Almost Paradise

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Almost Paradise Page 2

by Chris Keniston


  “Did you make him clean his room?”

  “Worse. I refuse to accept ketchup on french fries as a suitable substitute for green vegetables.”

  “Ouch. Tough mom.”

  “Yup, that’s me. Puts…oh, hell. Look at the time. I’m supposed to pick JJ up from day camp in half an hour, and Susie is at the neighbor’s still. I’d better go. Sorry. Next time we’ll talk longer. And don’t worry about the toilet. I’m great with a pair of pliers.”

  “And duct tape. Give the kids a kiss from Uncle Billy.”

  “Will do. Take care of yourself.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The line went silent and Billy reminded himself that even if Joe were still around, Joe would most likely be deployed and Claire would still be dealing with the terrible threes and leaky plumbing on her own. Of course the lame attempt at justification didn’t work any better today than it had time and time before. Facts were facts. Joe was neither deployed nor home enjoying life. Joe was dead. Claire was left a widow alone to raise two fatherless children. A broken family. And Billy was still alive. In Paradise. Almost Paradise.

  Chapter Two

  “Are you coming tonight?”

  Clearing away the numbers swirling in his head, Billy looked up from his desk. “Tonight?

  “Angela’s birthday? Lexie enunciated clearly and slowly as if he were both deaf and stupid. “The party is tonight at Nick and Kara’s.”

  Right. Now he remembered. For weeks, since it was determined Angela wasn’t suffering from a burst appendix or some other life-threatening disease, the only thing any of the women could talk about was the big party. Even his mom had gotten in on the planning.

  Not him. He didn’t do parties. Not anymore. Not since…” I’ve got a lot of work to take care of if we want to get this new program up and running on schedule.”

  “Seriously?” She plopped her hands on her hips. “You’re going to use that ridiculous excuse? The business will not collapse if you get out and socialize.”

  “It’s not an excuse. The dive pool has passed all inspections. The only thing standing in the way of our first junior camp is all of this.” He waved his arms over the mound of advertising flyers and promotional pamphlets he’d yet to sort and proof.

  “Look.” Lexie slid into the seat in front of his desk. “You know how embarrassed Angela was to be taken away from here in an ambulance. Or have you not noticed she hasn’t been by for even a five-minute aloha?”

  He had noticed. Angela had become a regular fixture around the place over the last couple of years. A very nice fixture. At first she’d pop by to bring Lexie a cup of coffee, join her for lunch, or meet for happy hour. A few minutes here or there. By the time she began coming by to tag along on one of the boats if Lexie was leading a night dive—and Nick was captain—it had become obvious she’d developed a crush on Nick that no one except Nick could miss.

  Now, even though she no longer seemed to have any romantic interest in Nick, Angela still popped in regularly to visit Lexie. And Billy always knew when Angela was around, but he rarely surfaced to exchange more than the sporadic casual hello. Once upon a time, he might have tried to get friendlier with the pretty brunette. Once upon a time. “And your point?”

  “She feels awful. Not only did she pass out, but she landed on you—”

  “She didn’t land on anyone. I caught her.”

  “That doesn’t help. Either way, you had to carry her to the sofa, and if that wasn’t bad enough, everyone here is now privy to her personal health problems. She’s too embarrassed to show her face.”

  “That’s absurd.” What was the big deal? Everyone here was privy to his personal health problems. So the lady has severe cramps with her period. He has one leg. You couldn’t miss the prosthesis. At least not now that he’d stopped wearing long pants to hide it. “I repeat, your point is?”

  “Spending a little casual time with her away from the shop would go a long way to making her feel more comfortable and less awkward around here.” Lexie waited a beat. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Would you just come and make nice so we can get back to normal? Please.”

  Few men could resist Lexie when she batted her long thick lashes, but even he had a soft spot for her damsel-in-distress smile. Sweeter than Maui sugar cane. “Sure. Count on me.”

  She shot him one of those intoxicating smiles that made her eyes sparkle and left most men off-kilter like drunken fools. “Always do.”

  Always do. Pain in the foot he no longer had pricked at him once again. “Yeah, sure, always count on good ol’ Billy.” Except when it really matters.

  * * *

  Some birthday present. More like a sick cosmic joke. Angela sat frozen behind the wheel of her car, staring at the piece of paper she’d carried with her all day long. From time to time throughout her day she’d paused to pull it out of her bag and read it, each time finding herself a little surprised none of the words had changed.

  Folding it in half and then in half again, she tucked the slip of paper into the zippered section of her handbag. She had a party to go to. Lexie and Kara had planned this celebration for her ages ago, and she didn’t have the heart to disappoint them.

  Turning off the ignition, she leaned back against the headrest. Twenty-nine felt so old. So close to thirty. The age at which she’d expected to be married with at least one baby and maybe one more on the way. She’d always been a throwback to a postwar mentality. That would be World War II, not the Persian Gulf. From the time she could carry a doll, all she ever wanted was to be a mother. When she graduated high school without a steady boyfriend in sight, she went on to college. Four years and two sort-of serious relationships later, she graduated with a degree in economics and no career ambitions of any kind. Real estate was just a means to support herself until she found a husband to take on the job of breadwinner so she could move on to domestic engineering.

  Three years later at twenty-five, and with no sign of future husband material, she told herself plenty of people her age were just starting careers and not giving marriage and babies a care. Thirty-five was the new twenty-five. That gave her ten more years before she really had to worry about her biological clock running out.

  At twenty-six and twenty-seven she’d clung to the hope this would be the year Mister Right would come along. And then one day two years ago, while she waited for Lexie to join her for lunch, Nicholas Harper waltzed into the dive shop, muscles flexing, smile beaming. All practical thought shut down, and her mating instincts screamed superior gene pool.

  Blinded by charm, she hadn’t cared the man was a serial flirt. If the body wore a skirt or a bikini and had all the right parts, he was there to pay attention. Tourists from Anchorage to Zimbabwe got hugs, shoulder rubs, air kisses, and pretty words. Some who came looking for vacation fun got more personalized attention. But not ordinary her.

  Sure Nick had flashed her the occasional smile, but it always felt more like that of a big brother patronizing the baby sister who insisted on tagging along, not the captivating smile that came off just a little bit predatory. Infatuated by that stellar gene pool, she’d wished fairy godmothers truly existed so that hers could wave a magic wand and have Nick notice her, fall madly in love, and give up his serial flirting ways.

  Then last summer Nick returned to Kona from a long stay in Texas with a five-year-old son and a beautiful fiancée, thoroughly dashing any schoolgirl fantasies of making babies with the former navy man.

  Now, as her twenty-ninth birthday loomed overhead like an executioner at the Tower of London, Lexie and Kara insisted all she needed to cheer her up was a birthday party. A really big birthday party.

  From the number of cars parked up and down the street, they’d pulled it off. Her gaze shifted to her handbag. A party wasn’t going to help. Not even a real fairy godmother could fix this.

  * * *

  “Looks to me like the only person on the island not here is the guest of honor.” Billy took a swig from his beer, all the while surveying the room. O
ld habits died hard.

  “Kara mentioned they told the guests an earlier arrival time. Even though it’s not a surprise party, they didn’t want the place empty when Angela got here.” Nick, unlike Billy, didn’t care who else was in the room. His scanning eyes settled on the only person that mattered to him. His new bride, Kara.

  Like radar detection equipment, Kara’s sensors must have gone off when her husband’s hungry gaze bored into her. The heat Billy’s two friends emitted from mere eye contact should have been enough for the whole place to burst into flames. “You did good.”

  “Hmm?” Nick hadn’t taken his eyes off his wife.

  “Just saying I’m glad you didn’t wind up with Gwen the cocktail waitress. Now, why don’t you go stand next to your wife? Hold her hand or something. No. Scratch the something. But all that sexual energy zinging across the room is very unnerving for those of us not getting any.”

  “I think it’s sweet.” Emily, Billy’s sister, the only one living on the Big Island, sidled up next to her brother. “Nice to know sizzling sex doesn’t stop with the wedding ring.”

  “You are not supposed to know anything about sizzling sex until the wedding ring.” Billy set his empty beer bottle on the table beside him and turned to Nick. “And you are not supposed to be putting ideas in my baby sister’s head.”

  “Baby? Bro, I’m twenty-six. You may want to take another look.”

  Nick raised his beer at his wife and switched his attention to the Everrett siblings. “Now where have I heard this before?”

  “I swear if big brother had his way I’d have been a virgin forever.”

  “So not going there.” Billy took another pull from his beer.

  Chuckling, Nick smacked Billy on the back. “You gotta let go sometime, buddy.” With a tilt of his chin, he pointed in the opposite direction. “Looks like Angela finally made it.”

  In a sleek pair of beige pants that stopped midcalf, hiding what he knew to be shapely legs, and a short sleeve blouse that didn’t dip quite low enough to show off any cleavage, the girl still managed to look damn hot. Billy resisted the urge to adjust himself. “You could learn from her.”

  “What?” Nick asked.

  “Not you.” Closing his fist, Billy waved his outward thumb at his sister. “Emily. Look at Angela. That’s the way nice girls dress.”

  Eyes circled round, Emily spread her arms like a preacher blessing the congregation and looked down at herself. “Ah, jeez. I forgot to change out of the pasties and G-string. Sorry, bro.”

  “You look lovely this evening, Em. That dress becomes you.” Nick smiled at her before casting a sideways glance at his friend.

  “It shows your knees,” Billy mumbled, still staring at Angela. At the poke to his side from Nick, he turned to his sister. She really did look pretty tonight. In a blue-and-white floral sundress, she was a knockout. And it wasn’t her fault she inherited their mother’s cleavage. Emily would have to wear a buttoned-up collar to hide it all. “You look great.”

  Leaning against him, Emily kissed his temple. “I love you, too.”

  For the next hour Billy chatted with this person or that. His mom’s best friend had kept talking at him for nearly half that time. Now that Nick had found a good woman to settle down with, Billy’s mother and every one of her friends seemed to consider that the signal to match him up with any niece, neighbor, or sales clerk they could think of. Of course the only criteria being the female needed to be within childbearing years. Quite a span from some of the suggestions thrown at him tonight. Though, he wondered how many mai tais Missy Kalani had downed to even consider adding her seventeen-year-old neighbor to the list of contenders.

  “It’s a lovely party.”

  The words carried from somewhere behind him. No need to turn. He recognized the voice. A bit strained if he didn’t miss his guess, but the person thanking Lexie and Kara profusely for all their efforts was the guest of honor herself.

  Turning to get a closer look, he decided definitely strained. The smile on her face was broad and fixed, but far from genuine. Nick called from across the room for his wife to join him, drawing Kara away, and then Lexie darted off in the opposite direction. Left standing alone, now was as good a time as any to follow through with his promise to Lexie and try to make Angela feel more at ease around him and the shop. Truth be told, he missed seeing her.

  Taking a few short steps, he reached Angela’s side. “Happy Birthday.”

  The phony smile slipped. If she’d been holding a drink, she would have dropped it. Her breath hitched, she took a half step back, and her hands lifted slightly, as though she needed to catch her balance. Or had the bejesus scared out of her. He certainly hoped it wasn’t the latter.

  “Thank you,” she answered softly. “Twenty-nine, right?”

  Angela nodded, the fake smile back.

  “It’s a lovely party. Thanks for including me.” Her brows lifted. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m glad to be on the guest list. It’s been good visiting with everyone.” Perhaps not an inebriated Missy Kalani. Maybe he should try to spend a little less time in his office. Get out more. And like a call to reveille, the ghosts from his past lined up beside him, reminding him he had no right.

  “It was nice of you to come.”

  The sound of her voice brought him back to the here and now. A hint of a blush rose to her cheeks. Something that seemed to happen often and for no apparent cause. Especially around Nick. When Kara first showed up, he actually wondered how the nice Realtor was going to handle Nick’s change of marital status. To Angela’s credit, she’d risen above typical catty jealousies and become good friends with the woman who had won Nick over.

  Angela rocked back on her heels. “I, uh, think I hear—”

  “The diving pool passed all inspections. Did Lexie tell you?” He cut her off before she could dart away.

  “Yes, yes she did.” She nodded, the stiffness in her shoulders easing. “The little she’s told me about the junior program sounds like a great opportunity for children. Lexie’s very excited.”

  “We all are. To tell the truth, I’m a little embarrassed that we didn’t think of doing this before Bradley arrived.”

  “Why is that?” Angela’s head tilted to one side and her brows dipped in curiosity. She looked…adorable.

  “It shouldn’t have taken one five-year-old little boy to wake us up to all the other children on the island who could benefit from the changes. Formal dive programs for young kids are important. We don’t have big art museums and theater programs on the island. Yes, we have some sports, but there’s no Yankee or Cowboys Stadium. What we do have is water, nature, and tourists.”

  Angela giggled. Not a laugh. Not a chuckle. An honest girlish giggle.

  Pleased she felt comfortable enough to let her guard down, he continued. “By teaching the next generation the value of preserving our beaches, the coral reefs, and so much more, we’ll guarantee the world we love will still be here for future generations. The PADI programs are more than just a stepping stone to scuba diving.”

  “PADI?”

  “Professional Association of Dive Instructors. They’ve got worldwide recognition and partnerships with well-known conservation groups like National Geographic. Everything in the program is designed to learn by having fun, whether with crafts or scuba activities.”

  “I didn’t think children Bradley’s age could scuba?”

  “Not the way you or I would.” He tried not to stumble over those words. There would be no more diving for him. Though he wouldn’t mind sharing an underwater experience with the pretty…crap. Where the hell had that come from?

  “Billy?” Angela’s tone had shifted from one of keen interest to one of mild confusion.

  Shit. “Hmm?”

  “You were saying not the way you or I would dive. But how?”

  “Right.” Get your mind out of her swimsuit. “Uh, that would be programs like SASY, Supplies Air Snorkeling for Youths. When Bradley’s a littl
e older, around eight, he can try the Bubblemaker program. We’re going to start with those two age groups at first. Keep it simple. Then the plan is to move on in the next few months and add the programs from Project AWARE for kids up to the age of fourteen. There’ll be beach cleanup and underwater photography—”

  “Wow. I had no idea how much the programs would encompass. I just thought…well, I guess I thought of it as underwater play.” She smiled again, her cheeks naturally pink.

  “No, you’re right. Underwater play is only part of the picture, though. Of course there’s also the commercial advantages. The pool has a viewing window as well, so friends and family can watch. A whole new twist to birthday pool parties.”

  “Pool parties were rare for me growing up, but the few chances I did have, I loved.”

  “Not anymore?”

  This time her smile went all the way to her eyes. “Sometimes. But bikinis tend to look better on someone else.”

  Somehow he doubted that. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but he’d leaned back against the table. His shoulders and stance relaxed. At ease. No longer surveying the territory, prepared to be bombarded by another meddling maternal figure’s attempt at matchmaking. For just a little while, he could pretend he was free to enjoy his life.

  Chapter Three

  “If it were up to me, standard pool attire would be gym shorts and a T-shirt.” Angela waved a hand in front of the dive shop owner. “Think about it. Speedos went out of fashion ages ago, and yet bikinis keep getting smaller and smaller. Why doesn’t anyone design ladies swimsuits that go all the way down to our knees like men’s swim trunks?”

  Billy’s burst of laughter filled the room. “Probably because every male under the age of one hundred would revolt.”

  Angela felt her own laughter roll through her. Until now all she’d wanted was for the party to end so she could go home and crawl under the covers. Instead it felt really good to forget her reality and just laugh. “Thanks. I needed that.”

 

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