Page 5 of Hula Girl

“Mija?”

She sounds groggy. Shit. I remember too late that I’m running three hours behind Los Angeles time.

“I’m sorry, Mama. Go back to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I tell her.

“No, it’s okay.”

I can hear the rustle of bedding as she’s likely sitting up.

“I forgot about the time difference. You need your rest. Go back to sleep.” I know she’ll be up at four thirty in the morning, just like she has for as long as I can remember. She doesn’t just run her business, she’s hands-on, and that means she’s scrubbing bathrooms and kitchens alongside her staff, as well as sorting out the accounting, HR, and marketing. Not that she would ever define her job duties in that way. Her company isn’t big. It’s a handful of women who each give their all to clean four to five homes a day.

When I was growing up, my mother was a housewife but would do the odd job of cleaning houses for some side money. When my father passed away, the occasional job turned into a hustling full-time for as many houses to clean as possible. I was only a teenager at the time, but I understood, without her having to admit it, that we were in trouble financially. She also barely held on emotionally. She and my father were the perfect couple, so clearly in love, so clearly meant for each other. Her devastation was so great that it didn’t leave room for me to dwell in my own sadness. Not when I instinctively knew I was the only thing keeping her going. I grew up fast, knowing I had to step in and get us through the roughest time of our lives.

When we decided to make a real business out of the housecleaning service, I suggested we target customers in San Marino, the wealthy enclave of Pasadena. With hard-working, reliable employees that provided impeccable services, she created a niche for herself in the area. She’s also earned intense loyalty from her staff by paying them well.

That kind of selflessness is on display now as she says, “I’m awake, Ava. Tell me about your vacation.”

There’s no use in arguing with her. I got my stubborn streak from her, after all.

“What can I say? It’s beautiful.”

“But?”

Of course, she can hear the lack of enthusiasm in my voice.

“But, I’m going stir-crazy. I think I have island fever.”

Mama stifles a laugh. “You’ve been there for three days,mija. Enjoy your time off.”

“But all I want to do is log on to my work email and check on a few things—”

“You said Randall forbade you from doing that.”

I sigh. “I know. But what if everything is falling apart? Shouldn’t I at least take a quick look?”

“You mean you want to see how they’re resolving the issue that sent you away.”

Opening my mouth to speak, I think better of it and let the silence spread out between us.

“It’s going to be okay,” Mama says. “Everyone makes mistakes. From what you told me it wasn’t all that big of a deal.”

“Idon’t make mistakes, that’s the thing. You’re right, it is something that can be handled, but the fact that it ever even happened is what I can’t get over.”

“No one is perfect, not even you.”

“I should have been perfect at that deposition, though. I could have been.”

“Don’t you think this is more to do with Bryce than some silly mistake?”

“Mama, no.” I shake my head in frustration.

The fact is, I hadn’t seen Bryce since I left his sister’s house on Christmas Eve. I’d wanted to call him to try to smooth over the way I ended things, but the fact that he never reached out to me made me hold back. It proved our relationship amounted to nothing more than wasted time.

But then I came face-to-face with him at a client deposition. He hadn’t been the attorney on record but was filling in for an ill colleague. That threw me, but worse still was the way he acted as if we didn’t know each other. We’d always been professional whenever we crossed paths for work, but that didn’t keep us from being friendly or even slipping each other a knowing wink or a whispered flirt. At that deposition, though, he was ice cold. It disturbed me enough that I fumbled during the testimony. I put our side at a disadvantage because my head was elsewhere. The worst part was I only realized my mistake when I saw the condescending smirk on his face.

Even though I’ve never admitted the effect he had on me that day, both my mother and my boss sensed the truth. Randall, kindly suggested I was overworked and sent me here to Maui, insisting that a change of scenery and the chance to decompress would work wonders.

“Okay, my girl,” Mama says. “But maybe really give this time a chance to help you … re-set?”

---