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Samantha was more confused than ever. ‘So what? It’s not the only pool on the island. I promise you there are others.’
‘It has to be this one. I don’t want to get down on one knee at a random beach.’
‘Why?’ she and Roman asked in unison.
‘They say if you kiss under the water—’
Samantha covered her eyes with her hands and groaned. ‘I know what they say.’
‘If that were true, none of my cousins would be divorced,’ Roman said. ‘Pretty sure it’s something they made up to attract visitors like you.’
‘I get it,’ Jason said. ‘But Jas loves that kind of stuff.’
He had a point. On this trip more than ever, Jasmine seemed fascinated with the natural world, its beauty and mythology. While some women dreamed of proposals atop the Eifel Tower, she would appreciate this much more.
Jason looked to Samantha, then Roman. ‘You think it’s corny.’
‘Absolutely,’ Samantha said. ‘But just the right amount of corny.’
Roman approved. ‘Why the hell not? Go for it.’
‘Thanks, guys.’ Jason sighed, relieved. He went on to describe in some detail a vintage diamond ring with ruby accents. ‘It’s really beautiful.’
Samantha reassured him. ‘She’ll like the ring because she loves you.’
‘The thing is …’ Jason looked about worriedly. ‘Lately, every time the topic of marriage comes up, she’s been ambivalent. I can’t get a reaction from her.’
Samantha distinctively remembered Jasmine saying she didn’t believe in marriage, or something to that effect. She couldn’t tell Jason that. His water blue eyes were brimming with love, excitement, and hope. It wasn’t her place to break his heart. That would be up to Jasmine. However, she could tell Roman, which she did as soon as Jason went away and was well out of earshot.
‘Well,’ Roman said dryly. ‘That was triggering.’
‘Why is that?’
‘No reason.’
‘Should I have told him about Jasmine’s views on marriage? Maybe I should tell him.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘He’s got a ring in his pocket. He has to see this through.’
‘OK. But if this doesn’t work out, it’s all hands on deck. I’ll give Jasmine a shoulder to cry on. You make sure Jason doesn’t drown in the magic pool.’
‘It’s shallow. He couldn’t if he tried.’ He brushed a corkscrew curl away from her eyes and asked, ‘Feeling better, pretty lady?’
She was no longer feeling nauseous. However, she was feeling a whole lot of other things. ‘I feel great.’
With so much fun in store, how could she not?
The sun was high when they arrived at the Nylon Pool. All they had to do was leap off the boat into the shallow blue waters. This time, Samantha did not need a pep talk or a life coach. She joined her girlfriends at the edge of the deck. They dived in together in an unsynchronized fashion. Another glass-bottom boat pulled away, and they had the pool to themselves. Jen and Jasmine marvelled at the clarity of the water. Naomi exfoliated her limbs with fistfuls of coral sand. Samantha floated on her back and closed her eyes to the limitless sky. It made her feel small. That morning at sunrise, the voiceover yogi had left them with a mantra that kept tugging at her mind: Your future does not have to mirror your past.
Samantha craved change. Her break-up with Timothy only sharpened the craving. Her flailing love life didn’t mean her career couldn’t soar. She had stumbled into her line of work by luck of the draw. Desperate to start earning a living after graduation, she’d applied for a slew of jobs and accepted the first offer. The work was steady, the pay fine. She couldn’t even complain about her boss and co-workers. They were decent people and had always treated her well. Some had worked at the publication for decades and the newcomers hoped to replace the senior cadre as they marched off toward retirement. Samantha couldn’t fault them. It was a safe plan, a solid plan. However, she secretly yearned for more.
Samantha hadn’t confided in anyone except her mother, who’d advised her not to do anything rash. Timothy would not have understood. He had a temporary position. Each year, his employment status depended on the renewal of a grant. He envied her salaried position and paid time off. The last thing she’d wanted was to whine to him about her growing dissatisfaction. She thought of Roman. Was quitting a high-paying job in New York City to start a virtual consulting firm while chilling in the Caribbean a rash move? If so, could she do something similar?
Her moment of self-reflection came to an abrupt end once the guys plunged into the tranquil waters, disrupting the peace. Samantha straightened up and wiped water from her eyes. Hugo was headed her way. The tropical climate suited her friend. His complexion had deepened to a golden brown. He wore nothing but swimming trunks, sunglasses and designer slides. Sometimes he slipped on a tropical shirt, but not often.
He called out to her. ‘Hey, bestie, what’s up?’
‘Just soaking up the sun.’
