He’s a man of very few words, but we are complete strangers. Just because Alana welcomed me with open arms, acting like I was family, doesn’t mean Nate needs to respond in turn.
“The last time I was here, I was twelve. The apartment didn’t look like this. It was…” I trail off, smiling a little when I think about how outdated it was. It was something out of a fifties Hawaiian movie. I felt like Elvis should have been singing “Blue Hawaii”, something I’m only familiar with because of my mom’s job. AndLilo and Stitch, if I’m being honest.
“Yeah, it was pretty quintessential Hawaiian before,” Nate tells me, and when I look over at him, he’s smiling too. “I kinda liked it.”
“Me too.”
We fall silent again, a strange connection linking us, and I feel it move through me. Maybe this is what my mom was talking about. Connect with my dad’s friends and I’ll connect with him.
I do miss the familiarity of his old house, but the renovations are gorgeous. The idea of tearing this down and building a high-rise hotel stings a little.
The wood in this house has to be at least seventy years old, and that makes me wonder what The Pipe Dream was before it became The Pipe Dream. It’s been here longer than The Pipe Dream has been open.
“I miss the gold-flecked counters,” Nate admits, a sweetness in his words, the memory catching him and making him more relatable.
“I miss the bowling alley carpet,” I reply, letting out a small laugh. That’s exactly what it looked like to me back then. It was old and matted, a terrible mix of mustard yellow and burnt orange.
“You know he wanted to keep that when he did the renovations?” Nate says, letting out a laugh to match mine. “Alana had to convince him that it just wouldn’t go with the aesthetic.” I look over at him, furrowing my brow, and Nate lets out a hearty chuckle. “That was her word, not mine.”
“What was The Pipe Dream before my dad bought it?” I ask, trying to engage with Nate, trying to appease my mom and do what she told me to. “Was it always a surf shop?”
“No, it was this old couple who made banana bread. It was a little bakery, but the couple got old, and the place went up for sale.”
“And that’s when my dad bought it?” I ask, genuinely curious. When I talked to my dad, we never talked about his life or his business. It was always about me. I was a kid, and he would ask the questions and I would answer.
“Actually no. It sold to a developer, and it was to be the first luxury hotel on this side of the island,” Nate says, wandering back to the chairs, he sits down. Following him, I do the same, and he keeps talking. “This was back like thirty or forty years ago or something, and from what Mitch told me, there was a ton of backlash. There still would be,” Nate adds, and I don’t take it as a jab at me, even if that’s how he intends it.
“I get that,” I reply, again trying to be more like my mother, diplomatic and not taking it too personally. “What happened then?”
“It was during a time when the economy was shitty, and tourism was low because it cost a lot to travel here, and the developers went into foreclosure before they could ever get started.”
“And that’s how my dad got the building?”
“That’s it. Simple story. The bank who took over the loan was a local bank, and they didn’t dare sell it to another developer, especially after what happened with the locals when that did happen. Mitch had saved a bunch of money from surf lessons and helping Tanner with boards that he was able to pay cash.” Nate shrugs, but the story isn’t really that simple. It was built on hard work and a love for the area.
I hold that thought close, knowing my dad wouldn’t ever want all his hard work to disappear overnight, which is what will happen if I sell The Pipe Dream. The conditions aren’t the same as they were back then. Tourism is booming here, the economy following suit.
“Have you ever considered buying The Pipe Dream?” I ask, knowing nothing about Nate’s financials, but his dedication to The Pipe Dream shows.
“Nah, I could never afford it. I live here rent-free because…” And again, he stops without finishing his thought. I have no idea what he was about to say, but for once, it wasn’t a jab at me.
I tilt my head to the side, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t.
“You want to get dressed and come with me?” Nate now says, and I swear we’re going to give each other whiplash with these conversation changes.
“Where?”
“I need to open The Pipe Dream. You can see some more of what we do. Might help you make your decision,” Nate says, the animosity now gone.
“I know you work hard,” I instantly say, not wanting Nate to think I’ve shown up here thinking he and Alana are useless and expendable.
“Yeah, I know, but I think it might help you to see that it isn’t just a surf shop. Your dad put a lot into it, a lot that people don’t even know about because he was…well, he was Mitch.” Nate chuckles, and he doesn’t have to elaborate. Even if I didn’t have a close relationship with my father, this description fits him to a tee. It’s exactly how my mother would have described him too.
“It’s a lot of money,” I counter, not really trying to defend myself, but trying to appeal to something Nate doesn’t have a lot of. Maybe he can understand that part. It’s hard to turn down money.
“Of course it is. I’ve been through it with Mitch for years, but you gotta…” He stops again, and it feels like this is who we are now. Always dancing around the truth, afraid to piss the other one off. “Just come with me. Please.”
He’s really quite handsome with his muscled and tanned skin. He has these perfect features that make him look like a model for a surf magazine. His eyes seem to draw me in with their deep shade of brown flecked with gold, and I take in the way he watches me.