Page 83 of Catch a Wave

“Really?” Megan looks surprised.

“It’s just so Hollywood. We’re just us. We’re nothing special,” I tell Megan.

“You are,” Bodhi says.

I smile at him and mouth,so are you.

Megan looks over her shoulder at Denny. “Did you catch that?”

He nods. I had forgotten the photographer was even there. It should be odd to think of pictures of me and Bodhi along with all this personal information about us going out to total strangers. Over the past year, I’ve gotten a bit desensitized to all the publicity. At least around Oahu, we’re just another couple of surfers to most people. Everyone knows who we are, but no one treats us differently for it. Hawaii’s chill like that. People don’t make too big of a deal about anything.

“Well, thank you for your time, you two,” Megan says. “It really was a pleasure to meet with you. Denny is going to take some photos of you and then we’ll get out of your hair.”

22

KALAINE

How we handle our fears will determine

where we go with the rest of our lives.

~ Judy Blume

“Welcome to Mila’s Place,” I say to the couple who just stepped through the door. The husband is hanging back tugging two rolling bags behind him and looking around at the interior of the bed and breakfast. The wife approaches me and tells me the name for their reservation.

“Jennifer and Matt Wilhelm. This place is darling! Way cuter than the website, and that’s saying something.”

“Thank you. I hope your ferry ride over to the island was enjoyable.” I punch their name into the computer the way Mila showed me. Then I grab their room keys from the drawer.

“We’re glad you’re here. These are your keys. This one’s for your room. And this one opens the front and back doors if you enter after ten p.m. There’s a welcome basket on your dresser. You have full access to the grounds, and thereare complimentary bikes and kayaks available for your use. Breakfast is served between seven and nine each morning. Picnic lunches are available on request, and we offer Saturday dinner …” I glance at my computer screen. “... which I see you already reserved. Also, you can schedule a complimentary snorkeling or surf lesson with the Alicante Water Sports Shack on Descanso Beach.”

The wordswater sports shackdraw my mind to Bodhi and the kisses we shared yesterday.

We ate dinner with Kai and then the three of us walked to the beach for the bonfire. My eyes kept drifting to wherever Bodhi was throughout the night. Sometimes we stood next to one another, laughing and talking with friends. But, as happens at parties, we would invariably be separated. And when that happened, my eyes would seek Bodhi out. As soon as I located him, we’d share a private smile through the crowd.

Before the night ended, Bodhi and I sat together around the bonfire sharing a driftwood log as a chair. He didn’t put his arm around me or rest his hand on my knee. I didn’t lean my head on his shoulder. Aside from the hum of invisible longing and the memory of our kisses buzzing silently between us, we appeared like two friends enjoying a night on the beach—nothing more. We need to figure out what we’re doing, but there hasn’t been enough time alone to do that since Kai came home.

I came to Mila’s early this morning for my orientation. Most days, she won’t need me until mid-morning, so I’ll be able to keep my routine of walking to the beach with Bodhi and Shaka, watching him surf, and then coming home to get ready for work.

Mila must have heard the guests arrive, because she pops out from the kitchen area off to my right.

“Welcome to Mila’s place. I’m Mila. Did Kalaine get you checked in?”

“She did. We were about to go find our room.”

“Let me show you the way.”

Mila and our guests walk past the entry desk and through the living room. They pass the large dining room on their way to the stairs going up to one of the six bedrooms on the second story.

This home must have been designed for a family with ten or twelve children. There’s a huge front porch where Mila’s set up several separated seating areas and a porch swing. On this first floor there’s a kitchen that Mila’s had upgraded, but it still retains that vintage feel.

My desk sits along the back wall of the living room/family room, facing the double front doors. The back yard is huge. Mila explained that the original owners had built the house on two lots. Apparently, she inherited it, and now she’s running it single-handedly, with the support of her three aunts, all while raising her seven-year-old son.

I’m updating the Saturday menu on the inn’s website when the front door opens. I look up to see my brother sauntering through the entryway with a familiarity that tells me he knows his way around the place.

“Kai? What are you doing here?”

“I … uh. I came to see if the … uh … Well, Mila had a leak in the kitchen. I fixed it yesterday and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t causing her any other problems.”

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