Page 14 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
‘Yeah. That’s what I thought. Is your boss actually going to let you back that quick?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll have at least taken some time off by then, and shown willing, so I don’t see why not.’
Gabe smirked. ‘I think “shown willing” is pushing the description a little far from what Ned said tonight.’
I shook my head. ‘My brother, as I’m sure you’re already aware if you’ve known him for as long as you have, says a lot of things. Quite a large percentage of which can easily be ignored. For example,’ I carried on, just in case Gabe had plans to circle back to those panic attacks, ‘about how you were practising your … what was it … “smooth chat-up spiel” on me earlier.’
This time it was Gabe’s turn to colour a little – and it was kind of adorable.
‘I really wasn’t, you know.’
Somewhere deep inside, I felt a surprising stab of disappointment. ‘No.’ I laughed it off. ‘I know that. I was just using it as an example of one of the many dopey things that emanates from my brother’s mouth from time to time.’
‘Right.’
We walked on in silence for a little way, the only sound around us being the soft whoosh of the waves as they caressed the sand before pulling back out.
‘Not that I wouldn’t practise on you.’
I looked up.
‘I mean, not that anyone would want to just practise on you, because that sort of implies they’re looking for something … someone a bit …’
‘Gabe?’
‘Yes?’
‘It’s probably best if you quit while you’re ahead.’
‘Yep. I think you’re probably right.’ His laugh was soft in the quiet of the night, but after a few minutes he spoke again. ‘Ned just likes teasing me about stuff like that precisely because it’s not really something I do.’
‘Chat women up?’
‘Chat anyone up,’ he said, apparently clarifying things for me, just in case.
‘You mean women just fall at your feet naturally?’ I was teasing, but even when I thought he was a burglar and then threatening to report me for squatting in my own house, I could still totally see how that could happen.
‘Ha! Yeah, I wish.’
Be careful what you wish for there, Gabe …
‘It’s just finding the time.’
‘Too much surfing?’
‘Too much working. And then, when I’m not, you’re right, I want to get in the surf because I don’t know when the next opportunity will be.’
I stopped walking and two steps later, Gabe realised and also stopped. In the front of his jacket, Bryan shuffled a little and carried on snoozing.
‘Wait, so after an evening of everyone giving me grief about how I was a workaholic, you’re standing there telling me you’re one too? Isn’t that just a little hypocritical?’
‘I do work a lot, but that’s not necessarily being a workaholic.’
‘Are you though?’
He shifted his weight as he looked down at me. Now I’d taken my sandals off, he was back to having a good twelve inches’ height advantage over me.
‘Probably.’
