Thankfully, Molli only lives a few minutes away so I should still be able to make it to the airport on-time. Molli’s house is in the center of a development full of fifties-styled houses. She likes “the old feel” she’s told me, but for a woman in her twenties, I’m not sure I’d agree with her choice of style. Plus, she pays out of the ass to live there, and it’s not even near the damn shore. Whatever floats her boat, though. It’s not my money.
I pull into the driveway, finding Molli and Aya waiting with smiles, waving me toward them. I drop the gear into park and hop out to meet them.
Balloons fly up behind the two of them as they both shout, “Congratulations!”
“You remembered,” I joke with them. “You guyssss.”
“Denver, don’t be so coy,” Molli says. “This is a big deal and a big day for you. I wish you’d stick around long enough so we could celebrate tonight.” I can’t stick around. I have to get away from this island.
“I know, I know. I move fast, but I’m restarting my life, and I don’t want to be sitting in purgatory while I do that.”
“Purgatory?” she questions with an arched brow. “This is hardly purgatory, Denver. Please.”
“It’s hot as hell, ain’t it?” I quip.
“Watch your mouth, and it’s a beautiful sunny day. Plus, Maui isn’t any cooler, so you shouldn’t be using that as an excuse.”
“I wasn’t. I was stating the obvious,” I tell her.
“You’re a pain in the ass,” she replies.
“Maybe, but I’m doing what I have to.”
“I know you are, and as sad as I am that you’re leaving, I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you, Molli. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me these past years. I can’t ever think of a way to repay you.”
“You did pay me, Denver. Plus, I would have been happy to help you for free,” she says. “You know that.”
I’m not great at goodbyes. I usually avoid them, but I couldn’t do that this time. I owe Molli a proper goodbye.
“All right, well, it’s time, girl. It’s time to spread my wings and fly,” I tell her.
“I guess so,” she says, tucking her hair behind her shoulders. Her hands flatten against her chest, she bites down on her lip, and tears forms in her eyes. “I’m going to miss this little girl. I really am.” I know this sucks for her. She’s Aya’s aunt, and the only relationship Aya has with that side of her family, but Molli knew this was the plan and we both have lives to carry on. We promised holidays and other visits, so we’ll make sure we don’t lose touch. “We’ll have to visit soon.”
“It’s just a quick hop over to the next island. You guys are welcome anytime. Open invitation, always.”
“I’ll have to see about persuading Lan to take some time off,” Molli says, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, screw that. Lan has saved up paid time off. Tell him to get to it.”
“I will,” she says. “I know your situation sucks, but I’m still glad we’re family, even if it’s in a screwed-up way.”
“We’re not the screw-ups, so it’s okay,” I tell her with a chuckle. “Thank you again, Molli.” I reach over and give her a quick hug, feeling a tug in my chest, but everything today is making my chest ache. It’s the fresh start we need, and I know it’s best for us.
“Have a safe flight, and take care of my favorite niece, okay?”
I grab Aya by the waist and flip her over my shoulder, hearing her ferocious giggles echo off the side of my truck. “What were you doing over there in the dirt, you crazy girl?” My girl. She likes to play in the dirt, catch bugs, rodents, and every other thing that makes most little girls scream. She also loves purple, dresses, and glitter. I don't know how she pulls it off, but she's kind of perfect.
“I was trying to catch a gecko, Dad, but you made it run away. As always.”
“What did I tell you about chasing geckos?” I ask her as I place her into her booster seat on the back bench of my truck.
“That it won’t save me any money, it’ll probably have a fake accent, and won’t ever know when to shut up,” she repeats my words, groaning with annoyance.
“That’s right. So, let’s not go picking up any more geckos, you got me?”
“Whatever,” she sighs.
As I slide into the driver’s seat, I peer back into my rear-view mirror, catching the look on Aya’s face. “You okay, baby girl?” I know she’s not okay. I can see it in her big, blue, dime-sized eyes—the eyes that will someday force me to have a shotgun waiting behind my front door. Those eyes, together with her natural Hawaiian tan and light brown hair mixed with natural blonde highlights, make for a gorgeous little girl who I intend to keep in a bubble for the rest of her life.
“I’m going to miss it here,” she says. “I hate moving around.”
“I know, baby. Me too. You know what, though? We have better things to see and do over in Maui, okay?”
“I know,” she says. I watch her waving goodbye to Molli, and the tears they’re both shedding make me I feel like a giant asshole. I didn’t want anything in my life to affect Aya more than it already has, and this is supposed to be my way of finally ensuring that. Staying here isn’t an option. I need a fresh start, and this island isn’t big enough for that. “Dad?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I wish aunt Molli could come with us.”
I look back at Aya again. “I know, but aunt Molli has her own life now. Plus, she wouldn’t have a lot of time for us once the baby is born and she marries Lan, right?”
“I suppose,” she says.
“Look, I know you miss your mom, but things are going to be okay with just the two of us. I promise you.” It’s been a couple of years since Isla left, but I know it still crosses Aya’s mind constantly.
“I don’t miss, Mom,” she corrects me. “She left us. We didn’t leave her.”
Words from a seven-year-old have never sounded harsher. Isla had it coming. I should have seen it all coming, but it is what it is, and I have Aya—my life's lesson I wouldn’t give up for the world. “Okay. Well, I’m not going anywhere. It’s you and me, kid.”
“Except when you work,” she grumbles.
“I do have to make a living for us, baby girl. Otherwise, I can’t take care of you.”
“Yeah, yeah. What are you going to be doing for work?” Aya asks.
“Noa, my friend who found us a place to live, said he has a job opportunity waiting for me, but he didn’t say much else. I guess we’ll see when we get there.”
“Okay, but I get to pick out my new babysitter. Right?”
“Deal,” I tell her. Hopefully, it’s that easy. I’ve never had to struggle to find help watching Aya. Between Molli and some of the Marines’ wives, I always had my bases covered.
“So,” Aya continues. “The babysitter has to be pretty, smart, and funny. Oh, and she has to be a good cook, and like to clean.”
I shake my head. “Are you my daughter or a matchmaker?” I joke.
“A what maker?” She questions.
“Never mind, you goof. If you can find a babysitter like that, then you’re in charge of all things babysitter related. Sound good?”
“Sure does,” Aya agrees.
Chapter Two
Kai
“It’s the first day of summer vacation for most of the states. I think I might like to call out today. What do you think, Kai?”
Lea spoke my thoughts out loud before I had my eyes completely open. Work has been slow these last few weeks, but it was the calm before the storm of tourists arrives. “Why are you in my room? Can’t you tell I’m still asleep?” I whine.
“That’s why I’m in here. You’re still asleep, and we to go soon. Get up. Get up. Get up!” Lea tears my white down comforter off my body, dragging the sheets along with it. I’m left in my shorts and t-shirt, freezing against the overly air-conditioned air. “Yeah, that’s right. You screwed with the thermostat last night. Now you can pay for it, bitch.”
“I do pay for it, dumbass,” I tell her, rolling out of bed.
“Whatever. I’ll be able to start pitching in soon. I just need one more paycheck,” she says.
“Lea, you said that two weeks ago, and two weeks before that, and a month before that. You’ve been working with me for almost two months now. Where is all your money going?”
She shrugs. “I dunno. Somewhere.”
I scratch at my eyebrow, ignoring the dummy routine Lea enjoys playing. “You know, considering you’re about to spend the rest of your life with Noa, you should consider trying the whole responsibility thing.” The only part of that she just heard was the word “Noa.” I can see it on her face as she examines her engagement ring, waving her hand around to make the diamond shimmer against the sunlight.
“Eh, Noa is responsible enough for the both of us,” she argues.
“Of course, he is,” I reply with a look that reminds her how I feel about Noa’s responsible career choice.
“He’s a restaurant owner. There’s nothing irresponsible about that,” she continues.
I clear my throat and tear my covers out of her hands. “It’s not the restaurant part that is subpar in the responsibility realm. It’s the type of restaurant that bothers me. It’s disgusting and piggish.”
“He makes six figures a year, Kai. Let it go.”
I huff. “Whatever.”
“Plus, he’s the man behind the scenes—not the one in the scene.”
“That’s the only reason I’m just gently reminding you about my disapproval. He’s a great guy, okay? I just—he should do something else with his time.”
“What, like strut around a pool, dealing with sweaty tourists all day like we do?”
“I don’t strut,” I tell her. “Do you?”
“How do you think I make my tips?” she says, laughing.
“I didn’t think you made tips. Remember, you said you have no money to pay for rent or utilities?”
“Right, well, try strutting a little next time you’re about to jump into the pool after someone. You’re prettier than I am, so I’m sure it’ll work out for you.” She sticks her tongue out at me like the little girl she still acts like and leaves my bedroom.
I climb out of bed and pull out a folded pile of clothes from my dresser. I have five sets of my uniforms, and when the pile gets slim, I know it’s getting close to the end of a work week, but today, the pile is full. A pile of Mondays, that’s what it is.
I pull on my red, guard shorts and throw my vibrantly colored, floral tank top over my head. Although the shirt just says, “Lifeguard,” it screams “Aloha, tourists!”
With a quick yank, I pull the elastic from my hair, feeling my long waves fall heavily against the back of my shirt. I shower at night so I can sleep a little later, even though Lea still wakes me up earlier than necessary. I braid my hair and toss it over the back of my shoulder. Done. Yet, I’m willing to bet Lea is on step-two of her un-meltable makeup configuration.
“This is why you don’t need to wake me up in the mornings,” I tell her as I pass by her room, confirming my assumption. “You’re sweating in the sun all day. Give it up with the gobs of makeup.”
“I’m sweating all day,” she repeats. “That’s why I need makeup.”
“Okay, well, I’ll be in the car waiting ... ” I say, but mutter under my breath, “for the next fifteen minutes until we’re on the cusp of being late.”
It’s not fair that I was forced to grow up before Lea was, but life happens and all the crap that goes along with it. It’s why I try to be responsible and make sure she’s heading down the right path in life. That’s all I’ve been doing for the last ten years since Mom and Dad passed. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but I was eighteen, and she was twelve. She was already a rough teenager, just a year into those horrific tween years, but she knew we were on thin ice with the state. We fought tooth and nail to make sure I gained custody of her. I wasn’t old enough to be raising a teenager, but there was nothing in this world that was going to take Lea away from me, until now—until Noa. I inhale, trying to think peaceful thoughts, still attempting to digest the idea of Lea being someone’s wife. I like Noa. He’s a great guy. He’s smart, spent four years in the Marines, has nice parents, and he adores Lea, but he works non-stop, running a restaurant, and I don’t know if that kind of life and the resulting lack of “together time” will bode well for someone like Lea who needs constant attention.
“Here, ready, let’s hit the road, lady,” Lea sings as she hops into the passenger seat.
“How much coffee have you had this morning?” I ask her.
“A pot,” she says, whipping her head around and smiling at me like the damn Joker.
“Dear God, get me through today,” I mumble. “Why did I think it was a good idea for you to work with me?”
“Because I was fired from the hair salon. That’s why,” she reminds me.
Right. She was giving out free haircuts to Noa for four months because evidently, Noa needs haircuts once a week. Kenny Chesney blares through Lea’s phone just as I switch the gear into drive. “Who is calling this early?” I ask her. Why am I even asking?
She doesn’t answer me as she picks up the phone. “Hi, honey!” Noa. Of course. The nights she actually sleeps in her own bed, Noa calls first thing in the morning to remind her that he loves her, just so she knows this very important piece of information before she starts her shift at the pool bar, which he frequents almost daily. “Of course, no problem.” What is she agreeing to now? “Yeah, I know they’re almost sold out tonight, but I’ll be able to snag a free one.” She’s friends with the front desk manager. As a matter of fact, she’s friends with everyone. Half of the hotel staff calls me “Hey,” but that’s cool. I’m not the socialite like Lea. “I love you more.” A giggle ensues. “No, I—I can’t do this right now, Kai is next to me.” She cups her hand around the phone as if I can’t hear what she’s saying. “You know I do.” Giggle number two. “Okay, okay, yes. I do! Bye, babe.”
I shake my head. “You’re the most annoying sister in the entire world.”
“No, you are,” she says, poking my arm. “Noa’s friend is moving into town, and his house was supposed to be ready today, but I guess they need another few days, so he asked if there are any free rooms at the hotel.”
“There’s no way. I’m pretty sure I heard they were planning to walk people today with how booked up they are.”
“Eh, I’ll wink and nudge. George loves me. He’ll help me out. Plus, the guy is a Marine, and that’s all they’ll need to hear.”
“You ask for a lot of favors for someone who’s only been working at the hotel for such a short time,” I remind her.
“It makes up for you never asking for favors, so it kind of just works itself out, you know?”
“That’s exactly how it works,” I lament.
We pull into the overfilled lot and find one tiny spot at the very end of the last row. It’s going to be a madhouse here today. “Put on your happy face. It’s time to get busy,” she squeals.
Happy face. Must put on a happy face. I love to watch people break every pool rule listed on the huge sign, posted strategically right beside my chair, every single day. It’s fun, fun, fun. Yay.
I shake off my grumpy exhaustion and force a smile, just a little one though. “Okay, let’s get the crazy under control.”
After working at the Wailea Royal for the last four years, my facial expressions change on their own accord when I walk in through the lobby. From the beaming smile, with my shoulders thrown back to the chipper “hello” I offer all the staff members I’m passing, I sometimes wonder who I’ve become. An actress, I suppose.
Lea isn’t acting, and she makes that clear as she feels the need to greet everyone with double cheek kisses and hugs. She has quickly become the sweetheart of the Wailea Royal. It irritates me a little, but it’s not like I can expect to earn that imaginary title with a simple smile and “hello.�
�
I continue walking through the wide lobby, past the lounge, and out through the open lanai. The pool attendants are setting up the lounge chairs and drying off the morning dew, and the bartenders are making a ruckus with the glasses behind the bar. Despite my fear of being late for work, I’m normally the first lifeguard here, which is fine since by the time I get settled in my chair, I’m too far away from the other lifeguards to fall into any unnecessary small talk. I know I sound miserable, but I’m not. I just have these daily “woe is me” waves of misery when I feel reminded about missing out on my twenties, or when I see a bunch of vacationers my age enjoying their freedom, rather than being tied down with an inflexible work schedule. I allow myself to feel like crap for two minutes each morning before I force myself to move forward. Otherwise, my emotional state would eat me alive.
“I’ll see ya later, sis,” Lea says, walking by me and heading toward Cabana Hut—the pool restaurant.
“Have a good day,” I sing with a half-smile and a lazy wave.
“Cheer up, grumpy,” she sings back.
I slump down into my guard chair and peel my shirt off leaving my shorts in place. I typically prepare myself for a dive into the water once children start arriving.
“Hey grump,” Talon says, walking past my chair, repeating Lea as if it were planned.
“Really?” I reply. “Of all people, you’re going to jump on the grump bandwagon?”
Talon is another guard, a perfect specimen of another guard. He’s like a guy from Baywatch. His pecs are bigger than my boobs, and they bounce like Pam Anderson’s. It’s cute, and a little fun to watch. He’s half Hawaiian, half Californian, and somehow looks that way, as stereotypical as it sounds. His lighter eyes and mocha-colored hair are stunning. He’s pretty, and he knows it. I don’t think he’s actually lifeguard certified. I think the hotel managers hired him to look the part here while the rest of us, who are certified, do the heavy lifting. All he appears to do is apply sunscreen to his biceps once an hour. Then he goes for a quick swim so he can do a quick dolphin pose before breaching the water with his eyes closed, his hair flying back into a wet mess, and then ... just because there are water droplets dripping down his forehead, he has to run his hands over his face and through his hair before climbing back out of the pool. I’m pretty sure he offers every woman watching a quick Zac Efron wink while he’s doing so. Living in the land of the beautiful has helped me learn to see through the outer layer of bronzed skin, seeking a soul that isn’t tainted with narcissistic thoughts. “Mahalo, beautiful. So, ah, a few of us are going out tonight. What do you say?” Talon asks me. “Your sister told me to convince you.”
Man Buns Page 2
