Epilogue
BAMBI
Working and living in a place like Hand Job Island, you get used to seeing happy couples, even temporary vacation couples. When I put it that way, it sounds like I’ve been here a lot longer than a year. It feels that way sometimes too.
It’s like time ceases to exist here in the normal way. Every day runs into the next during the busy season, a blur of happy faces and wild parties, but once the off-season hits? The island becomes a whole different place.
“Order up,” Ten calls, his voice echoing over the din of the bar, making my heart leap in that stupidly hopeful way it always does when I’m anywhere near him, or talking about him, or even thinking about him.
Ugh. Pathetic, party of one.
I weave through the crowd, used to the rhythm after nearly two seasons here now. I can only imagine how well I’ll have this dance down after another few. If I even stay that long.
I grab the drinks that Ten set at the end of the bar, trying like hell not to read too much into the smile he shoots me before I hustle away with them. I’ve been going back and forth about the whole thing for weeks. With the busy season ending, now’s the time to make my decision. Am I going back to my regular life, or am I going to make a home here? My roommate, Nacho, told me last week that he’s out after this season. That should make the decision easy. I don’t have anyone to live with, and I’m not sure I want to try to afford rent on my own. Besides, if I don’t register for fall classes, my deferment will end and I’ll have to re-apply.
I set the drinks down, giving the guys a big smile. They look familiar, but after alongbusy season, everyone starts to look that way.
“Can I get you guys anything else?” I ask, and then it hits me who they are. They were in here last year, and I walked in on them getting frisky in the restroom. “Oh, hey. It’s Real, right?” I ask, pointing at the smaller of the two. His name is just weird enough that it stuck with me, apparently.
He grins. “That’s right.”
I look between the two of them. I’ve seen hundreds of vacation romances ignite and fizzle right in front of my eyes, burning intensely until they flicker and die. It’s nice to see the occasional couple come back, apparently still happy and together if the way they're gazing into each other’seyes all lovestruck and sappy is any indication.
“We thought this would be an appropriate way to celebrate our one-year anniversary,” the boyfriend—Flynn, that’s his name—explains, still gazing at his man, all dreamy and lusty.
Ugh, is it too much to hope that someone might look at me like that one day?
I glance over my shoulder, back in Ten’s direction, and catch him leaning over the bar, flirting with Hennessy. My stomach clenches. It would beepicallystupid to stay here another season in the vain hope that he’ll turn that kind of attention on me eventually, right? Even if Iaman almost-thirty-year-old virgin about ready to throw myself at his feet and beg him to be the one to deflower me.
“Speaking of anniversaries…” Flynn says, clearly too focused on his man to realize I’m still standing there. I’m not entirely sure myself why I’m still standing here other than the fact that if I walk back over toward the bar, I might end up giving Hen the stink eye, which he doesn’t deserve because he’s been nothing but nice to me and I have no claim whatsoever to the man whose arm he’s casually touching.
“What about them?” Real asks, and Flynn reaches into his pocket with a sly grin.
Oh my god, I’m so not eternally squealing right now because I’m a grown man and not anexcitable child who just realized he’s about to see the most romantic of true love gestures.
Flynn slides out of his chair and down onto one knee. “One isn’t enough, Real. I want all of them, every single one.” He pulls out a small box and pops it open. “Marry me? Be my husband and face every second of this crazy life with me? Let me love you forever.”
“Yes,” he answers breathlessly, joining his man on the floor, the two of them kneeling together next to the table while Flynn slides the ring onto his finger.
The people at the surrounding tables clap and wolf-whistle as the two of them share a passionate kiss, all tongue and hands, and definitely not the kind of kiss I’ve ever shared with anyone in public…or in private.
More ugh.
“Congratulations,” I say once they part. “Let me get you two some complimentary champagne to celebrate.”
By the time I get back to the bar, Hennessy is gone and Ten is busy filling drinks. I decide not to bother him, slipping behind myself to grab one of the small bottles of champagne out of the cooler.
“A proposal, huh?” Ten says when he spots me.
“Yup. They’re going to get married.” I cringe at myself. No duh, they’re going to get married. He justsmiles like I’m not constantly making a complete fool of myself in front of him.
He lets out a low whistle and pushes a beer across the bar to a customer. “Must be wild to find someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. Can you imagine it?”
I shake my head. I really and truly can’t. I bring the champagne over to the table and then get back to the rest of my customers, hurrying around the bar filling drinks and making guesses about who’s going to be leaving with who. It’s a way to pass the time.
By the time the crowd thins out in the early hours of the morning, my feet are killing me, and all I really want is a cup of sleepy-time tea and my bed. Yup, I’m clearly fit for the island’s party lifestyle.
Maybe Ishouldstop playing around and get back to my real life. You can only put things on pause for so long.
