Aloha, page 56
Why did I like that praise?
Stowing that thought away for later, I decide to change the topic and take advantage of this opening for a conversation. “Are you going to Maui for business or pleasure?”
“I think everyone goes to Maui for pleasure, whether working while there or not.”
The way his eyes twinkle when he smiles is so enchanting. I could literally watch him do that all day long.
“True,” I finally manage to say without sounding like a love-struck teenager who just ran into her newest crush. “I’ve never been, but always wanted to. It’s the only state I’ve never visited… Hawai’i, that is. I’ve been to all of the continental United States, and Alaska.”
Wow, word vomit much, Shelbi?
I want to roll my eyes at myself, but I refrain, giving him a tenuous smile.
“And you were supposed to take this trip with your ex?”
Instead of responding with words, which I seem to have no control over, I simply nod.
“Why didn’t you cancel his flight? I’m sure you could’ve gotten a refund.”
Swallowing, I avert my eyes to my lap and fidget with a loose strand on the hem of my t-shirt. “I don’t know, actually.”
“Were you hoping to reconcile?” he asks, one brow arched.
“No,” I answer quickly. “The second I caught Dalton with his dick in someone else it was over.” My cheeks warm as I glance around us, hoping I didn’t say that in front of sensitive ears. “Sorry, but it’s true.”
He smiles again, shaking his head. “No apologies necessary.”
There’s a brief moment of us just sitting there staring at each other. Then he reaches over the seat and offers me his hand. “River,” he says, in a tone that shivers through my body.
“Nice to meet you, River,” I tell him, fighting back a stupid smile. His hand feels so big and strong, yet gentle. It does weird things to me and I’m reluctant to let go.
A moment later, a flight attendant stops by asking if we’d like a drink, breaking the bubble we were in. River orders a whiskey and coke and I order a vodka tonic.
I don’t typically drink on flights, but this is a long one and if he’s having a cocktail, it only feels right to join him.
While we wait for our drinks, I mull over his name.
River.
It’s sturdy, maybe even a little rugged, but also a bit mysterious. With his towering frame, which I’m guessing is at least six-foot-three, maybe taller, and his long, lean muscles, his name suits him.
“I’m going to Maui for a bachelor’s party. One of my best friends from college is getting married,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’m arriving a day later than everyone else, due to work, but looking forward to getting away for a few days.”
“Wow, Maui for a bachelor party, that sounds like so much fun. You always hear of brides and bridesmaids going to exotic places, but I love that you’re getting together with all your dudes.”
He laughs. “My dudes? Yeah, well, we’ve all been friends for a long time and the groom wanted to do something adventurous. We’ve all done the mountain thing—skiing, snowboarding, hiking. We’ve been to Canada and Mexico… you name it, most of us have done it. But we’ve never been to Hawai’i, so that’s what he chose and we’re all here for it.”
“Sounds like my kind of people,” I say with genuine intrigue. “I love traveling. I’ve been to all those places too. Where’s your favorite?”
River doesn’t even think about it. “New Orleans.”
I expect him to laugh and change his answer, but when he doesn’t, my face splits into a wide smile. “It’s my favorite place too.”
“No place like home.”
“Were you born and raised there?”
He shakes his head. “No, I was born in Texas. My Dad’s company moved to New Orleans when I was about ten. My family has lived there ever since.”
“Same,” I say. “Well, I was born in Colorado, but moved to New Orleans when I was thirteen. My dad’s parents lived in Metairie. They were older. My grandfather had prostate cancer and my grandmother was diagnosed with dementia. So, we moved closer to take care of them. They passed away when I was eighteen and my dad died three years later.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” I tell him sincerely. “I miss them every day. But they were all very adventurous people. My dad’s dad had visited every continent by the time he was thirty and almost every country by the time he was fifty. He definitely lived a full life and had wonderful stories to share. I think that’s where I get my wanderlust from.”
River’s eyes twinkle. “I love that.”
For the next few hours, we exchange stories and I learn a lot about River Townsend.
He’s the oldest of three brothers. They all work for their father’s engineering firm, a family business started by his grandfather. They do consulting for civil, structural, mechanical, and electrical engineering.
A few years ago, he went on a three-month backpacking trip across Europe with his brothers after the youngest graduated from college.
Their family seems really close and hearing him talk about them is an adventure by itself.
I tell him about my mom and sister and my grandparents in Colorado. I even confess that my co-workers think I’m in Colorado right now.
He listens intently as I talk about my human resources job working for New Orleans’ MLB team, the Revelers. It’s still relatively new, but I love it so much and when I start talking about it, I can hardly stop myself. But River encourages me to continue, wanting to hear more.
“I know one of the players,” he says when I’m done waxing poetically about how amazing my job is.
“What?” I sit up straighter in my seat, eyes wide. “How? Who?”
River chuckles. “You know how New Orleans is. It’s kind of like a small town in a big city. Everyone knows someone who knows someone… It's like six degrees of separation, but fewer degrees.”
I ponder that thought for a second, because he’s right. It does feel that way sometimes.
“My brother, Reed, lives next door to Owen Thatcher. He’s—”
“A relief pitcher, right hand, mean fast ball,” I say, cutting him off.
His chuckle turns into a full-blown laugh and it’s literal music to my ears.
“And you’re going to think I’m lying, but I know his wife.”
Now, it’s his turn to be shocked.
“I swear,” I tell him, turning in my seat and collecting my hair onto the top of my head, creating a messy bun before I use the scrunchy on my wrist to secure it. “We went to the same school. She was a grade behind me, but we had a few classes together. I ran into her at the stadium right after I started my job and we reconnected.”
“Small fucking world.”
Sighing, I lean back into my seat. It really is. It’s also kind of crazy that we basically know the same people and have these odd connections. “What school did you go to?”
“Holy Cross and then Tulane. You?”
“Sacred Heart and then LSU.”
River’s eyes squint a little, like he’s trying to figure something out. “Twenty-five?”
“Twenty-six. You?”
“Twenty-nine. I’ll be thirty next month.”
“So even if we didn’t go to all-boys and all-girls schools, respectively, we still probably wouldn’t have known each other in high school.”
He offers me a small smile. “Probably not. But I sure would’ve liked to.”
The butterflies that have been flapping around in my stomach take flight.
Chapter 6
When the flight attendant comes by to collect any remaining trash, I’m cracking up over a story River just told me about the time one of his frat brothers covered all the bedroom doors in their frat house with Vaseline-coated cellophane.
“It wasn’t funny at the time,” he says, fighting back his laugh. “Everyone was covered in the shit. We were so pissed.”
“Is he coming on this trip?” I ask, wiping tears from my eyes at the visual of all these frat boys waking up and running into a wall of Vaseline.
“Yes, and I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. But he’s still one of the best guys I know.”
“Sounds like you have a really great group of friends.”
One of the flight attendants starts instructing everyone to put their seats into the upright position and stow away any electronics. Apparently, we’re already making the descent into Maui and I have no idea where the time went.
My heart lurches with the plane as we hit a patch of turbulence. “Whoa,” I mutter, to myself more than anybody else, but I feel River’s gaze turn to me as I tighten my seatbelt and lean back. I’m not a nervous flier, but I absolutely hate turbulence, even though I know it’s normal and nothing to be too worried about.
“You’re good,” he says, in a low, soothing tone. “Just a little bump in the road.”
River’s words and voice calm my nerves, until we hit another patch and the pilot comes over the intercom to remind everyone to stay seated with their seatbelts fastened. I’m gripping the armrest when I feel a hand cover mine.
Turning my head, I see River watching me. “Got a funny story for me?”
“I had two imaginary friends when I was little. Fred and Elmer. They drove a brown Cadillac and listened to The Beatles.”
A deep, warm laugh comes from beside me and causes a rush of heat to course through my body.
“My mom took me to the pediatrician because she thought I might need medical intervention.”
He lets out another laugh. “Do you still have these imaginary friends? Is that who’s sitting in this empty seat? Maybe the whole ex-boyfriend story was a cover-up.”
“No, they retired to Hawai’i when I was in the first grade.”
This has River laughing even harder. “So, that’s the real appeal. You’re on a mission to find lost imaginary friends.”
Now, I’m laughing too and oblivious to the plane as it shimmies and shakes its way to the tarmac.
When we’re on the ground, I let out a sigh, not of relief but of sadness. I’m not ready for this—whatever it is—to end. I’m not ready for River to be a fun memory I think back on when I remember my trip to Maui. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him where he’s staying when his expression turns serious.
“I really enjoyed talking to you,” River starts. “But will you do me a favor and promise me you won’t tell other random men you’re on this trip alone? It’s not safe. If anyone else asks, tell them you’re meeting a friend or something, okay?”
Swallowing, I nod. He’s right. It’s the number one rule of women traveling solo, always seem like you’re not. “I promise,” I assure him. “I’m not normally that forthcoming. You just… I don’t know.” I shrug, struggling to explain how I’m feeling and how I’ve felt since the moment I bumped into him at the coffee shop.
“Yeah,” he says. “Feels like we’ve known each other for a while.”
That’s part of it, but the other part is I’m wildly attracted to him. I just can’t say that.
Can I?
“I know you have an exciting week planned and I have no doubt my schedule is jam-packed, so let's just appreciate this time we’ve had and if we're meant to see each other again, we will.”
I nod as the plane eases up to the gate. “Okay.”
I want to ask for his number or give him mine—at least find out where he’ll be staying for the next few days—but I don’t.
“It was nice meeting you, Shelbi Lewis.”
“It was really great meeting you, River Townsend.”
Once he helps me with my bag for the final time, we follow each other off the airplane and I head one way to the restroom and he keeps going to the arrivals gate. At one point, we both turn around and he gives me a final wave and I give him a smile.
His friends are waiting for him.
And I have an adventure waiting for me.
Chapter 7
Maui is everything I dreamed it would be and more, and that’s not me looking on the bright side.
The people are so welcoming and friendly.
The food is so fresh and delicious.
The beaches are literal paradise and the weather has been perfect.
In the first thirty-six hours, I took a surfing lesson, joined a yoga session on the beach, and now I’m on a boat headed to Honolulu Bay.
The Ka'anapali coastline is breathtaking and worth the boat ride alone. Just a few minutes in and we’ve already passed beautiful resorts and beaches with a backdrop of the West Maui mountains.
Words escape me as I soak in the view and my thoughts turn to River. I wonder what he’s up to today. Has he seen the island from this vantage point? Is he enjoying his stay as much as I am?
“Have you been here before?”
I glance over to see a lovely woman about my mother’s age, smiling brightly.
“No,” I say dreamily, still caught up in my feelings and emotions. “This is my first time. How about you?”
“Oh, I’ve been to Hawai’i a dozen times over the years. It’s our favorite spot to get away from it all. But we’ve never been to Honolulu Bay, so I’m excited to see it. I’ve heard the marine life is exquisite.”
My smile widens as I feed off her excitement, just thinking about the fun that awaits us.
“I love snorkeling and according to a few blog posts I read before booking this excursion, Honolulu Bay is the best around.”
“Where is your partner? I noticed we’re short one. I hope everything is okay.”
The smile on my face falters, but only for a second. “They couldn’t make it.”
After explaining my situation to the surfing instructor yesterday, I decided I didn’t want to rehash it every time someone asked or noticed I’m flying solo. It’s easier to just say they couldn’t make it and leave it at that. No need to bring down my mood or anyone else’s and I definitely don’t want people’s pity.
Because I’m good.
I’m better than good.
I’m living my best life.
“Well, good for you for coming anyway. Some people would’ve let coming alone stop them, so I’m glad you didn’t.” She pats my arm in a motherly gesture and it makes me smile.
“Thanks,” I tell her, turning my attention back to the amazing scenery. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”
Chapter 8
“Dining alone?” the waiter asks, gesturing to the empty seat across from me.
Instead of eating in my room, I decided to branch out and try a restaurant close to the resort. With the open-air dining, a live band playing island music, and a beautiful ocean view, it was the perfect choice.
“Yes, it’ll just be me,” I tell him confidently. A few months ago, this would’ve bothered me. Actually, a few months ago, I probably wouldn’t have been here. So, the fact I am and that I’m embracing every opportunity, makes me sit a little taller and hold my chin a little higher.
“I’ll have a glass of your sauvignon blanc and the seared ahi.”
The waiter smiles. “Great choices. I’ll be right back with your wine.”
While I wait, I take in the view. I’ve always known that the ocean spoke to my soul, but I never would have predicted how much it would heal it. This was exactly what I needed. Just a couple of days in and I already feel so refreshed and renewed.
The waiter comes back quickly with my glass of wine. When the first sip hits my tongue, I close my eyes and savor not only the wine, but the moment. I’m mentally cataloging the memory when a familiar voice catches my attention.
As I open my eyes, they drift across the restaurant to a long table filled with men. But it’s one in particular that makes my stomach flip.
River’s back is to me, but there’s no mistaking that gorgeous head of hair or the gravelly voice I spent eight hours listening intently to. The group is laughing, not disruptively, but they’re definitely having a great time, just like I’d assumed they would.
After hearing his stories, I kind of feel like I know some of them, even though I don’t know who is who. It’s hard to even pinpoint the groom.
For a while, I just inconspicuously observe.
He’s magnetic, not just to me, but to the people around him. Even though he’s understated and reserved, when he speaks, people listen. And when he laughs, good God, it’s more majestic than the Pacific Ocean.
“Can I get you anything else?” the waiter asks as he sets my plate in front of me.
“Another glass of wine would be great,” I tell him.
Prying my attention away from River, I turn it to the plate of seared tuna and vegetables in front of me and my mouth waters. After a day of adventure, I’m absolutely starving.
As I eat, my gaze is still drawn to the table across the patio. At one point, I think River is going to stand, but he just pushes his chair back to grab a bottle of wine that’s down the table. They’re all deep in conversations and occasionally their laughs filter over.
It makes me smile.
I’m happy that he’s happy.
But the question that’s plaguing my mind is, do I say something?
We agreed to go our separate ways, so I’m not sure what the protocol is for running into each other again. If I don’t say something, I’m afraid I’ll be full of regret and I don’t want to live my life like that. If anything, these past six months have taught me to do just the opposite.
Seize the day.
That’s what I promised my sister.
But half an hour later, when I’ve finished eating and paid my bill, I’m still so damn indecisive.
To go over there or not to go over there. And if I do go over there, what am I going to say?
Hi, River. Remember me?
Hey, River. How’s this for a small world?
Gah, this is awful.
Grabbing my purse, I decide to leave it up to fate once more and head to the bathroom, but as I stand, so does the entire table of men. My heart leaps into my throat and then sinks down to my feet as River turns and our eyes meet.
Stowing that thought away for later, I decide to change the topic and take advantage of this opening for a conversation. “Are you going to Maui for business or pleasure?”
“I think everyone goes to Maui for pleasure, whether working while there or not.”
The way his eyes twinkle when he smiles is so enchanting. I could literally watch him do that all day long.
“True,” I finally manage to say without sounding like a love-struck teenager who just ran into her newest crush. “I’ve never been, but always wanted to. It’s the only state I’ve never visited… Hawai’i, that is. I’ve been to all of the continental United States, and Alaska.”
Wow, word vomit much, Shelbi?
I want to roll my eyes at myself, but I refrain, giving him a tenuous smile.
“And you were supposed to take this trip with your ex?”
Instead of responding with words, which I seem to have no control over, I simply nod.
“Why didn’t you cancel his flight? I’m sure you could’ve gotten a refund.”
Swallowing, I avert my eyes to my lap and fidget with a loose strand on the hem of my t-shirt. “I don’t know, actually.”
“Were you hoping to reconcile?” he asks, one brow arched.
“No,” I answer quickly. “The second I caught Dalton with his dick in someone else it was over.” My cheeks warm as I glance around us, hoping I didn’t say that in front of sensitive ears. “Sorry, but it’s true.”
He smiles again, shaking his head. “No apologies necessary.”
There’s a brief moment of us just sitting there staring at each other. Then he reaches over the seat and offers me his hand. “River,” he says, in a tone that shivers through my body.
“Nice to meet you, River,” I tell him, fighting back a stupid smile. His hand feels so big and strong, yet gentle. It does weird things to me and I’m reluctant to let go.
A moment later, a flight attendant stops by asking if we’d like a drink, breaking the bubble we were in. River orders a whiskey and coke and I order a vodka tonic.
I don’t typically drink on flights, but this is a long one and if he’s having a cocktail, it only feels right to join him.
While we wait for our drinks, I mull over his name.
River.
It’s sturdy, maybe even a little rugged, but also a bit mysterious. With his towering frame, which I’m guessing is at least six-foot-three, maybe taller, and his long, lean muscles, his name suits him.
“I’m going to Maui for a bachelor’s party. One of my best friends from college is getting married,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’m arriving a day later than everyone else, due to work, but looking forward to getting away for a few days.”
“Wow, Maui for a bachelor party, that sounds like so much fun. You always hear of brides and bridesmaids going to exotic places, but I love that you’re getting together with all your dudes.”
He laughs. “My dudes? Yeah, well, we’ve all been friends for a long time and the groom wanted to do something adventurous. We’ve all done the mountain thing—skiing, snowboarding, hiking. We’ve been to Canada and Mexico… you name it, most of us have done it. But we’ve never been to Hawai’i, so that’s what he chose and we’re all here for it.”
“Sounds like my kind of people,” I say with genuine intrigue. “I love traveling. I’ve been to all those places too. Where’s your favorite?”
River doesn’t even think about it. “New Orleans.”
I expect him to laugh and change his answer, but when he doesn’t, my face splits into a wide smile. “It’s my favorite place too.”
“No place like home.”
“Were you born and raised there?”
He shakes his head. “No, I was born in Texas. My Dad’s company moved to New Orleans when I was about ten. My family has lived there ever since.”
“Same,” I say. “Well, I was born in Colorado, but moved to New Orleans when I was thirteen. My dad’s parents lived in Metairie. They were older. My grandfather had prostate cancer and my grandmother was diagnosed with dementia. So, we moved closer to take care of them. They passed away when I was eighteen and my dad died three years later.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” I tell him sincerely. “I miss them every day. But they were all very adventurous people. My dad’s dad had visited every continent by the time he was thirty and almost every country by the time he was fifty. He definitely lived a full life and had wonderful stories to share. I think that’s where I get my wanderlust from.”
River’s eyes twinkle. “I love that.”
For the next few hours, we exchange stories and I learn a lot about River Townsend.
He’s the oldest of three brothers. They all work for their father’s engineering firm, a family business started by his grandfather. They do consulting for civil, structural, mechanical, and electrical engineering.
A few years ago, he went on a three-month backpacking trip across Europe with his brothers after the youngest graduated from college.
Their family seems really close and hearing him talk about them is an adventure by itself.
I tell him about my mom and sister and my grandparents in Colorado. I even confess that my co-workers think I’m in Colorado right now.
He listens intently as I talk about my human resources job working for New Orleans’ MLB team, the Revelers. It’s still relatively new, but I love it so much and when I start talking about it, I can hardly stop myself. But River encourages me to continue, wanting to hear more.
“I know one of the players,” he says when I’m done waxing poetically about how amazing my job is.
“What?” I sit up straighter in my seat, eyes wide. “How? Who?”
River chuckles. “You know how New Orleans is. It’s kind of like a small town in a big city. Everyone knows someone who knows someone… It's like six degrees of separation, but fewer degrees.”
I ponder that thought for a second, because he’s right. It does feel that way sometimes.
“My brother, Reed, lives next door to Owen Thatcher. He’s—”
“A relief pitcher, right hand, mean fast ball,” I say, cutting him off.
His chuckle turns into a full-blown laugh and it’s literal music to my ears.
“And you’re going to think I’m lying, but I know his wife.”
Now, it’s his turn to be shocked.
“I swear,” I tell him, turning in my seat and collecting my hair onto the top of my head, creating a messy bun before I use the scrunchy on my wrist to secure it. “We went to the same school. She was a grade behind me, but we had a few classes together. I ran into her at the stadium right after I started my job and we reconnected.”
“Small fucking world.”
Sighing, I lean back into my seat. It really is. It’s also kind of crazy that we basically know the same people and have these odd connections. “What school did you go to?”
“Holy Cross and then Tulane. You?”
“Sacred Heart and then LSU.”
River’s eyes squint a little, like he’s trying to figure something out. “Twenty-five?”
“Twenty-six. You?”
“Twenty-nine. I’ll be thirty next month.”
“So even if we didn’t go to all-boys and all-girls schools, respectively, we still probably wouldn’t have known each other in high school.”
He offers me a small smile. “Probably not. But I sure would’ve liked to.”
The butterflies that have been flapping around in my stomach take flight.
Chapter 6
When the flight attendant comes by to collect any remaining trash, I’m cracking up over a story River just told me about the time one of his frat brothers covered all the bedroom doors in their frat house with Vaseline-coated cellophane.
“It wasn’t funny at the time,” he says, fighting back his laugh. “Everyone was covered in the shit. We were so pissed.”
“Is he coming on this trip?” I ask, wiping tears from my eyes at the visual of all these frat boys waking up and running into a wall of Vaseline.
“Yes, and I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. But he’s still one of the best guys I know.”
“Sounds like you have a really great group of friends.”
One of the flight attendants starts instructing everyone to put their seats into the upright position and stow away any electronics. Apparently, we’re already making the descent into Maui and I have no idea where the time went.
My heart lurches with the plane as we hit a patch of turbulence. “Whoa,” I mutter, to myself more than anybody else, but I feel River’s gaze turn to me as I tighten my seatbelt and lean back. I’m not a nervous flier, but I absolutely hate turbulence, even though I know it’s normal and nothing to be too worried about.
“You’re good,” he says, in a low, soothing tone. “Just a little bump in the road.”
River’s words and voice calm my nerves, until we hit another patch and the pilot comes over the intercom to remind everyone to stay seated with their seatbelts fastened. I’m gripping the armrest when I feel a hand cover mine.
Turning my head, I see River watching me. “Got a funny story for me?”
“I had two imaginary friends when I was little. Fred and Elmer. They drove a brown Cadillac and listened to The Beatles.”
A deep, warm laugh comes from beside me and causes a rush of heat to course through my body.
“My mom took me to the pediatrician because she thought I might need medical intervention.”
He lets out another laugh. “Do you still have these imaginary friends? Is that who’s sitting in this empty seat? Maybe the whole ex-boyfriend story was a cover-up.”
“No, they retired to Hawai’i when I was in the first grade.”
This has River laughing even harder. “So, that’s the real appeal. You’re on a mission to find lost imaginary friends.”
Now, I’m laughing too and oblivious to the plane as it shimmies and shakes its way to the tarmac.
When we’re on the ground, I let out a sigh, not of relief but of sadness. I’m not ready for this—whatever it is—to end. I’m not ready for River to be a fun memory I think back on when I remember my trip to Maui. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him where he’s staying when his expression turns serious.
“I really enjoyed talking to you,” River starts. “But will you do me a favor and promise me you won’t tell other random men you’re on this trip alone? It’s not safe. If anyone else asks, tell them you’re meeting a friend or something, okay?”
Swallowing, I nod. He’s right. It’s the number one rule of women traveling solo, always seem like you’re not. “I promise,” I assure him. “I’m not normally that forthcoming. You just… I don’t know.” I shrug, struggling to explain how I’m feeling and how I’ve felt since the moment I bumped into him at the coffee shop.
“Yeah,” he says. “Feels like we’ve known each other for a while.”
That’s part of it, but the other part is I’m wildly attracted to him. I just can’t say that.
Can I?
“I know you have an exciting week planned and I have no doubt my schedule is jam-packed, so let's just appreciate this time we’ve had and if we're meant to see each other again, we will.”
I nod as the plane eases up to the gate. “Okay.”
I want to ask for his number or give him mine—at least find out where he’ll be staying for the next few days—but I don’t.
“It was nice meeting you, Shelbi Lewis.”
“It was really great meeting you, River Townsend.”
Once he helps me with my bag for the final time, we follow each other off the airplane and I head one way to the restroom and he keeps going to the arrivals gate. At one point, we both turn around and he gives me a final wave and I give him a smile.
His friends are waiting for him.
And I have an adventure waiting for me.
Chapter 7
Maui is everything I dreamed it would be and more, and that’s not me looking on the bright side.
The people are so welcoming and friendly.
The food is so fresh and delicious.
The beaches are literal paradise and the weather has been perfect.
In the first thirty-six hours, I took a surfing lesson, joined a yoga session on the beach, and now I’m on a boat headed to Honolulu Bay.
The Ka'anapali coastline is breathtaking and worth the boat ride alone. Just a few minutes in and we’ve already passed beautiful resorts and beaches with a backdrop of the West Maui mountains.
Words escape me as I soak in the view and my thoughts turn to River. I wonder what he’s up to today. Has he seen the island from this vantage point? Is he enjoying his stay as much as I am?
“Have you been here before?”
I glance over to see a lovely woman about my mother’s age, smiling brightly.
“No,” I say dreamily, still caught up in my feelings and emotions. “This is my first time. How about you?”
“Oh, I’ve been to Hawai’i a dozen times over the years. It’s our favorite spot to get away from it all. But we’ve never been to Honolulu Bay, so I’m excited to see it. I’ve heard the marine life is exquisite.”
My smile widens as I feed off her excitement, just thinking about the fun that awaits us.
“I love snorkeling and according to a few blog posts I read before booking this excursion, Honolulu Bay is the best around.”
“Where is your partner? I noticed we’re short one. I hope everything is okay.”
The smile on my face falters, but only for a second. “They couldn’t make it.”
After explaining my situation to the surfing instructor yesterday, I decided I didn’t want to rehash it every time someone asked or noticed I’m flying solo. It’s easier to just say they couldn’t make it and leave it at that. No need to bring down my mood or anyone else’s and I definitely don’t want people’s pity.
Because I’m good.
I’m better than good.
I’m living my best life.
“Well, good for you for coming anyway. Some people would’ve let coming alone stop them, so I’m glad you didn’t.” She pats my arm in a motherly gesture and it makes me smile.
“Thanks,” I tell her, turning my attention back to the amazing scenery. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”
Chapter 8
“Dining alone?” the waiter asks, gesturing to the empty seat across from me.
Instead of eating in my room, I decided to branch out and try a restaurant close to the resort. With the open-air dining, a live band playing island music, and a beautiful ocean view, it was the perfect choice.
“Yes, it’ll just be me,” I tell him confidently. A few months ago, this would’ve bothered me. Actually, a few months ago, I probably wouldn’t have been here. So, the fact I am and that I’m embracing every opportunity, makes me sit a little taller and hold my chin a little higher.
“I’ll have a glass of your sauvignon blanc and the seared ahi.”
The waiter smiles. “Great choices. I’ll be right back with your wine.”
While I wait, I take in the view. I’ve always known that the ocean spoke to my soul, but I never would have predicted how much it would heal it. This was exactly what I needed. Just a couple of days in and I already feel so refreshed and renewed.
The waiter comes back quickly with my glass of wine. When the first sip hits my tongue, I close my eyes and savor not only the wine, but the moment. I’m mentally cataloging the memory when a familiar voice catches my attention.
As I open my eyes, they drift across the restaurant to a long table filled with men. But it’s one in particular that makes my stomach flip.
River’s back is to me, but there’s no mistaking that gorgeous head of hair or the gravelly voice I spent eight hours listening intently to. The group is laughing, not disruptively, but they’re definitely having a great time, just like I’d assumed they would.
After hearing his stories, I kind of feel like I know some of them, even though I don’t know who is who. It’s hard to even pinpoint the groom.
For a while, I just inconspicuously observe.
He’s magnetic, not just to me, but to the people around him. Even though he’s understated and reserved, when he speaks, people listen. And when he laughs, good God, it’s more majestic than the Pacific Ocean.
“Can I get you anything else?” the waiter asks as he sets my plate in front of me.
“Another glass of wine would be great,” I tell him.
Prying my attention away from River, I turn it to the plate of seared tuna and vegetables in front of me and my mouth waters. After a day of adventure, I’m absolutely starving.
As I eat, my gaze is still drawn to the table across the patio. At one point, I think River is going to stand, but he just pushes his chair back to grab a bottle of wine that’s down the table. They’re all deep in conversations and occasionally their laughs filter over.
It makes me smile.
I’m happy that he’s happy.
But the question that’s plaguing my mind is, do I say something?
We agreed to go our separate ways, so I’m not sure what the protocol is for running into each other again. If I don’t say something, I’m afraid I’ll be full of regret and I don’t want to live my life like that. If anything, these past six months have taught me to do just the opposite.
Seize the day.
That’s what I promised my sister.
But half an hour later, when I’ve finished eating and paid my bill, I’m still so damn indecisive.
To go over there or not to go over there. And if I do go over there, what am I going to say?
Hi, River. Remember me?
Hey, River. How’s this for a small world?
Gah, this is awful.
Grabbing my purse, I decide to leave it up to fate once more and head to the bathroom, but as I stand, so does the entire table of men. My heart leaps into my throat and then sinks down to my feet as River turns and our eyes meet.
