Page 72 of Resorting to Romance

Kai steps in, solving the problem like he so often does. “I thought we could keep it in the locker at the watersports shack with Bodhi’s and mine and Ben’s. No one will mess with it there.”He looks down at Noah. “You’ll be surfing with us for a while anyway, so it makes sense to keep it where we surf, yeah?”

“Makes sense to me,” Noah says, sounding like one of the guys, not my son who still needs me to come into his room and sit with him in the dark hours of the night when he has a nightmare.

The line between childhood and the next stage of his life is approaching like a dot on the horizon, becoming clearer and clearer every day. One day, he’ll be the man buying some boy a surfboard. And that day is not as far off as I had fooled myself into imagining it would be.

Noah smiles at Kai like he invented surfing and carved this particular surfboard with his own hands. Kai just might have. And if he did, I don’t even want to know because then I absolutely will run over and wrap my arms around him … in front of Noah and Chloe and anyone else who happens to be nearby.

“It’s my birthday next week, Unko!”

“I know, boss man.”

“I’m gonna be seven. And you should come.”

“I’d love it.”

“All my friends are going to the beach and we can play in the water and surf and then eat food on the blankets my mom puts out on the sand. And you don’t even have to bring a present because you got me my board already.”

We all laugh.

“Sounds good,” Kai says to Noah, but he looks at me when he says the next sentence.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

TWENTY

Mila

“I will be watching you and if I find that you are trying to corrupt my first born child,

I will bring you down, baby.

I will bring you down to Chinatown.”

~ Jack, Meet the Parents

Phyllis is flitting around her dining room, adjusting plates on the table. Yesterday, after Noah insisted on calling each of my aunts and telling them about the surfboard Kai gave him, Phyllis announced that they were having Kai and me over for dinner tonight.

If you don’t know Phyllis, let me tell you, when she tells you that you’re coming to dinner, you’re coming to dinner. She came to my house earlier today to help prepare a meal for my midweek guests. Chloe’s there now, with Davis, who is a saint, serving my guests and babysitting Noah so I can get away.

I only have two guests staying with me right now. Spring is approaching and that means my weekends are starting to fill. We have three weeks until Spring Break on the mainland. Thatalways kicks off my busy season. I’m already booked out that whole week. All ten rooms upstairs and the one room on the opposite wing of the downstairs from where Noah and I live are reserved. It won’t officially let up until after Labor Day.

“Where should I put this?” I hold the charcuterie board with both hands. “And are you sure Kai and I are the only two guests? There’s enough food to feed a crowd in there.”

“Never under prepare. You can’t ever be sure how much your guests will eat. There’s nothing worse than sending someone home hungry.”

“I’m relatively sure Kai and I won’t eat a pound of lunch meat a piece.”

“Set it there.” Phyllis points to a side table along the side wall of the dining room. “No. No. On second thought, the coffee table. That way we can nosh before dinner. While we chat.”

Chat. Why are images of bare bulbs over metal chairs flashing through my head? This is an interrogation plain and simple.

There’s a knock at the door. Phyllis shouts, “Joan? Can you get that?”

Joan answers the door and announces, “It’s Alana!”

“Alana?” I look at my aunt. “Alana Graves?”

“Yes. She’s my friend.”

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