Chapter Thirty-Nine

The driver took us a few villages down the shore and parked by a shack of woven palm leaves. A short smiley man made us freshly squeezed juice. Plastic cups in hand, we ventured into the local market, rows of unfamiliar fruits mixed with all types and sizes of bananas. The part of the market, which smelled so much of fish that my eyes watered, was almost empty by the time we got there.

"We'll order fresh tuna for tomorrow"s dinner," Benjamin said, walking beside me.

I just nodded.

The air was so humid and, with the mix of suffocating smells of fish and fruit, I felt dizzy. The driver of our minibus greeted us outside the market and Benjamin stopped to talk with him, a moment later gesturing for us to follow.

The driver, Nirved, told us in his heavily accented English that he lived in the village, and he wanted to show us around. We walked along a path hidden in exotic greenery, the sounds of birds screaming above us. We stopped by a house and Nirved proudly opened the gate, ushering us inside.

The house was crooked, though surprisingly large compared to the shacks dotted in the area, the second floor built upon the first in a different style and color. Nirved explained that when his son married they built the second floor for him to live there with his new family. Nirved's wife opened the front door and welcomed us inside. A younger woman was sitting by the table, her round belly making it almost impossible to fit in the narrow space between furniture.

Nirved wanted to show us every nook in the house, and we followed him through each room, barefoot. He was so proud of his mismatched furniture, colorful drapes, and gold ornaments on the walls. He pointed to an air conditioner in each room, and after Benjamin nodded approvingly, Nirved seemed to grow a few inches, his back straightening. It was a sign of luxury to have such a big house, with flat-screen TVs in each room, and air conditioners.

Alice split from the group. As much as I didn't care about her, my eyes kept returning to her face. I wanted to ignore her presence, but some kind of compass I couldn't control pointed toward her. She moved, my body moved.

And then she stepped back into the kitchen, while Nirved talked about his kids, showing us their pictures. The group was shifting, feeling uncomfortable, while Benjamin seemed genuinely interested in his family. Dave stood by the window, looking outside longingly, Olga hugged her body as though she didn't want to touch anything. Jessica looked around with saucer-sized eyes.

Finally, Nirved's wife appeared and called us outside to a table hidden in the shade of palm trees, benches around it. Everyone sat around, and I noticed how Benjamin's eyes darted to each of us. Not finding the ones he was looking for, he stood up, just to sit back when he saw Alice helping the younger woman bring cups, a ceramic kettle in her hands.

Alice sat by his side, and he pulled her closer, lightly touching her elbow. She looked at me. Those piercing eyes caught mine. I looked away to the kettle.

A woman, the wife of Nirved's son, explained to us that she worked as a tour guide at a tea factory before her pregnancy and told us a short history of tea before pouring each of us a small cup. The cups were transparent, and the rich amber liquid glinted in the sun. And when I took a sip, my eyes closed, the savory taste hugging my tongue, tickling my senses. The flavor was deep and intense.

I opened my eyes and noticed two pairs of eyes on me, Benjamin and Alice.

"Do you like tea?" Benjamin asked.

I nodded. He didn't need to know that tea was a big part of my life, a ritual, a meditation. I would share that piece of information gladly if the roots of the fascination weren't in the woman by his side.

"Emily is a tea junkie," Jessica said helpfully. "She knows everything about it. In the previous office, she even had a personal set of boxes with different kinds of leaves, and a clay teapot stood by her laptop all the time. When everyone was running to the coffee shop Emily always drank tea."

I felt my cheeks burning, and I hoped someone would say something, not about me or tea, someone, anything. I glanced down at my cup, as every pair of eyes around the table looked at me. But only one pair bore deep.

"How far are you?" Olga asked the young woman.

And everyone looked away from me. A warm smile spread across her face, a hand going to her belly, caressing it.

"Any day now," she said.

I turned to Olga and hoped my eyes conveyed gratitude.

* * *

Finally, we stood up from the table, thanked our hosts, and walked down to the beach. The shore was wrapped up in black volcanic sand, which glistened. I took off my sandals and dug my toes into the dark powder, looking out at the sparkling water. Nirved brought three huge mats and we slumped down on them.

Dave took off his shirt and waded into the water, a smile shone on his face right before he dove under. Benjamin laughed and followed him, a few of my colleagues stripped down to their swimsuits and ran in.

Alice was smiling as she watched the group splashing in the water, and slowly untied her shirt, pulled down her shorts, and walked to the water's edge. She was wearing a black top and white bikini bottom. I watched her from behind, noting how she gathered her blonde hair into a top knot, her movements graceful. Flashes of memory lit my mind, her skin under my fingertips, under my lips.

Damn. I did not need to remember it, I did not want it. These dark memories of limbs tangled in sheets, the air between us, her fast breathing.

I dropped back to the mat and squeezed my eyes shut, rubbing my fingers over them. A shuffle by my side brought me back.

"She's kind of enigmatic, isn't she?" Olga asked.

I didn't reply.

"You knew Alice before, right?" she asked again.

I nodded with my hand still pressed to my eyes.

"It's complicated," I said.

"Everything is these days," she said. "There's a beach bar a mile down the shore, I saw it on Maps. Fancy a drink?"

"God, yes, please."

I sprang up from the mat, my knees crunching, and grabbed my sandals. Olga said to a colleague who sat with closed eyes, her face lifted to the sun, that we were going to a bar, she nodded.

The sand beneath my feet was so soft, as if silk threads wove between my toes. I watched the hem of white foam meeting the black sand as Olga walked quietly by my side.

"I wish I didn't come here," I said, finally lifting my eyes.

"I'm sorry," Olga said. "She watches you, you know."

I rubbed my forehead. "We were a couple in university, kind of."

"Does Benjamin know?"

"I don't think so."

Why was I telling her? I looked at the woman walking by my side. She was wearing white shorts and a blue shirt, dark hair cropped short, her wrist hugged by numerous bracelets. She was a vault, she never gossiped, never showed any emotion, any preference. I had always liked her quietness.

"What do you think will happen if Benjamin finds out?" she asked.

"It's not me who kept it secret in the first place."

Olga nodded. "That's why we are here, right?"

"Maybe."

"Alice doesn't seem like a bad person, she has kind eyes, and is sort of sad. Did she hurt you?" Olga asked, her green eyes watching my face.

I took a deep breath, rubbing my forehead again. "She left me."

But suddenly I was angry, so angry that I kicked the small stone with my toe and immediately regretted it.

"I don't know why we are here, what she wants, what game she's playing. Or why she dragged the whole team into her murky scheme," I said.

"Well, as far as I know, this merge brought only positive change for everyone. Finally, we can work remotely, and no one has complained about the pay rise, so don't worry about us."

"I'm sorry."

"Everyone loves it here, our app is kind of a big deal now. I thought it was pure luck, but it seems we had help … Will you talk to Alice?"

We reached a small bend, and a string of voices and light music touched my ears.

Finally. I leaned on the counter and ordered local rum with Cola. Olga perched on a bar stool by my side and ordered the same. Not that the menu had a long list. Just three items, featuring rum and Ceylon arrack. Well, at least my plastic cup had an umbrella. I smiled.

"I guess I'd have to," I finally said, and Olga nodded as if there had been no pause.

We undressed to our swimsuits and dipped our feet into the warm water. It was easy to talk to Olga. She was an avid traveler and, with her husband who worked remotely for years, they planned to pack all they had in a storage unit and leave for Bali as soon as our project was settled.

"I just feel so much calmer there. Not in America, not back home in Ukraine. But on the waves with a surfboard, on a bike between the rice fields, swimming at the foot of the waterfall. We already found a villa to rent," she said.

I confessed that I had never really traveled and that it was my dream, but as I was saying it, I was not sure it really was so important to me after all.

Olga watched me closely. "Often it's not about the place you go to, but about the person who shares those moments with you."

I nodded and turned to the water.

The peace and quiet didn't last, because not long after we finished our drinks a group of familiar faces joined us. All of them sitting by the water's edge, watching the sun going down, the sky painted with a honeyed hue of orange and pink.

Olga stood up, and walked into the water, watching the sun, and dove under. When she emerged she chuckled.

"Come," she said to no one in particular.

And I watched as our team, people who were the best at their jobs, stood up and ran, splashing, and I was among them, giggling in the water.