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We all giggle again and have a mouthful of wine.
“Seriously, though,” Juliette says, “I love you from the bottom of my heart for what you’ve done for the guy. Not every woman would have stood by him the way you’ve done.”
“It’s been tough at times,” Gaby admits, in a rare moment of honesty. She’s not normally one to share her innermost thoughts, and keeps her feelings close to her chest. I guess the alcohol we’ve imbibed this evening has loosened her lips a little, or maybe it’s just the thought that she’s going to promise to love him forever that’s made her feel able to confess. “I mean, I’ve never had doubts, but he felt guilty that I stayed, and he tried to push me away for a long time.”
“I didn’t know that,” I murmur, my heart going out to her. She was only nineteen when Tyson had his accident, and they’d only been dating for a year. It would have been so easy for her to declare she had the rest of her life ahead of her and break off with him, but she never faltered once.
She leans her head on her hand, her eyes half-lidded with sleepiness and alcohol. “I’d just started uni, so I was living in Wellington by then, and you and I didn’t see much of each other.”
I was sixteen, so I only saw her when she came to Christchurch. “I wish I’d been there more for you, though,” I admit.
“You were so young,” she says, “I didn’t like to worry you. You had enough on your plate.” Her eyes meet mine for a moment. I can see the guilt in them. There are a lot of things we haven’t talked about that we probably should have. It’s too late now, though. Too much water under the bridge.
“Besides,” she continues, “I had all the guys. They were so supportive. There was always one of them to run me to the hospital or pick me up. I don’t know what I’d have done without them.”
“Here’s a question for you,” Aroha says. Because she’s known Gaby since high school, she’s met the guys many times. “Out of them all: Tyson, Henry, James, Damon, and Alex—if you had to have dinner with one, kiss one, have sex with one, marry one, and murder one, which would you choose for which purpose?”
“I’d murder Alex,” I say without missing a beat, and we all giggle.
Gaby rolls her eyes. “Well it wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t say Tyson for all of them except murder, would it?”
Aroha blows a raspberry. “This is fantasy. We won’t tell anyone.” She grins at Juliette. “You go first.”
“I’d have dinner with Alex,” she says. “Kiss Damon. Have sex with Henry. Marry Tyson. And murder James.”
We all burst into laughter. “Sex with Henry?” Gaby teases. “Really?”
“He’s gorgeous,” she says with a shrug. “I like that he’s big.” She lifts her eyebrows, and we all snort.
“And murder James?” I ask, puzzled. “Over Alex? Seriously?”
“Alex can cook. James can’t make toast without setting something alight.”
“Not really a cause for murder,” I say, “but I get your point,” and we all laugh again.
“What about you?” I ask Gaby.
“Hmm… I’d also have dinner with Alex because yes, he can cook, kiss Henry because, well, why not, have sex with Tyson, marry Damon, and oh God, I’d probably murder James too. Poor James.”
“I’m giving you the opportunity to have sex with any of them, and you’d get off with your fiancé,” Aroha comments. “I don’t know if that’s romantic or just sad.”
“He’s got a great tongue,” Gaby says with a smirk, then dissolves into giggles as our eyebrows rise. “Besides,” she says, “we have to keep working on his rehab. Years ago we were told that his sexual function would improve with regular use. At least that was his reason for wanting a daily workout. I never considered he might have been lying.”
We all laugh again, because we’re meant to. I have nothing but admiration for her, though. Although she’s never gone into details, I know the accident severely affected Tyson below the waist. Clearly, though, they’ve managed to maintain and even improve their sexual relationship, which makes me a tad tearful when I think of how much they’ve been through.
“What about you?” Juliette asks Aroha. “Who would you choose?”
“Hmm…” Aroha thinks about it. She’s a beautiful Maori girl, slim and stunning, with light-brown skin, dark wavy hair, and a long tattoo curving up her right forearm, each curl and line detailing herwhakapapaor genealogy. “Let’s work backwards. I’d murder Henry.”
“Aw, why?” Juliette asks.
“Because he’s so quiet! I love a guy who talks.”
“That’s true,” Juliette admits. “But he says so much with his eyes.”
I glance at Gaby, who winks at me. It’s clear that Henry’s her favorite. It’s a shame she’s spoken for now he’s finally single.
“I’d marry Alex,” Aroha continues, “because although he comes across as gruff and grumpy, he’s quite the gentleman, and I think he’d treat his girl well.”
