Page 36 of Catch a Wave
Phyllis laughs this full, yet feminine laugh. “Right. Right. I forget myself.”
Then she looks at me. “Watch yourself as you age, dear. The filters just disappear. It’s refreshing and very liberating, but also can be a bit much.”
“I don’t mind. And, I’m Hawaiian. My family is mostly from the North Shore of Oahu.”
“Oh, yes. I’ve been there. Years ago. Filmed there. And visited. I’ll tell you a secret.” Her voice is far too loud to be secretive. “I love Kawaii best.”
“I don’t blame you. It’s beautiful.”
“You know what we don’t have that Hawaii has?”
“Luaus?” I guess.
“Well, that too, now that you mention it. But we don’t have those wild chickens. I was enamored with them. They just roam around like any other bird, bold as you please.”
“Chickens are birds,” Summer says.
“Yes, but you should see the ones in Hawaii. Have you been?” Phyllis asks Summer.
“When I was young. Daddy always insisted on vacationing in certain places. Hawaii wasn’t one that made his list very often.”
Phyllis nods her head as if she knows some backstory.
Phyllis leads the way up the steps. “My sister is out for the day. But Mila’s coming by this afternoon. It’s a shame you’ll miss meeting both of them. Maybe next time.”
“Mila?” I ask as I make my way up to the porch. I grasp the railing and go slowly. I didn’t even need a crutch today, so that’s progress.
“Mila’s my niece, but she’s more like a daughter to me. She runs a little bed and breakfast on this side of the island. We call it the North Shore too.” Phyllis smiles over at me. “Your brother helps out with little odds and ends when she needs it. You may have heard him mention it.”
I have not heard him mention it. I know he does handyman work around the island during his time off from the watersports shack.
Phyllis’ home is light and airy. The white beadboard walls are filled with watercolor paintings of the shoreline and some fiber art weavings. A decorative glass cylinder sits on the coffee table, filled with shells. An artful piece of driftwood the size of my forearm is nestled against it. Everything feels welcoming and sings of the love of the beach and the ocean.
We settle in with drinks and some finger foods Phyllis sets on the coffee table. She entertains me with stories Summer prompts her to share about her years in the film industry. Before I know it, we’ve spent nearly two hours with Phyllis. I’ve laughed and smiled and settled in for probably the first time since my feet hit the sand of the Alicante beach over a week ago.
“We’d better get going,” Summer says, standing from the couch and stepping toward Phyllis for a hug. “I’ve got to run through some scripts.”
“Anything interesting?” Phyllis asks.
“Maybe. I’m not supposed to discuss it. You know that.”
“And I’m not supposed to eat too much butter. Life is more fun when we skip a few of the supposed-tos.” Phyllis winks.
I smile. That was definitely my philosophy before my accident. Bodhi used to accuse me of being the freest spirit he ever met. His eyes always lit up with admiration when he said it, like he cherished my carefree, spur-of-the-moment way of living—he cherished me. I wasn’t necessarily a rebel, but I definitely twirled to my own inner ukulele.
“I’ll tell you what,” Summer smiles at Phyllis. “I’ll bring the scripts by this week if you’ll make lemon bars.”
“Oh, that’s an easy yes. You really should come up with something more challenging.”
“Lemon bars. That’s what I want. I’d choose them for my wedding cake if I could.”
“Ah. The wedding. We have so much catching up to do. You’ll definitely have to come back this week. And Kah-la … Oh dear. How do you say it again? It’s so lovely.”
“Kah-lah-ee-nay.” I enunciate each syllable.
“Right. Well, you need to come back too. Anytime. Don’t wait for Summer to bring you, either. Just come.”
“Okay. I will.”
