Page 90 of Hula Girl

“Well, if you’re sure you have the time,” he says.

“For you, Randall, I absolutely do.”

* * *

And so,I don’t rush to the airport to intercept Ford. I don’t make a wild, romantic gesture to declare my love for the man who so suddenly and completely won my heart.

The best I can do is text him from the car while driving to Randall’s.

I heard about the charity initiative. Well done. You are a hell of a lawyer. Anyone ever tell you that? Well, anyway, I’m proud of you. Hope you make it home safe and sound.

Once at Randall’s, I watch the clock, watch the minutes tick by as they get closer to Ford’s eleven o’clock flight.

In exchange, I get time with Randall.Realtime. It’s the exact right opportunity to speak honestly with him and his wife, Alice. It’s when they both share that he has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I let them talk through all their fears and hopes in how they’ll deal with everything in the coming years. Years, that is, if he’s lucky. He’s got the best medical care and a great support system, so there is a good chance that he’ll be able to extend his quality of life. I steer the discussion toward next steps with the firm. It’s hard, I’m not going to lie. Randall is torn up about stepping down. But he’s also realistic. Together, we work out a plan that he seems to find comfort in. In the end, that’s the best that I can do for him.

* * *

It’slate by the time I say my goodbyes to Randall and Alice, but I don’t want to go home. Instead of heading to my place, I drive to my mom’s.

When she answers the door, she’s already in her pajamas. But she doesn’t hesitate in ushering me inside.

I sit at the kitchen table while she makesTajinpopcorn as I tell her all about my day.

“I’m sorry,mija,” she tells me as she joins me. She puts her hand on mine and gives me a smile that says so much more. I don’t need words. I know she understands how I feel.

“Did you know,” Mama says thoughtfully, “that when your father asked me to take a chance on him, it was in that same countryside you’ve been to?”

This sounds familiar, but I can’t quite square it with the story she had told Ford and me about how they met at El Jardín.

“Remember,mija, we told you before that he proposed to me under the shade of this big Encino tree out in a pasture. Though it was barely spring, the day was warm. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was so quiet. Well, except for the birds. And the wind in the tall grass. But besides that, all I could hear after he asked, after he gave me his theory about us and the universe, was my heartbeat. It was … unforgettable.”

“I love that image. Oh, you and Papa were so perfect.”

“Surely not perfect. But perfect for each other, I think.”

I scoop another handful of popcorn into my mouth and nod. “Mama?”

“Yes?”

“Why did you bring that up?

She shrugs. “I suppose I’ve been thinking of your father a lot more than usual lately. It’s nice to share these stories. To keep the memories alive. To cherish what a special thing we had.”

We both have watery eyes.

“But I’m not the only one who has been thinking of him more lately,” she continues.

Tilting my head, I realize she’s remembering that I’ve confided in Ford about my father more than once. First, on our first date at Makai’s. Then, during our first night in LA when we stumbled upon Angel’s Flight.

“It feels good to share those memories with someone you can trust, doesn’t it?”

“I … it does,” I admit.

She’s gently nudging me to understand that in Ford I have found an exceedingly rare thing—someone I can trust. Of course, she knows that I’ve spent a lot of years keeping that kind of intimacy at arm’s length, and now she seems happy to see that I’ve let down my guard. Let down my walls, as Ford would say. I’ve never done that with anyone else.

All this makes me wonder if I could ever look back at the time Ford and I had together with as much satisfaction as she does the time she had with my father. Granted, it’s not the same. She had seventeen years with the love of her life. I didn’t even have seventeen days with Ford. Thinking of him makes me smile, but that soon fades because I know that we haven’t had enough time together. Our storyisn’tover. I don’t know exactly how the next part of us will play out, but I do know that it has to.

It has to.

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