We stand there for a moment, the music and chatter of the bar fading into the background. I can feel the electricity between us, and I know I want to spend more time with him.
“Hey, do you want to get out of here? Maybe go for a walk or something?”
Kyle hesitates for a moment, but then nods. “Yeah, that’d be great.” He gestures to the glasses the bartender has just placed on a tray together with a few cruise cards. “I just need to take these drinks to my friends.”
I watch him drop off the drinks and the cards and farewell two women sitting at a table, and for a minute, I worry he won’t come back. But then he does, walking towards me with a smile on his face.
We make our way through the throngs of people, my hand instinctively reaching out to guide him through the crowd. He looks up at me, his warm brown eyes meeting mine, and I can feel another jolt of that strange electricity.
The sound drops decibels as soon as we leave the bar. The dance music is replaced by the soft sound of the string quartet who are entertaining the patrons of an elegant cocktail bar located in the centre of the ship. We continue walking in comfortable silence for a while, strolling past rows of boutiques and the art gallery until eventually we push open the doors to the deck. The ship moves gently beneath our feet and the air is cool against my skin. Eventually, we come across a quiet, sheltered alcove with a bench seat tucked away from the main thoroughfare. The space is intimate, and it seems like the perfect place to have a conversation.
As he sinks onto the seat, Kyle admits he’s a little out of his depth, that he’s not used to being around so many people. “Working on the farm means I hardly see anyone day in, day out. Just my brother, John, and his wife, Sarah. And their kids, of course. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but sometimes wonder what it’d be like having a job somewhere else where I had to leave for work each day. I don’t even have a commute. I just stroll from my cottage at the back of the property to the shed or the main homestead, depending where I’m working for the day.”
“You don’t have anyone else who works there?”
“Well, we get in help at different times of the year, like pickers at harvest.”
“I’ve got to admit, I know nothing about farming. It sounds fascinating.”
Kyle chuckles. “It sounds crazy—up at the crack of dawn every day, working our arses off rain, hail, or shine. Oh my god, the forty degree days are a killer. Then there’s the gamble we’re taking every season, whether it be the weather or the bushfires or any of the many other things that can go wrong.”
“But you love it?” I ask. I already know the answer—I can see it in the way he talks about the place.
He nods. “Yep. Every minute.”
“And what about friends? Is it hard in the country?”
“Yes and no. Country folk can be warm and welcoming and I’ve got some great friends from school, but sometimes the social life is a bit limited. We’ve got the pub, and a few restaurants, and I play footy. A lot of my friends are married now too, so they do family stuff.”
“You’re the odd man out?”
Kyle shrugs. “Sometimes it feels like that. I wish I was more outgoing, but I’ve always been a bit of a homebody. After a long day working the farm, the last thing I want to do is go out to all hours, especially not when I have to be up at sparrow’s fart.”
I snort a laugh. “I think that’s probably the time I’m going to bed some nights.”
“See!” He smiles. It looks good on him, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
The conversation flows easily. We talk about everything from our favourite movies to our favourite food, and about our families. I find myself opening up to him in a way I haven’t with anyone in a long time. I tell him about taking my younger brother under my wing when our mum hit rock bottom, about how the drugs destroyed our family. As if sensing the topic is raw, he gently directs the conversation back to the cruise.
“I had a fantastic tour of Noumea today,” he says. “The sights were incredible, and I even tried some local food at the markets. Have you ever tasted bougna?”
I chuckle at his enthusiasm. “I haven’t evenheardof bougna.”
“It’s a type of stew, I guess, all wrapped in banana leaves. Anyway, it was delicious.”
I recall my own day spent with Brian, wandering around town before eating lunch at an upmarket bistro. I can’t help but think it would have been more enjoyable if I’d spent the day with Kyle instead. “It sounds like something I’d love to taste. I ate lunch at a little French bistro. They had escargot.”
Kyle screws up his nose and I smile at his expression. “I don’t usually eat a lot of fancy food at home, so the bougna was definitely a first for me. But snails? That’s a definite no from me.”
“You don’t eat out a lot?”
“Maybe a chicken snitty down at the pub,” Kyle says.
“Can’t go wrong with a snitty.” I chuckle. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what about dating?”
“Yeah, there’s not a lot of opportunity, but that’s probably a good thing.” He looks at me and sighs. “You must think I’m weird, but I panic when I meet someone new. I never know what to say and get tongue-tied. It’s awkward, and uncomfortable.”
His honesty is refreshing. I’m so used to people talking themselves up, but Kyle is straight as an arrow. But he’s also wrong. “What do you call this then?” I ask, gesturing between the two of us.
