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“I’m glad you like it,” she says. “Even if you didn’t, greenstone is one of those gifts that’s good luck to receive. It’s not custom to actually buy one for yourself.”
I cup her face in my hands and kiss her forehead, her nose, her chin, then her lips. I know this is the first public display of affection we’ve shown in front of her family, but I don’t care.
They know. They would know from our gifts alone. We may not be in a relationship but whatever we have, it’s something special. Something worth holding on to. I want nothing more than to take her upstairs and make love to her on the bed, like she asked.
But this is not the time or place. I just put my arm around her waist and haul her to me, grinning like an idiot. She laughs, burying her face into my neck. I’m lucky, so lucky, just to have this.
It’s the best Christmas I’ve ever had.
Chapter Nineteen
GEMMA
It’s Boxing Day and already hot as hell by nine a.m. We’ve—and by that I mean my mother, Auntie Jolinda, Uncle Jeremy, Keri, Kam, Josh, and I—have gathered in the driveway to say goodbye to Amber. Josh and I are still taking her to the airport but everyone else has to give her hugs and wish her well; Uncle Jeremy even tries to demonstrate the Maori tradition of the hongi, pressing his nose and forehead against hers and shaking her hand. She does it and manages to keep a straight face, too. Not that she feels much like laughing.
In fact, she’s kind of a weepy mess all the way to the airport, which makes me feel like crying, too. I manage to hold it together, though, but just barely. I’m really going to miss that girl, and she’s right—I’m going to think of her every time I hear Pink Floyd.
I park Mr. Orange in the temporary car park and it’s hard to even get her out of the bus. When she does emerge, she runs her hands down his tangerine sides and pats him like you would a horse on the rump.
“Thanks for the memories,” she says to Mr. Orange. She stares at him for a moment, like she’s waiting for him to reciprocate, then joins me and Josh as we head toward the airport.
The Hawkes Bay Airport is small, so there’s not much waiting around. She checks in for her flight, gets her tickets, and then we have to say goodbye.
I give her a big hug, bigger than I normally do. Josh does the same. She holds back the tears in her eyes and says she’s going to miss us. She adds “heaps” at the end, proud of her Kiwi phrasing, then turns just as she’s about to sob, hiding her tears and scurrying away to security, her kimono jacket flowing behind her.
She’s going to be just fine in Australia. More than fine. I can’t wait to see her updates on Facebook.
Instinctively, I grab Josh’s hand, feeling the loss of her already. We were four, then we were three, and now we are two. It’s just me and him, and I’m both excited and scared. There’s pressure on us now that she’s gone—on how we’ll act around each other, what we’ll say, how we’ll get along. The dynamic has changed.
I loop my fingers through his and he pulls my hand up and kisses it, his mouth warm and real, his eyes looking deep into mine. His eye contact can be so unnerving at times, like he really is searching for my soul, but I’m growing used to it. He’s starting to feel as close to me as a second skin.
There’s a heaviness in the air when we get back to Mr. Orange, the result of Amber’s absence. It feels weird, so I pop in Mr. Floyd to help balance the mood. “Fearless” starts playing, as it has many times before, but now it makes the short drive back from the airport a dreamy trip, green flying past us on one side, blue on the other, sunshine streaming down the middle. I curl up into the song, wishing I could be fearless.
I’m starting to think I’m losing it a bit. When I saw his Christmas present, I could have cried. It was just a drawing and a promise of more to come, but it was everything to me. When he put my greenstone around his neck, I nearly ran out the door from fear.
But it was a sweet kind of fear. The fear that hope hinges on.
I knew that Uncle Jeremy wanted to explain what the necklace really meant, but I’m glad he left that up to me. It’s true it’s a symbol of infinity, the twist going on and on, like a snake eating a snake eating a snake. But what it really means, for me anyway, is that he put his stamp on my heart, and no matter what happens in the future that won’t go away. It’ll go on and on, for infinity. This trip, this last month together, it can never be taken away from us. It means that, though we might take different paths, we will always be connected.
He’s wearing it around his neck right now and the green shines subtly against his tanned skin. The design even matches the swirl of some of his tattoos. It’s masculine and beautiful, just like him.
My Josh.
I blink a few times, trying not to think that way. But it’s hard. He really does feel like my Josh. We’re so undefined, so fleeting and fragile and new, but I don’t think he could belong to anyone else, and I couldn’t belong to anyone else but him.
So, for the next while, he’s still mine.
Later that night, after we get back, we fuck in my bedroom. Uncle Jeremy and the kids have gone back to Aramoana, and my mother and aunt have gone to sleep. We finally have the place to ourselves and we waste no time. I’m barely through the door before Josh is trying to tear my clothes off and I’m doing the same to him.
The necklace stays on.
He goes down on me first, teasing me slowly until I’m squeezing his head between my legs and I’m coming, hand over my mouth so my mother doesn’t hear.
