2. Lani

2

Lani

A ll week, the sky over Pualena had been low and gray.

Thick clouds and a steady drizzle gave their days a timeless, angsty quality.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the island, summer was in full swing. The sun blazed in an endless blue sky, its heat and light doubled as it bounced off of bright sand and turquoise water.

Lani lay sprawled in the warm sand, soaking up the Kona sunshine while she could.

“Hey there, beautiful.” Tenn dropped down onto the sand next to her, and she squinted to see him in the sunshine. Seawater dripped down the planes of his face and his bare shoulders, golden brown from hours and days spent out on a surfboard. Lani’s skin had the same healthy glow; after years of winter pallor in Alaska, it was beautiful to see.

“How’s the surf?” She had paddled out with him at sunrise, but when the break got crowded she’d opted to go back to shore and warm up.

“I caught a few more waves, but the wind’s picking up now.”

“Is it?” Her voice was lazy and languid as she closed her eyes and tipped her face up towards the sun. The high black lava rocks to their right shielded her from both wind and tourists, creating the perfect sheltered cove for sunbathing. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“This might be the most relaxed I’ve ever seen you.”

“Of course I’m relaxed. We’re on our honeymoon.”

“A three-day camping trip isn’t much of a honeymoon.” His tone was apologetic, even regretful, and Lani sat up to look at him.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be. You know that, right?”

“Not even one of those five-star resorts up the coast?”

“With all the tourists?” she scoffed. “Why would I want to be up there when we can sleep on the beach and listen to the waves all night? I saw a monk seal on my way to the bathrooms this morning. How’s a hotel supposed to compete with that?”

“Good point,” Tenn conceded. His grin was back, warming her more than a full day of Kona sunshine. When he leaned in to kiss her, though, his skin was still cold from surfing.

“You’re freezing!”

“I don’t feel cold.” He kissed her again, then leaned away. “But I am starving. Is there any ceviche left?”

“Yep, lots. I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Perfect. Let’s finish that off. Or should we eat the rest of that papaya first?”

“Granola bowls for breakfast, ceviche for second breakfast?”

“I like the way you think.” He went and rinsed his sandy hands in the ocean, then came back and prepared them two bowls of lilikoi yogurt topped with granola, papaya, and bananas. The fruit was from their backyard, and the other two ingredients were homemade gifts from friends. It was a delicious, deeply nourishing meal – but then, so was every meal that Tenn made.

The love that he poured into his food was one of a thousand things that she loved about him, and that list just kept getting longer.

He grinned cheekily when he caught her staring.

“What are you looking at?”

“You,” she said simply.

“What, do I have something on my face?”

“You do, actually.” She laughed and brushed a speck of granola off of his chin. “But that’s not why I was staring.”

“So?” he teased. “Why were you staring?”

“I love you is all.”

“Oh, is that all?” He leaned forward to kiss her and she breathed him in: tropical fruit and salt and sunshine. “I love you too.”

They spent the whole day doing a whole lot of nothing: walking the beach together, swimming in the crystal-clear water, feasting on the food that Tenn had brought.

It was a perfect day – but when they sat side by side, watching a Kona sunset set the sky ablaze, a certain restlessness crept into her heart.

Lani had meant what she’d said: she would rather camp on the beach than stay in some overpriced hotel up the coast. But there was one place in the world that she loved even more, and that was the home she shared with her husband.

She loved falling asleep beside him, wrapped in clean sheets listening to the coqui frogs sing outside, and she loved waking up to the sound of their little girls giggling down the hall.

“Thank you for making this happen,” she said, leaning into him and looping an arm around his bent knees. “It was the perfect getaway.”

“It was.” He put an arm around her and kissed her temple. Then he smirked as he said, “You want to go home, don’t you?”

She gave him puppy-dog eyes. “The tent is all sandy.”

“And you miss Rory.”

“I miss both of them.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to sleep in our own bed?” she asked. “We could pick them up early and take them out to breakfast.”

“I like that plan.” He kissed her again, then stood. “You enjoy the sunset. I’ll pack up before we lose the light.”

“I’ll help.” She pushed herself to her feet and turned away from the pink-and-orange sky. Tenn’s face, lit by that last fiery golden light, was more beautiful than any sunset.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She smiled up at him, feeling happier than she ever had. “Let’s go home.”