Page 78 of Below the Barrel

I take a step forward, holding out my hand nervously. “It’s nice to meet you.”

His grip is firm, but he pulls me into a quick hug instead of just a handshake. “C’mere, give me a real hug.”

I laugh, hugging him back, surprised by the affection but grateful for the warmth of it. He squeezes me tight but quick,then pulls away with a smile. “We’ve been waiting to meet you for years. I was hoping I’d meet you standing on my own two feet, but life had other plans. Wheels will have to do.”

There’s no bitterness in his voice, just acceptance and a lightness that puts me at ease. I smile, touched by how easygoing he is. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, wheels or not.”

Koa steps back to the tree and picks up the star from the box of decorations. He walks back to his father, kneeling beside him. “Ready for the finishing touch, Dad?”

His father’s eyes light up. “Go for it, son.”

With a soft smile, Koa reaches up and places the star at the top of the tree, carefully adjusting it so it sits perfectly. When he steps back, the whole tree seems to glow even brighter. His dad watches with pride, his smile full of emotion, while Koa’s mom gives his shoulders another gentle squeeze.

“Perfect,” Koa’s dad says softly.

And it really is.

“Koa tellsme you like to bake! How about we head into the kitchen and whip up dessert together and leave these guys to catch up?” Koa’s mom asks, her eyes sparkling with warmth.

My eyes light up at the invitation, a little thrill running through me at the thought of spending time with her doing something I love. “I’d love that,” I reply, following her into the kitchen.

As soon as we step inside, I’m in awe. The kitchen is spacious, with warm wooden cabinets lining the walls and a large island in the centre. The countertops are polished granite, and the airsmells faintly of coffee and coconut. A set of open windows lets in a soft breeze, carrying the scent of the ocean and the distant hum of waves. It’s cozy and homey, with a lived-in feel that immediately puts me at ease.

“What were you thinking of making for dessert?” I ask, excitement bubbling up inside me.

She taps her chin thoughtfully, a playful glint in her eye. “Hmm, what’s your favourite Christmas dessert?”

I think for a moment, recalling the recipes I used to make during the holidays. “I haven’t made them in a while, but I used to love making chocolate cupcakes with peppermint frosting,” I offer, almost shyly.

Her face lights up as if I’ve just suggested something extravagant. “That sounds absolutely delicious! Let’s make that.”

Her enthusiasm makes me grin, and soon enough we’re pulling out ingredients from the cabinets, setting everything up on the island. The kitchen fills with the sounds of mixing bowls and laughter as we chat and work side by side, quickly falling into an easy rhythm.

We spend the next thirty minutes prepping the dessert together, carefully measuring out cocoa powder, sugar, and flour, whisking it all into a rich batter, Koa’s mom stirs the chocolate mixture with graceful familiarity.

“You know, Koa was always so passionate about surfing,” she says, her voice softening with nostalgia. “From the moment he could walk, that boy was drawn to the ocean. It became his whole world. I swear, he spent more time in the water than on land. It was clear early on that it wasn’t just a hobby for him—it was everything.”

I smile at the thought, imagining a young Koa with that same determined glint in his eye, probably the tiniest surfboardtucked under his arm. “I wish I could see what he looked like back then.”

“I’ll sneak you some pictures when he’s not looking.” She laughs as she wipes her hands on a towel. “Sending him off to The Saltwater Shredders was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. We’re such a tight-knit family. My sisters, their kids, they come by almost every day. It almost feels like we all live here together in this house. And the idea of not having Koa around, not seeing him at the dinner table every night, it broke me.”

I glance over at her, seeing the quiet pain in her expression as she remembers those days. I feel a wave of guilt knowing that his time with The Shredders is what kept him away from her. From here.

“But,” she continues, her voice lifting with a smile, “when I heard how much he was loving it there…because of you, Maliah…I knew I made the right decision for him. He speaks about you a lot, you know. I can hear how happy he is in his voice.”

My heart skips at her words. I never thought Koa had talked about me with his mom, and hearing it now sends a warm rush through my chest. “He does?” I ask quietly, almost not believing it.

“Oh, he does,” she says with a knowing smile, setting the cupcakes into the oven. “He always said you kept him grounded, kept him focused on what really mattered. It was like he’d found someone who finally understood him, in a way none of us ever could.”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, overwhelmed by the unexpected compliment. “I didn’t know he felt that way,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.

Koa’s mom smiles warmly at me, reaching over to give my hand a gentle squeeze. “He always has, and he still does.”

Koa walks into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with a soft smile. “Hey, do you mind if I steal Maliah for a bit?” His voice is casual, but there’s something in the way he looks at his mom that catches my attention.

His mom shares a quick, almost secretive glance with him, but it’s gone as quickly as it came, and I try not to overthink it.

“I can’t,” I argue lightly, pointing at the oven. “I still have to pipe the frosting onto these when they’re out of the oven.”

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