“Smooth as silk,” Willy said. He told Ned the details.
“Perfect!” Ned said.
“I didn’t have any trouble either. I rented one of those big powerboats that have enough engine to drive a supertanker. Come on, finish your beer. We got to go buy bait.
A lot of bait.”
The Hamilton Island Resort had so many ethnic restaurants to choose from, Marissa and Wendy had trouble making up their minds. They eventually settled on Polynesian, thinking it was the closest thing to local. To get into the mood they had purchased bright floral-print sarongs in the hotel’s gift shop.
Having concluded the arrangements for the following day’s diving, Marissa and Wendy had spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around the pool, soaking up the warm tropical sun.
Although it hadn’t been crowded, there had been enough sunbathers poolside to make people-watching interesting. They’d even struck up a conversation with several single men who were intrigued to discover the women hailed from Boston.
Marissa was amazed at the number of Australians who had visited the States. Many had made it to Boston. Australia seemed to be a land of travelers. The six weeks’ holiday they got every year had to be a boon to the adventurous.
“Let’s order some champagne to celebrate being here,” Wendy suggested.
“I’m so excited about tomorrow, I can’t stand it.”
The food was “interesting,” as Wendy had put it, but pork wasn’t Marissa’s favorite. And eating off large tropical leaves didn’t strike her as appetizing.
While they were waiting for dessert, Marissa looked at Wendy.
“Have you been thinking much about Gustave?” she asked.
“Of course,” Wendy said.
“Be hard not to, even though I’m trying. Have you been thinking about Robert?”
Marissa admitted that she had.
“It started on the plane,” she said.
“Do you think I ought to call? I may have overreacted about Donna.”
“Go ahead and give him a call,” Wendy said.
“If it’s on your mind, I think you should do it. Maybe I should call Gustave.”
The dessert arrived. It was called Coconut Extravaganza. They both tried it. Wendy said she thought it was so-so. She put down her spoon.
“I don’t think it’s worth the calories.”
Marissa leaned forward.
“Wendy,” she said with a lowered voice.
“There is an Asian man behind you who’s been watching us.
Wendy responded by twisting in her seat.
“Where?” she asked.
Marissa grabbed her arm.
“Don’t look,” she said.
Wendy faced her companion.
“What do you mean, don’t look?
How am I supposed to see who you mean?”
“Be subtle!” Marissa whispered.
“He’s three tables behind you, he’s with a dark-haired man whose face I can’t see. Uh oh!”
“What’s the matter?” Wendy asked.
“The guy with the dark hair is looking this way now,” Marissa said.
Wendy couldn’t contain herself any longer. She twisted around again. Turning back to Marissa, she said, “Well, so what? They like our new sarongs.”
“There’s something about the Asian man that makes me feel uncomfortable,” Marissa said.
“It’s almost a visceral reaction.”
“Do you recognize him?” Wendy asked.
“No,” Marissa admitted.
“Maybe he reminds you of those creeps at the Women’s Clinic,” Wendy suggested.
“That’s a thought,” Marissa agreed.
“Maybe he’s from the People’s Republic,” Wendy said.
“Everybody that I know who’s gone to China has told me that they stare to beat the band.”
“He’s driving me crazy,” Marissa said, forcing herself to look away.
“If you’re finished, let’s get out of here.”
“I’m done,” Wendy said, tossing her napkin over her coconut extravaganza, Emerging from the dining room into the outdoors, Marissa looked up in awe. She had never witnessed such stars as she did in the velvety purple of the Australian night. Gazing at their intensity, she felt instantly better. She wondered why she was so sensitive about that Asian. After all, he’d been far across the room from them.
Back in the hotel room, Marissa sat down on the edge of her bed and figured out what time it was in the States.
“It’s seven fifteen in the morning in Boston,” she said.
“Let’s call.”
“You call first,” Wendy said. She stretched out on the bed.
With trembling fingers, Marissa dialed her home. As the distant phone rang, she tried to think of what she would say. By the fourth ring, she knew Robert wasn’t home. Just to be certain, she let it ring ten times before hanging up. She turned to Wendy.