Page 36 of Turbulent Fires

We make our way up the hill the town’s built on to the Wrigley Memorial and Botanic Garden. I like it. The Memorial is massive and fun to explore. The man was certainly a legend on the island he bought. Who in the world can buy an entire island? Apparently, the Wrigleys. We hike up a trail through native desert flora, cacti taller than I am, and bursts of purple flowers. From the top, the view of Avalon Harbor sparkles like a sapphire tucked into green hills.

“My dad used to bring us here often,” Wolf says, his voice more subdued. “He always told me it was a great place to think. He wasn’t wrong.”

I steal a glance at him, trying not to fall in love. There’s something about Wolf when he talks about his parents that draws me closer to him. There’s a true softness beneath all of his swagger. I store away these moments like found treasures.

When we’re done, we make our way back to town and head to the famous Green Pier that has several of the island tours, food, and fishing charters. We find Mario leaning against the rail. Wolf introduces me, and the man gives an easy smile that makes me feel at ease.

“What are you up to this fine afternoon?” Mario asks.

“Exploring,” he says.

“Have any golf cart races scheduled with the tourists?” Wolf laughs as he shakes his head.

“Not today, Mario,” he says. “Well, unless someone starts talking trash, then you know I have to put them in their place.”

Mario looks at me. “I think you could beat him. You look like a scrapper.”

Now I’m bonded to the man. “I agree, I could take him out,” I say.

We say goodbye, then head back down the street and stop at the Catalina Coffee and Cookie Company and grab iced lattes and what they say is the world’s best brownie. They aren’t wrong. A couple is playing music, so we sit and listen.

“That’s Eddie and Cindy. They play every weekend, and more days in the summer,” Wolf tells me.

“They’re very good. He has an incredible voice.” I’d be happy to sit here all day and listen while writing.

“Play something romantic,” Wolf calls out. I feel my cheeks heat.

“What do I get out of it?” Cindy calls back.

“My undying gratitude,” Wolf says with a wink. She shakes her head, but they begin playingHooked on a Feeling. I laugh.

We finish our snack, then decide to walk off the calories so we’ll be able to consume more. We move up through Avalon Canyon, the road lined with eucalyptus trees that look as if they’ve seen better days as they sway gently in the breeze.

“Wrigley’s wife had all of these trees planted because her husband would stay out late drinking with his friend. But they aren’t native to the island, so they’ve been sick, and that’s why they look the way they do. She also put in the Bell Chime tower to annoy her husband because he’d stay out partying so late. She made sure the tower chimed every fifteen minutes just to annoy him.”

I laugh. “Now that’s a woman after my own heart.”

“Women can be mean,” he says with his own chuckle. Everywhere we look there’s beauty. Plants are spread across terraces, a patchwork of desert colors and textures, aloe, prickly pear, and vibrant native succulents.

“This really is peaceful,” I tell him, stopping to admire a sprawling agave.

“Yes, it is. The more you get out of the busy touristy areas, the more peaceful it is.”

“My mother loved walking all areas of the island. It’s safe with no predator animals and very low crime. She’d bring us on overnight trips deeper into the island, and we’d make camp, having small fires and cooking meals while telling stories. She said it was good for our souls to see nearly untouched areas.”

“You don’t talk much about your mom,” I point out.

“I don’t talk about a lot of things,” he says, trying to shake off his sadness. He immediately shakes his head. “That’s an excuse. It’s hard to accept that she’s gone even after so many years. I miss them both very much. It’s always harder here because we were so close and had so many adventures together.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I can’t imagine it gets easier.”

“No, but the pain lessens over time. Once in a while it slams back into me, though, like a wrecking ball, usually at the most unexpected moments.”

“Tell me something great about them.”

He smiles. “They were wild and free. They loved to travel, but also loved being home. They’d laugh all day and find joy in whatever they were doing. My mother loved to dance, and it wouldn’t take long for my father to pull her into his arms, tuning out the rest of the world as they gazed at each other like it was the first time they’d seen one another. We’d make gagging sounds, but we secretly loved how much they loved each other and us. By the time we were teens we knew that was unusual as the majority of our friends’ parents were divorced. I’m glad we appreciated what we had. Sure, we didn’t always appreciate it as much as we should, but we knew we had a special family. I don’t understand why they were the ones taken too soon. I’ll never understand it, but I live for them as much as for myself because it’s what they would’ve wanted.”

“If everyone could have a love like theirs, fear would evaporate,” I say with a chuckle.

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