn up at the boutique afterward.

The neighbors waved as Mum and I strolled past, calling out to have a good lunch at the café. How did they know our schedule?

At Roxie Café, Mum and I fussed over Rosemary, who made quite the entrance in a cream bouclé jacket, leather trousers, and stilettoes, as if we were lunching in New York City. We settled into a table with a view of the children’s playground and the sea.

“I love what they’ve done with this place.” I opened the menu. “Sort of a collision of two styles of the late sixties.” I waved my hand at the groovy purple armchairs and fussy floral wallpaper. “‘Summer of Love’ followed by a nice cup of tea.”

Mum and Rosemary’s laughter rang out amid the guitar instrumentals hanging in the air, along with the rich smell of coffee.

“See how she analyzes everything?” Mum elbowed Rosemary in the ribs.

Rosemary smiled. “Remember this place used to be called Surf’s Reach?”

“Nicknamed Surfer’s Retch because the food was so bad.” I looked up from my menu. “Those pineapple sandwiches curling at the edges. Yuck.” As with the trampoline in the campground, I used to sense an air of danger among the kids who hung out there. Whenever I ventured in during that first year in high school, Janey would be holding court in the corner, greasy-faced boys falling over each other to buy her ice cream.

We ordered and picked up our food at the counter. There was no rhyme or reason to the portions—the coffees were teeny tiny, the cake slices mountainously huge, like a Wonderland tea gone even more bonkers.

Whispering closely, CeeCee and our neighbor, Mr. Saunders, walked in. He was Janey’s dad. Our table was near enough that I could hear them order feijoa smoothies.Mr.Saunders was still wiry, with a shock of unruly white hair. He was thinner, and everything about him seemed a little more jumbled and careworn—his shirt buttoned wrong, his glasses askew, his socks mismatched, as though he had no one to tell him or care. Poor guy.

CeeCee traded jokes with the two cooks, happy and animated, her pink trapeze mini dress bouncing around her thighs, her messy bun dancing on top of her head.

I called to them both, and they waved. Mr.Saunders rushed over.

“Isla, I’d heard you were home. I’ve been dying to pop over, but I wanted to let you settle in first.” He held out his arms, and I went in for a bony hug. He surveyed me at arm’s length. “Oh, golly, yes, this is a good day, a wonderful day.”

My heart flared like a sunburst—his smile was Janey’s. Then shrank sadly for the same reason.

I invited them to join us, and they picked up their smoothies and settled in around our table. Normally terribly shy, Mr.Saunders asked me all sorts of specific questions about particular stories and my writing process. I was touched by his genuine interest, guilty that I should have been over to visit him before this.

I should acknowledge Janey—it felt like we were ignoring she existed if I didn’t. “Remember Janey loved this place?”

He smiled. “She did, even loved the terrible food.” He’d doted on her. But when Janey and I entered high school, his eco stuff—making his toothbrushes and toothpaste, hiking the hills wearing a plastic-covered map around his neck—had started to embarrass her. Seeing this, he had become nervous, exaggerating the sparrow-like twitch of his head, mortifying Janey further.

We were quiet for a moment. Mum and Rosemary hummed sadly, and CeeCee rubbed his shoulder.

Rosemary started to get restless with the extended silence. She buzzed with excitement about a Zoom meeting with a rich overseas client who wanted to buy the entire campground development.

“Gosh, the British have a jaunty way with clothes, don’t they?” she said, adopting a posh accent. “My client is such a natty dresser with his spotted bow tie—”

CeeCee gripped Rosemary’s arm. “Rosemary, why are you gossiping about your clients like that?”

Hmm.I was thinking the same thing, but for once, I held my tongue. I wanted to know where her client got the $16 million.

CeeCee had a sharpness in her voice I hadn’t heard before. “It’s very indiscreet. You could be struck off the register if someone overhears and complains about you.”

Rosemary tossed her head. “I’m super stoked, is all. Why are you casting shade on my shine, Ceec?” She turned to Mum and explained, “That’s like raining on my parade.”

CeeCee dropped her delicate, oiled shoulders, as if forcing the heat from her voice.

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