The Island(8)

“How was your day?” Tom asked her.

“We all had a nap and then I took the kids to the beach. How was your day?”

“Fun. I met the local bigwigs in orthopedic surgery. We swapped knee stories. Australian knees are as crappy as American knees. Thank goodness,” Tom said, kissing her.

“Did you see I won? Oh, no kissing, please!” a triumphant Olivia said, coming into the kitchen with Owen trailing behind her.

Tom laughed. “Listen, I’ve got a number of recommendations for dinner places. And then tomorrow, while I work on my speech, you guys can chill.”

“Forget chilling! We haven’t seen a single cool animal since we got here,” Owen said. “Jake said on my Instagram that he thinks I’m really in Utah.”

“I’m sure Jake was only teasing.”

“Dad, please! We can’t stay here! We have to explore a bit before we go home. We have to at least see some koalas. Please, please, please!” Owen said, and even Olivia joined in with an only semi-sarcastic final “please.”

“I think they make a fair point,” Heather offered.

“Didn’t you want to go to those wineries we talked about?” Tom asked.

Heather shook her head. “Let’s do something for the kids.”

Tom nodded wearily. “All right, I’ll think about it,” he said.





3



Tom woke just before the dawn. The inevitable adrenaline dump after a busy day meeting people had sent him straight to sleep. Heather was snoring softly as he slipped carefully out of the bed. He watched her for a moment or two and smiled broadly. She was the best. She was so funny, mellow, and sweet. The kids weren’t quite sold on her yet, but they’d get there. Judith wouldn’t have come to Australia in a million years, but for Heather, everything was an adventure.

He went to the roof, sat by the pool, and meditated for ten minutes, breathing deep and surfing the now. Then he did fifty push-ups followed by fifty sit-ups. This was a routine he’d been doing since his early days in medical school as a way of calming his mind and keeping himself focused. He could never have coped this past year without his morning rituals.

Next, Tom went downstairs, got a drink of water, and called the car-rental place. He was annoyed to discover that the Porsche Cayenne he had reserved was no longer available. He would have to take either the E-Hybrid or an older Turbo.

“I wanted the new Cayenne. I called about it last night,” he said, trying to control his temper.

“I’m sorry, sir, we don’t have any in the lot. The customer before you got the last one. We have the Turbo or the E-Hybrid. The hybrid is our top Porsche rental, it’s—”

“No, thank you. It’s a long drive. There is no way I would ever trust a hybrid!”

“We do have a BMW SUV for—”

“I’ll take the Turbo. Can you get it over here by nine o’clock? I’d like to make an early start. We’re at three Wordsworth Street in St. Kilda.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tom hung up, steaming. No one ever did their job. No one.

He changed into shorts and a T-shirt, pulled on his sneakers, and went for a run along the shore. Then it was upstairs to the swimming pool. He dove into the water and did a lap or two before coming back inside. He showered, and because the mirror was steamed, he shaved with the electric razor using his phone camera. He’d lost weight on this trip and it suited him. He looked like a young Ted Hughes.

“You did it, buddy. You survived the past year. I’m proud of you, partner,” he said to Phone-Camera Tom. “A paper in the Journal of Orthopedic Surgery. International conferences. Keynote addresses. Success at forty-four. Who would have thought it? If Judith could see you now, she’d be happy for you.”

Phone-Camera Tom thought about that for a second and slowly shook his head.

He wrapped himself in a towel and went into the bedroom. Heather appeared from a closet door he hadn’t noticed before. She was wearing a robe and listening to that “212” song she loved and he hated.

“Where have you been?” Tom asked.

“Narnia,” she said.

Tom grinned. “Do anything interesting?”

“Queen stuff…and, you know, I could slip out of my royal garb pretty quick,” she whispered.

“The kids?”

“Are sound asleep.”

She stripped and he stripped and they fell onto the bed. They made love for the first time since they’d left America, climaxing together as sunlight streamed through the shutters. Heather rested on Tom’s chest.

She kissed him on the chin. “You missed a spot when you were shaving.”

“I’ll fix it.”

“I like it. It gives you a hipster, Zappa-esque quality.”

Tom shook his head. “People like their doctors to look boring. Boring and calm and competent.”

“You’re two of those things,” Heather said, kissing him again.

Tom closed his eyes. “This has been a hard year for all of us. And I’ve been trying, haven’t I?”

“You have,” Heather said. “We all have.”

“I really love you, babe,” Tom said, kissing her back.

“I love you too…uh-oh. Everything OK?” she asked. “Now you’ve got a worry wrinkle in your forehead.”