Page 84 of The Sailor in Polynesia
“Did I tell you she called the venue ‘on my behalf’? She wanted to up the guest count. We don’t even have that big of a family. Who the hell does she want to invite?”
I made some noises of agreement and hustled her out the door to the bar. The back of the bar was three shelves of liquor bottles, but then the wall above it extended up and up and up to what must have been a thirty-foot ceiling. It was dotted with high-quality electric tea lights—or at least they must be electric; I couldn’t imagine someone using a ladder to light every single one. A strip of mirror rose on the wall behind each tea light, and the whole room glowed in warm wood and candlelight.
Lila plopped onto the barstool and I asked the bartender for two waters. “I wish we could honeymoon onEik.”
I laughed. “That’s not a honeymoon, that’s home.”
She made a face at me. “Not anymore. I can’t believe we’re going to move offEiknow.”
When Lila and Eivind returned from Australia, where Eivind had met Lila’s parents, they immediately bought a car and took off on a camping trip around the country, calling it their honeymoon. They still had some items onEik, so after the wedding, they would drive to the boat in Whangarei and pack their things.
Jonas and I were leaving soon. Cyclone season was ending and we were planning to head north again. We had looked at the charts and the weather, and were heading to Tonga. Jonas barely got to see it last year since they were in a rush to move south before the cyclones started up. This year we had more time, and it would be just the two of us sailing from one port to another.
The bartender came back and slid two coasters over with tall glasses of water.
“Thank you,” I said as I watched Lila put her mouth onto the glass without picking it up. She slurped at the water.
“You’re welcome. She’s having a good bachelorette party?”
I took a closer look at the bartender. “You’re American?”
“So are you.” She grinned at me.
“Do you know each other?” Lila asked.
The bartender and I both laughed. “Do you know my cousin in Perth?” I asked.
Lila’s eyes widened. “You have a cousin in Perth?”
“No.”
She stuck her tongue out at me and ducked down, slurping again.
“Where are you from?” I asked the bartender.
“Boston,” she said, with longa’s instead ofo’s.
“Seattle.”
“Nice. You live here now?”
I shook my head. “Just passing through. You?”
“Same, kinda. I’m here on a working holiday visa.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I didn’t even know those were a thing until I was too old to do it.”
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s been good to get out and see the country. There’s lots to do and it’s not too far.”
“Not like Straya,” Lila chimed in.
“I’m Mia.”
“Claire.”
“Lila!” she practically screamed. “Claire. Claire. I have to tell you something.” She put her elbow on the counter and watched the bartender.
Claire grinned good-naturedly. “Let me guess, you’re getting married.”
