Page 35 of Catch a Wave
“How’s that going?” The teasing lilt in her voice and sparkle in her eyes helps me see my reality with an ounce of humor.
“It’s going.”
I don’t say anything else. And Summer, surprisingly, doesn’t push. I’m used to Leilani. She could make pushing others into a profession or a sport. Leilani’s a champion, world-class pusher. And I love her for it. Mostly.
But this is nice too, just being with someone, knowing I don’t have to spill the beans or make any changes. And that someone isSummer Monroe! My inner fangirl squeals, while outwardly I’m chill. At least I hope I am. Summer acts like she’s just another young woman with ambitions and feelings and a life she’s building. But I saw her face on the big screen. She’s a star. It’s a little intimidating, even though she’s doing her best to make this all feel normal.
We drive up a hill and a different part of the coastline comes into view off to our right, the beaches are less occupied, no resort loungers or umbrellas, just sand and rocky outcroppings and the waves pulling in and pushing out. The tide is high right now, but the waves are mushy, ending in a foamy shorepound. There must be a dropoff somewhere offshore here.
“Are you sizing up the ocean?”
“It’s my second-nature. Must be a reef there with a dropoff in the near distance.”
“There is. It’s jagged underfoot at spots, but then there’s a softer spot and, like you said, a dropoff a little way out. It’s impressive that you can tell that by a mere glance. I kayak the shoreline a lot. It’s a way for me to forget everything and lose myself. You know?”
“Do I ever.”
“So, you and Bodhi? Friends, huh?” Summer circles back to the topic I’m trying hard to avoid.
“I had such a grudge against him. And I guess I still do. I don’t know.”
“I can’t imagine you’re really in the headspace to decide where you stand with your ex-boyfriend. You’re coming off a hugely traumatic experience.”
“That’s beyond true.”
I need a change of subject. Though, talking to Summer has been calming in a way I didn’t expect. She’s not Leilani who has her own history with Bodhi and a healthy-sized grudge to nurse on my behalf. Summer loves Bodhi, you can tell. And, yet, she’s not biased against me.
“So, tell me about Phyllis.” I’m curious about this woman we’re going to meet—especially after Bodhi said she’s a kick in the pants.
“There’s just no way to describe her. She’s quirky, but not in a weird way. Full of wisdom. Kind of like the grandma you always wished you had, except one who’ll drive you off a cliff if you let her behind the wheel. Do not get in a golf cart with her. Consider yourself forewarned.”
“Gotcha.” I smile.
Back home, extended relatives were always around. Some of them lived in our neighborhood, others on Kawaii and the Big Island. I’m used to being surrounded by elderly family members. They always pulled us kids aside to share legends and stories with us, taking every opportunity to drill the island ways into ourhearts and minds. Hawaiian pride is a generational gift and my tutu wahine made sure I received it.
We pull a left onto a street lined with beachy little shops that are so quaint I almost ask Summer to park so we can go exploring. She steers up some light hills and we’re in neighborhoods with cottage homes. She parks in front of a house that’s larger than most. A set of broad wooden steps lead up to a wide porch. A swing is hung on the far end and some chairs are set out around a tea table to the side of the doorway.
“This is it. Phyllis’ home.”
An older woman with wavy gray hair comes out the front door. She’s wearing a pair of palazzo pants and a gauzy blouse with a patterned silk scarf around her neck. She looks like she could be Meryl Streep’s sister.
She waves and Summer shouts out, “I brought you a treat, Phyllis! This is Kalaine. She’s Bodhi’s ex-girlfriend, Kai’s sister. And, best of all, she’s a big-wave surfer!”
That last sentence glues me to my seat.Best of all.
I shake the urge to pout and spiral into self-pity, and turn so I can put my weight on my good foot to get out of the cart.
“Welcome!” Phyillis says. “I’m so glad you came. Summer told me she was bringing a guest. I’ve got tea and lemonade, or if you want something warm or spiked, I’ve got that too.”
I smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“Goodness, you’re a vision. Aren’t you just beautiful?” Phyllis says as I approach her.
“Thank you.”
“Isn’t she stunning, Summer? Are you a Pacific Islander?”
“Phyllis! Give the woman a moment to hobble up here before you start taking the Census Bureau forms out to check her nationality.”
