We hiked for a few hours along the spectacular trail and told each other our stories, or some sanitized version. We came upon a waterfall with a group of kids skinny-dipping. We smiled at each other, stripped down and jumped in. They were on Christmas break from Arizona State. They’d tried Tom’s beer. And, big shock, they even knew Layla’s Loft. The young women had more sympathy for Vampire Chick than Layla. I didn’t ruin the ending for them. We left them and hiked to a bluff overlooking the coastline to eat lunch.
“This is so peaceful,” I said.
“Between helicopters. My wife and I used to hike this trail every year. I still do.”
He talked about his wife. They’d built the business together. They’d planned to have children, but she died of breast cancer before they had a chance. It had looked like it was in remission but it came back and she’d died in a matter of months. He’d dated a few people, but so far nothing had clicked. He said he wasn’t on hiatus, but he wasn’t in any hurry either.
“Jon said she was a rocket,” I said.
He laughed. “That’s a perfect description. I always thought they’d be a good match if anything happened to me.”
“You thought about that? That’s so generous.”
“Didn’t you ever think about what would happen to your husband if you died?”
“Never. I wouldn’t wish my ex-husband on my worst enemy.”
“That’s too bad.”
“What’s Jon’s story?”
Jon had been divorced as long as they’d known him, he guessed maybe fifteen years. He’d raised his daughter Chana. Mike had never met his ex-wife but it didn’t seem like there was any animosity there. She remarried and lived on the big island. He got the impression her new husband was uptight with Chana.
We finished lunch and made our way back down the trail. He was heading back to Portland in a few days. We decided to try kayaking the next morning, see the coastline from a different angle. He invited me to visit Portland when I got back from India, experience brewing first hand. He said I could try my hand at making up my own recipe, design a label and everything.
EIGHT
When I got back to the cottage, there was a message on my cell from Jon asking me to call.
“Hi,” I said. “How’d you get this number?”
“My assistant tracked it down.”
“How’d she do that?”
“I don’t know. It’s a small island. Good hike?”
“It was great. I’d never been out there. It’s spectacular. We went skinny dipping at a waterfall. We’re going to take kayaks up tomorrow.”
“He still there?”
“No. You need his number?“
“I have it. I’m going to dinner at a friend’s restaurant tonight and I thought you might enjoy it if you don’t have plans.”
“I don’t have plans. Is it another party?”
“No, just us. He wants to try out some new dishes.”
“Sounds fun. What’s the dress?”
“It’s Victor’s. There are white tablecloths, but that’s about it. What you wore the other night will work. I’ll get you at 7:00.”
He picked me up wearing a really silly shirt covered with grinning moons dancing around in leis and flip-flops.
“That looks like something my father would wear. Drove my mother crazy.”
He looked at the shirt and smiled. “It was clean. Chana gave it to me for Christmas.”
Victor’s is only about four doors down from Jon’s restaurant, but it could be in Paris. Jon’s exotic girlfriend Kaia was the hostess; they hugged in greeting.
“He can’t wait to feed you,” she said.
She led us to a small table tucked in an alcove overlooking the water. Chef Victor came out to greet us; he kissed my hand, which was very courtly for a big Samoan in a toque. Kaia came over and slung an arm over Victor’s shoulder.
“So you ready?” she asked.
“Yep,” said Jon.
They went back to work.
“Are Victor and Kaia related?”
“They’re married with five kids. I’m pretty sure that’s related.”
“I thought she was one of your girlfriends.”
“And that I invited you to dinner here? Sounds like someone hasn’t been very nice to you.”
“I guess. What’s their last name?”
“Last names are a moving target.”
“Mine’s Spring.”
“Mine’s Moon.”
“I deserved that. What is it really?”
“Moon.”
I was looking at him and the shirt, thinking about the name. He looked up. There was that mirror again.
“You’ve never met a Moon?”
I got a pingy rush and started laughing. He smiled.
“I bet you get some serious mileage out of that line. But no, I’ve never met a Moon. It’s nice. It suits you.”
“Spring suits you. I’m pretty sure I’ve never used that line before.”
Kaia brought us chilled Lillets with the barest wisp of orange peel. It boded well for a meal free of pineapple in undercooked cornstarch.
“Mike said you raised your daughter. That must have been difficult.”
“It was fine.”
“All the single mothers I know say it’s like having leprosy when it comes to men.”
“I know, a lot of them work for me. Kids are like bait for men. Everyone wants to rescue us.”
“Is that what made it easy?”
“I wouldn’t call it easy. But making my own schedule and having enough money made it doable, the bait part just made it strange.”
“Strange?”
“Women auditioning to be mom, talking to her in squeaky voices. She has a mother.”
“You’re immune to feminine wiles?”
“Wiles are a lot of work, especially when it came to her.”
“No wonder we get along. My aunt says I’m wileless.”
“Being subjected to wiles, as you put it, is about as interesting to me as watching boys surf is to you.”
“That can’t be true for most men. They seem to love wiles.”
“Or they’re willing to wade through the bullshit. I just try to get through dessert so I can escape. I try to not be too rude.”
“Dessert? Or dessert dessert?”
“Dessert.”
“I’m surprised.”
“Shocking I know,” he smiled.
“Well it’s totally different for single mothers. Men stay for dessert dessert, but can’t wait to get out the door before the kid wakes up.”
“We’re not big on raising someone else’s kids.”
“Have you dated a woman with kids?”
“Sure.”
“Were the kids a problem? My aunt says my mother never remarried because she was stuck raising me.”
“I doubt it was you. I got pretty involved with the kids. Chana liked the situation. It needed to go to the next level but I realized I was more involved with the kids than I was with their mother. It wasn’t a good scenario.”
There was hope for Karin. Maybe she wouldn’t have to raise the kids alone.
“My mother has a man now. He stayed through dessert, then breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
“She doesn’t have kids to raise.”
“That’s debatable. Mike said he always thought you and the rocket would make a good couple if anything happened to him.”
“Mike’s a good guy. Anything there?”
“It’s comfortable, he’s easy. I’m going to visit him in Portland when I get back from India. It feels sort of neutral, a good start for now. We’re leaving early tomorrow so I have to skip paddling.”
“Never neutral. You probably remind him of his wife.”
“I’ve hardly been a rocket. We’ve just been having fun. We just roll along. No pressure.”
“I don’t think you understand about rockets.”
“That’s no surprise. Did you think about that? Who your wife could m
arry?”
“She figured it out on her own.”
“I always thought my husband would go back to his old girlfriend; he never really gave her up,” I said. “But he didn’t. That wasn’t the point…”
I looked out the window remembering just how miserable it had been. My husband had held out his old girlfriend as an example of everything I wasn’t; then acted like I’d broken his one true love heart when it was over. I was embarrassed that I’d said it. I needed to learn to stop talking. Jon was looking at me.
“You want to try this?” he pointed to his plate.
“Thanks.”
We traded plates and talked about food and paddling. By the time the spectacular meal was over Victor had been out three times to quiz us about the various dishes. We stayed so late we were the only people left. Victor came out sans toque and had espresso with us while we passed three different desserts to taste. Kaia was busy closing out the bank and releasing the staff.
I put my fork down and smiled at Victor, “That was the best meal I’ve ever eaten. You’re a master.”
We said goodnight.
It was a shock to be jettisoned into reality after such a lush trip in food land.
“Do you mind if we stop in at my shop?” Jon asked.
“Not at all. Maybe we can catch the walk-in warm up act.”
“I hope not. I walked in on the cocktail waitresses the other night. They were dancing on the bar, singing and shooting each other full of lemon vodka and Reddi-wip. Luckily we were closed. When did girls start climbing all over each other?”
“Shooting each other full of Reddi-wip?” I have a vivid imagination. Women climbing all over each other and shooting Reddi-wip was a head full.
“Into their mouths. It was a rough night. They were just blowing off steam.”
“Wow, you really got me going! I know what you mean though; the young girls are all over each other. I don’t know what it’s all about. Is it sexy?”
“It’s disturbing. Chana’s Facebook page is full of it. I’ve known most of the girls since they were little. They’re all pouting and sticking out their asses. It must be like live porn for the young guys.”
“You look at her Facebook page?”
“She set up a page for me, then friended me. I’m trying to keep ahead of things. So far all she has posted are cartwheels and good waves, petitions to save the whales, that kind of thing. I don’t like the cartwheels. You on Facebook?”
“I was for a while,” I said. “It got to be a time suck addiction; a parallel universe. I went cold turkey. I got the shakes and everything. I kept reaching for the app. You’ll see if you ever try to give it up. How many friends do you have?”
“One. I don’t think I’ll bother trying to give it up.”
His restaurant was quiet but the bar area was slamming with a bachelor party. He parked me at the end of the bar, while he went in back to talk to the staff, and undoubtedly take a peek at the walk-in. One of the cocktail waitresses was working the rowdy bunch of men; I heard her say, “What the hell are you doing?” Uh oh.
Jon must have a third ear for that kind of thing; he came out of the back in two seconds flat and went over to the group. I watched as he talked to the cocktail waitress who was wiping her shoulder with a napkin, then to a guy who was sitting back down. I heard the guy say something about Fifty Shades of Grey. Oh boy, this could get good. He didn’t look like someone who read chick porn, but men are full of surprises. They stood around for a while. The cocktail waitress and the Shades of Grey guy seemed to be in some kind of negotiation. The other guys were egging it on; Jon just listened. Grey pulled out his wallet and handed her some money and they all went back to business as usual. Jon looked at the bartender, a signal passed between them.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you in the car. Let’s get out of here before something else happens.”
He took my elbow and rushed us out the door and into the car to make our getaway.
“So?” I asked.
“The guy slathered her shoulder with a lime slice, sprinkled on salt, and started licking it off before she knew what hit her. He was drinking shots.”
“Wow. That happen often?”
“It’s a new one. Cost him forty dollars.”
“Forty dollars?”
He looked over at me, “It was only her shoulder.”
“I would have taken twenty.”
“Not with me standing there you wouldn’t.”
“How do you handle this with your daughter?”
“She’s been in the culture all her life. She knows what’s what. We’ve taken care of her.”
“Nobody licking salt off her?”
“Would your father let men lick salt off you?”
I started laughing.
“That’s funny?” he asked.
“Listen to us,” I said. “Salt licking men, like it’s a big population.”
He smiled and shook his head.
“Oh god you make me laugh,” I said. “I have no idea what my father would or wouldn’t let happen. I was on my own with that one. I’m pretty sure there’s been some licking, salt and otherwise, he wouldn’t approve of. But I don’t know, I just found out he had an affair.”
He asked me where my father was. I told him the story.
“That must have been hard,” he said. “But don’t confuse his affair with taking care of you.”
“You know about that?”
“I know a lot about that.”
We were back in front of my place.
“I had so much fun, thanks for inviting me,” I said.
“You came to mind.”
“Luna’s. Moon in Latin.”
“Yep.”
“So passion fruit moon beer?”
“I think we’ll stick with Liliko’i Luna. ”
“I like it as long as they don’t stick Lager on the end. Night, luna.”
I leaned over and licked his ear. Really, Hannah. Now what?
He smiled sideways at me. “Is that where the cat thing comes from?”
“I have no idea where that came from! Forget I did that. Too much sugar or something.”
“Be hard to forget.”
“Well do. It was only your ear, Jon. It must have been the whole licking conversation. I’m so sorry. Erase, rewind, whatever!”
I fled the car and slammed the door. He called good night. Crap! I flapped a hand at him without looking back. He waited until I was in the house before driving next door.
NINE
I was happy to be going kayaking. I didn’t want to face Jon after the licking incident. I so hoped he hadn’t mentioned it to Mike.
Mike and I had a great time and then stopped for a late lunch before he left to pack. He didn’t mention licking. He gave me a very nice good-bye kiss. He was looking forward to my visit to Portland. He was an unselfconscious and happy man who looked great without his clothes on, but I didn’t have an urge to lick him.
I spent the rest of the afternoon reading. No Jon sighting. I figured he was off with some sane woman, his ears safe. I hoped it was a one-off and that I wouldn’t have to add ear licking to strange small talk and singing the wrong lyrics.
I talked to Karin. Her parents had gone home and she sounded stressed now that they were seeing a marriage counselor and they weren’t forced to be cheerful in the face of her potentially gloating parents. She was in a down, shit-throwing phase of the cycle. Oscar was starting to feel like maybe things should start to lighten up a little. He was sorry, he loved her, and he wasn’t going anywhere.
The school had started calling; Callie was acting out and getting bossy, she’d started wearing black. Richard was going the opposite direction and getting more serious. Karin and Oscar might be battling for the power, but they were able to bury the hatchet when it came to helping their children. She wanted news from cat-land.
“You licked his ear?” she said. “The Napali guy?”
“No, the fl
ippin’ boy next door,” I said. “Totally bizarre.”
“It sounds like you need to go a few rounds with the pink bunny,” she said. “Take the edge off.”
“Oh stop! The guy has more women than China has pigs.”
“People.”
“People?”
“Than China has people.”
“Whatever.”
“I meant your edge, not his.”
“So embarrassing. Why would I do that?”
“Oh I don’t know, but I’m guessing he could stand in for the bunny.”
“I’m on hiatus!”
“Self imposed. I got the picture from dinner the other night; you two look like you’re related. His hair even sticks up a little. He’s blonde; you’ve always gone for the Steves—tall, dark and handsome.”
“He’s handsome, and he’s the same height as my father. Stroud has blue eyes. Anyway, I haven’t gone for him.”
“Yeah right. He’s your father’s height, and you’re licking him like a scoop of blue-eyed pineapple ice cream. Haven’t even thought about it.”
“Glad I could cheer you up. I’m hanging up now, bye.”
She was laughing when I hung up.
Next I called Anna for an update. We didn’t laugh. Leaving Binky in the car overnight on Christmas Eve had been a tipping point for the kids. Sam and Sam looked numb. Amber was throwing frantic tantrums and leveling every single thing in the house. Ted was floating. I’d only been gone a little more than a week. If I were there I could take the kids out. Now that Mom wasn’t drinking, we had a chance at an intervention. Anna would talk to Eric and Arthur about it. Ted would be the sticking point.
Jon was out the next morning with his daughter’s board for me. He wanted to cover some miles so I could get a sense of the possibilities. He took the boards out past the breakers and I managed to stand up in less than half an hour. Even in that shallow water, it was dreamy to glide over the bottom and check in with everybody. I told him about the sugar cube and my theory that millions were doing the conga on every grain of sand. He said I was really into parallel universes. He was right. Why else would I get involved with men with two names and work in the film business? All we did was dream up parallel universes. My mind started to work on that idea; something was whispering in the background as we slid across the water, but nothing took form in my mind.
Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 01 - Wild Nights Page 15