We need to give her time to calm down. There’s no way she can stay angry at her brother and best friend forever.
I do feel incredibly bad that at a time when she suspects Tom is cheating on her, when she needs support, she’s having to cope with this. It feels like we’re sprinkling salt into her wounds.
My car is back from the mechanic, so I drive, which makes Marcus grumble and me joke about him having to slum it.
I use my hand not on the steering wheel to thread my fingers through Marcus’s. He gives me a gentle squeeze in return.
I’ve never believed I deserve Marcus. That I’m good enough for him. One part of me still thinks this must be some elaborate prank, and any minute now, someone will jump out and yell, “Gotcha,” and reveal the hidden camera. I feel that even more after getting to know him, after discovering the hidden depths and innate kindness of this man.
Mangawhai comes into view as we drive over the hill. It’s a small coastal town sandwiched between endless blue ocean and rolling farmland. The town itself sprawls along the edge of the estuary. It used to be a quiet slice of New Zealand coastline, home to some of our most endangered birds, but it’s recentlyseen an uptick in development as Aucklanders flock to the lifestyle it offers with a less than two-hour drive from the city.
But all that development isn’t good for endangered birds.
I take Marcus straight to the beach to see the fairy terns.
Only some Department of Conservation vehicles are allowed on the beach, so I park as close as possible and then lead Marcus on the long trek across the dunes.
We trudge through the windswept landscape, sand whipping into places I’d rather not mention. Marcus doesn’t seem perturbed by the uncomfortable conditions. Maybe he’s just picturing this as prep for his next post-apocalyptic blockbuster?
“There’s the hide,” I say when I finally spot it, pointing to a small wooden structure against the backdrop of the dunes.
During the breeding season, there’s a ranger or volunteer here every day, watching over the chicks.
I say a quick prayer that the volunteer is someone like Ray, a retired farmer in his sixties who can spot a rare bird from a mile away but wouldn’t recognize a Hollywood A-lister if one tap-danced on his binoculars.
We duck into the hide, only to find not one but two volunteers inside. Darleen and Dot.
Shit. Darleen is a doctor’s receptionist. If she ever glances at the covers of the magazines in the waiting room where she works, she’s sure to recognize Marcus.
“Hey, Darleen. Dot,” I say hesitantly.
They are both facing out of the hide, binoculars at their eyes.
“Hiya, Seb,” Dot says happily.
“Uh…this is my boyfriend, Marcus,” I say. “I’ve brought him to see the fairy terns.”
Darleen turns to greet Marcus. Suddenly, her eyes widen, and she drops the binoculars on the floor with a thud. She blinks, then blinks again.
“Ah…umm…” she manages to say.
Meanwhile, Dot has shuffled forward, offering her hand for Marcus to shake.
“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you. Seb told me he had a boyfriend, but I didn’t actually believe him. I thought he was just fobbing me off to stop me setting him up. Anyway, it’s nice to know you do really exist.”
Great. It’s always good to know my love life has been filed underUrban Legends, alongside Bigfoot sightings and the existence of Auckland parking spaces.
“Yes, I really do exist,” Marcus says with one of his charming smiles.
She drops his hand and squints at him. “Say, I think I might have met you before.”
“I don’t think so,” Marcus says politely.
“Are you sure? You look very familiar.”
Marcus flicks a quick glance at me. I give a quick shrug because Saskia knows now, so there is no point in keeping it a complete secret anymore.
Besides, I’m fairly sure Darleen will educate Dot on exactly who Marcus is the moment we leave.