Chapter 25 #2
Guests are on the beach for their sundowners, and we don’t encounter anybody except the waiters who are scurrying around with hefty cocktails.
We eat quickly, and then I lead the way into our cottage, which has already had its room turndown. It’s spotless as always, the mosquito net closed around the bed. “This way.”
Roger follows and seems surprised when I open the door to the walk-in closet. “You hide in here?”
“It’s the most bug-proof room and comes with lights. So I can work at night without disturbing Lexi.” I switch my laptop on. “Go fetch an extra chair? There’s one in the bathroom.”
He comes back a second later, and I’m already typing away. I take the disk out of my camera and slot it into the laptop. “Let’s see what you got.”
“You don’t need the internet to do this?” he asks as I download our images in my editing app.
“Nope. This I do offline. As for my social media, I schedule posts to go out. I post three images or reels a day, even though I’m here.”
Roger nods. “Cool. I want to do the same. Can you show me how?”
“Do you have a computer? Or a laptop?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Nope. All I have is this.” He holds his phone up, and it’s vintage.
Everything Roger knows, he’s gathered from scraps or learned online from the apps that still work on his dated phone.
Not that it’s stopping him—this man is ready to climb an exponential wall of learning—but he needs a new device to practice and refine his skills.
I glance at my own latest-edition phone.
I can let that go when I leave here and get a new one at home.
It’s not as if I use it much right now. Maybe I can arrange for a new phone from Dar es Salaam and have it shipped to Ne’emba.
That would give Roger a head start. With the floatplane coming in so regularly, that has to be an option.
I’m not sure how Roger will feel about handouts, though.
“Here we go.” I only took about two shots. The rest are all Roger’s. At first there’re a lot of duds, but then the moment when something clicked becomes clear. Roger’s images are crisp, the colors bright, a split second of paradise captured for eternity. “Look at this one. It’s freaking awesome.”
I glance over at Roger when he says nothing, only to see his bottom lip trembling, his eyes welling up.
My throat tightens too, but I am well acquainted with this feeling. I have it every time I capture something that seems bigger than life itself, even if it’s the tiniest of creatures. “That’s talent, man. Pure, undiluted talent. And we’re going to hone it over the next weeks.”
Roger swallows, his Adam’s apple rising in his throat. “I didn’t think this was possible.”
“Well, now you know. Everything is possible.”
He shakes his head. “I need to show Deshni. Can I?”
“Sure. She’s welcome to come have a look. It’s fantastic on this big screen. See? This is why I told you not to judge the images while you’re still in the water.”
For the next three hours, we go through the photos, selecting the best ones. I show him some basic edits, and we’re so engrossed that we both startle when Lexi leans into the closet.
“Oh, I thought you were here alone,” she says in greeting.
“Hey, babes.” At least that sounds natural.
She comes closer, and for a split second I hesitate, but then Jem’s words from this morning ring through my mind. We need to keep up pretenses, so I wrap my arm around her butt and pull her toward me. She doesn’t object, so I hold on.
“Wow,” Lexi says as she leans closer to the screen. “You took that photo?”
I nod in Roger’s direction. “He did. The way he captured the light beaming through those fins is spectacular.”
“I think it’s beginner’s luck,” Roger says, eyes downcast and shy.
“I think it’s talent,” I say.
“Whatever it is, don’t stop.” Lexi looks at us. “In fact, you two can probably help us out with taking some professional photos.”
“Of what?” I ask.
“I’ve been thinking of Deshni and Sarika’s plans on and off today. We’ll need new brochures to put in the rooms and some new spa menus, the type of thing I can have printed in Dar es Salaam. It would be nice to use our own onsite photos.”
“Desh told you about their plans?” Roger says, eyeing Lexi.
“She did, and I think they’re brilliant.”
Roger’s lips curl in a small but pleased smile.
“That’s not usually in my wheelhouse, but we can give it a shot. When do you need us?” I ask, making sure Roger gets that we’re a team here.
“Let’s see how we can fit it in,” Lexi says. “The sooner the better. I don’t want it to drag. I’d love to have this up and running before we leave—see if we can increase the spa’s profits before the lodge closes for the rainy season.” She yawns and rests her hand on my back.
Increasing the spa’s profits would be a feather in her cap, for sure. “We’ll be there,” I say, relishing her touch. “How was your day?”
“I’m whacked,” Lexi says with a grimace. “This wedding can be over already.”
Roger chuckles. “They just arrived.”
“The amount of stuff they flew in is insane. I’ve been on my feet the whole day. We have the rehearsal dinner too, as if every dinner isn’t a rehearsal in some way. Couldn’t they have done that in Paris? Chef is great at keeping his cool, but even he rolled his eyes at me today.”
“I wonder if they’ll even taste the food,” I say. “The cocktails they had earlier were loaded.”
“The champagne was flowing at dinner,” Lexi agrees. “Followed by red wine. Sounds like a headache in the making.”
“We’ll see if any of them comes for a dive tomorrow. I’ll do a sobriety test before we go out.” I run my knuckles down her naked leg and trace a slow circle with my thumb on the back of her knee. Her fingers slide down my back, and a second later, her touch is gone.
“Sounds like a plan.” She stifles another yawn. “I’m off to bed. You’re going to work late tonight?”
I still. I’m not going to go to bed until she’s asleep. I retract my hand from the back of her leg. What the actual fuck am I doing touching her like this? “I have to catch up. If I don’t, I’m going to run into trouble.”
Several beats of silence follow. Fuck. I might have said too much.
“Catch up with what?” Roger asks.
I drag my fingers through my hair, at a crossroads.
Lexi squeezes my shoulder—in warning? Who knows.
For me, there’s trust between all of us in this small room, and with a shrug, I share.
“I’m working on a side project while we’re here.
When I told you these three months are my salvation, I wasn’t joking. You want to see?”
Roger’s eyes jump between mine and Lexi’s, probably sensing that he’s been let into the inner circle. “Of course.”
“Hmm…” Lexi hums. “It’s Tristan’s love letter to the ocean.”
My love letter to the ocean.
Nobody has ever seen my project in that light, not even me.
But it’s exactly that: a love letter. It’s more than proving to Dad that I’m worthy, that I can excel in my life away from his expectations, in something totally independent of him.
It’s a visual manifestation of my love for the place where I found inner peace after my family made my life hell.
It captures a love that will stand the test of time, again and again.
I reach for Lexi’s fingers where they still rest warm on my shoulder and give them a squeeze.
She leans over and kisses the top of my head.
My heart stalls at this sweet gesture. Was it for Roger’s sake, for keeping up the show, or was it an honest-to-goodness beautiful kiss straight from the heart?
I don’t know.
But Lexi’s ability to sum me up in so few words shows how well she knows me.
And that is scary as fuck.