“Perfect,” I grin.
With that decided, I lead the two of them down the hall and out one of the doors leading down to the beachfront café. “So,” I ask them as we walk, “Where are you guys visiting from?”
“New York,” Brendon answers.
“Oh, really? What part?” I ask, “I’m actually from Queens, originally.”
“Staten Island,” Brendon answers, “Born and raised. Although Hazel’s originally from Ohio.”
“Nice, that’s awesome.”
“What brought you out here from the city?” Hazel asks, curious.
After all these years, that question shouldn’t still feel like a static shock directly to the brain, but somehow it still does. The real answer is ugly and complicated, and not a rabbit hole I’m eager to dive down right now, so I give a highly abridged and sanitized version.
“I lost my job out there, lease was up, and I was kind of out of options, so a buddy of mine told me about the opening here. He’d come for a vacation and then just never left, and once I got out here, it was pretty easy to see why.”
“No kidding,” Hazel agrees, “I certainly can’t blame him. It’s too bad you wouldn’t have much use for a kindergarten teacher out here.”
“We do actually have a daycare and kid’s area and stuff, so you might be surprised,” I tell her, “Admittedly, they don’t tend to be super busy, we don’t get too many families out here, but still.”
“Hmm,” Hazel murmurs thoughtfully.
Brendon chuckles. “Maybe we should actually try staying here a few days before you decide to uproot your whole life, hmm?”
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t want to stay here in paradise forever?” Hazel sighs, stretching and basking in the warm sun like a cat.
“It’s not for everyone, believe it or not,” I inform her, “Especially on an island like this.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
We’ve made it to the café, and we seat ourselves at a table. I deliberately choose one closest to the shore, in an attempt to set the pair up with the best view possible. “Well, I mean, yes, the resort basically has everything, but sometimes you just want to go out for a fast-food burger or do some aimless shopping. But here on Jalokivi Meren, those things aren’t really an option, at least not right now.”
“I guess I get that,” Hazel nods.
“Yeah, I honestly can’t imagine,” Brendon admits, “It sounds like even paradise can get pretty stagnant.”
“Exactly,” I agree, “And with it being beautiful and sunshiny year-round, it can really mess with your sense of time. Every day kind of feels the same as the last, so you start to lose track.”
“How long have you been living here?” Hazel asks.
“I moved out here about six years ago. Sometimes it feels like I just got here yesterday, other days I feel like I’ve been out here my whole life.”
Our conversation is put on pause when our server, Kelsey, comes by to take our drink orders.
After jotting them down, she walks away, and Hazel starts looking over the menu. “You said something about stuff not being an option right now,” Brendon says, looking thoughtful, “Does that mean they’re planning on adding stuff to the island?”
I nod. “Yeah, they’re talking to some business owners on the mainland about bringing some more stuff here and developing some of the empty areas on the island. They’ve already opened this little boutique jewelry place and there’s a clothing shop opening early next year. But they aren’t looking at bringing chains or anything, they’re trying to keep things restricted to more unique places, so this place doesn’t just turn into everywhere else.”
“I like that,” Hazel remarks, “There’s a million places where you can find the usual stuff, so I like that they’re trying to keep this place special and one-of-a-kind.”
Brendon nods in agreement and I smile. “Yeah, Jalokivi Meren is definitely a one-of-a-kind place,” I say, “In about a million ways.”
In addition to being a resort private island, the very atmosphere of the island is one completely unique to it. Whereas other places like this, that cater to wealthy clientele, might feel sort of stuck up and snobby, there’s none of that here.
Jalokivi Meren is a place of acceptance. The general attitude of the owners is “Come as you are, you’re welcome here,” and that attitude flows into the rest of the staff. And because of the way we very vocally advertise our inclusivity, we don’t tend to get a lot of the assholes. Of course, there are exceptions, but the owners also don’t put up with any bullshit.
They opened the resort with the intention of creating a safe space for people to unwind, enjoy, and be themselves. Having dealt with homophobia as a male-male couple, they knew firsthand just how ugly the world could be, and so they’d built their own personal oasis away from it all, one they now choose to share with others.