Page 66 of Hula Girl

“Thank you,” he says on a sigh. “It still catches me by surprise to think of them as being gone. They visited us a lot in Maui when I was growing up. My grandmother was always thinking of me. She used to send me clippings from the newspaper whenever she thought I’d be interested in something she saw. My grandfather used to take me out to fly kites. They were good people.”

I take a lesson in how he’s responded to my condolences. He not only accepts it with thanks, but shares his feelings about them and about having lost them. That’s what he had urged me to do with my father. And when I allowed myself to do that, I did feel better. It seems the alternative is to sort of push those feelings aside and that’s not fair to yourself or to the memory of the person you lost. It makes me realize what a special person Ford is.

Releasing my hold on him, I sit back and try to shake off this sentiment. It’s only going to get me into trouble to dwell on what a gorgeous, smart, amazing person he is. Not to mention how incredible he is in bed.

“Finally,” he says, and flicks the turn signal to exit the freeway. “I do not miss LA traffic, I can tell you that.”

I’d been so caught up in either focusing on him or pretending to look at my phone that I haven’t kept track of where we’re going. Looking up, I see that we’re taking Dodger Stadium Way exit, and tears fill my eyes once more.

“Are we—” I can’t get out the whole question because I’m too choked up.

We’re stopped at a red light when he turns to me. “Listen, I want you to know that I’m not trying to replace the memories you have with your father by taking you to a game for the first time since he passed. I hope coming back today is a way for you to honor him. To honor the closeness you had with him. And also, maybe, to experience this all anew. To create new memories and know that he would probably really like that for you.” He takes a deep breath and winces a little on the exhale, as if he’s not sure he said the right thing. “What do you think?”

What do Ithink?

Ithinkit’s the most wonderful thing any man has ever done for me.

Ithinkhe’s exceptionally thoughtful and sweet.

Ithinkthat there’s absolutely no way I can keep from falling for him.

And here’s what Ifeel: To hell with holding back. To hell with trying to protect my heart. Because there’s no stopping how good he makes me feel. I just want more of this. I want more ofhim. Even if I know this is going to end.

Unless ….

Unless I start using the huge backlog of vacation time I have and make regular visits to Maui.

That’s something I can figure out later. For now, I throw my arms around his neck and kiss his mouth and his cheek over and over, all while he smiles broadly and tries not to run off the road when the light turns green and I don’t stop my attack on him.

26

Ford

I’d wanted Ava to experience the Dodgers in a different way from how it had been with her father. She had said they sat in the nose-bleed seats when they came to the stadium. I’ve arranged for the very opposite. We’re not only sitting on the field level, but it’s VIP all the way before that.

We’re directed to the parking lot right next to the Players’ Lot, and the look on Ava’s face is priceless. Her eyes get even bigger when we enter the stadium by the outfield and keep walking toward home plate, only to then head downstairs to the Dugout Club.

“I’ve only ever heard of this place,” she says excitedly as she holds onto my arm with both hands.

Her response is exactly what I hoped for. She’s ecstatic by the very prospect of what she’s about to see with this exclusive access. Her eyes are wide as we walk through the hallways showcasing to glorious effect Dodgers baseball history, including photos of Hall of Famers, framed jerseys of players whose number has been retired, World Series trophies, Golden Glove awards, Louisville Silver Slugger awards, and Cy Young awards. Knowing I had a part in putting that expression of awe on her face is such a good feeling. Almost as good as when she threw her arms around me in the car and covered my face in kisses. That was some kind of shift. She had been trying so hard to guard herself against letting me in, not realizing that it was too late. She’d let me in when we were in Maui. She let me see her. Know her. But she convinced herself that being free and open with me was safe since it was only temporary. Thing is, I’m not willing to let her go. I’m not willing to act as if we don’t have something incredible together. And it feels like she’s closer than ever to admitting the same thing, too.

I stand back and watch when she lingers at Fernando Valenzuela’s Cy Young award. The pitcher is originally from Mexico and became a hero to his countrymen as well as Latinos here back in his heyday of the 1980s. Odds are good that he was a sports idol for Ava’s father, too.

That seems to be confirmed when she turns to me with tears shining in her eyes. “This is so incredible, Ford,” she says. “Really, it’s more special than you can even imagine.”

I wrap my arm around her just as she leans into my chest and kiss the top of her head.

This is a much better feeling than where we were this morning. We both know there aren’t any answers to this thing we’re doing, but I think we’re agreed on allowing ourselves the chance to enjoy it while we can.

“You want more time here?” I ask.

“I’m good. And ready for a Dodger Dog.”

Laughing, I steer her to the Dugout Club restaurant where there is indeed a Dodger Dog station with special add-on toppings, but also higher-end offerings like a prime rib carving station and a full bar. But Ava walks past it all without registering the lavish displays. The sound of batting practice has lured her out toward the field and our seats.

I watch as her hand flies to her mouth at the wonder of being this close—no more than a few yards—to the players.

“Jesus, they’re big in real life, aren’t they?” I ask as I come up behind her and wrap my arm around her chest.

---