3. Kai

THREE

I'm very much a homebody.

~ Liam Neeson

Club Descanso is loud and crowded. Or maybe I'm getting too old for this scene.

"Kai?" A woman I recognize from the resort approaches the high-top table where I'm sitting watching Ben, Summer, Riley and Cam out on the dance floor.

"Yeah. Hi." I don't use her name because, honestly, I forgot it.

"Gemma," she says, giggling lightly and pointing to herself with one manicured finger.

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I knew that." I politely nod toward the chair next to me.

Gemma takes the open seat, smiling widely. She sets her glass in front of her, swirling her drink and looking me in the eye like I'm an old friend, or maybe a conquest. I might be imagining the note of coyness in her eyes. Maybe that's just her way with people. I'm so out of practice I can't even tell if a woman is hitting on me. I'm not sure I want to hone my skills when it comes to dating. I'm pretty certain I'm ready to retreat, retire or tender my resignation—whatever a man does to bow out of the dating pool—and it's only my first night out.

"So, how are things at watersports?"

"Good."

Small talk hurts.

A slightly excruciating buzzing sort of pressure radiates from my throat to my chest as I try to muster up something interesting to say or ask.

Nope. I've got nothing.

"We're pretty busy at Chops," Gemma offers, not seeming the least bit bothered by my current lack of social skills.

Ah. Yes. The steakhouse. That's where she works.

"Nothing much changes for us even when the weather gets colder. People always want to have a fancy dinner while they're here on the island. Some people even ferry in for a night out."

"Sounds about right."

"So, what brings you out tonight?"

Gemma leans in a little, propping her elbow on the table and tilting her arm so her chin rests on the back of her hand. She's a beautiful woman … confident … seems nice. I don't know why I'm thinking about that mutt back at my place and whether he's ready to go do his business and get to sleep right now.

"I'm here with friends."

"Against your will?" Gemma's brows lift playfully and she looks over at me through her lashes.

I smile back at her. "Basically. I guess I'm sort of a homebody these days. Ben talked me into coming out dancing."

"And yet, you're sitting here alone."

"Not now, I'm not."

"No, you aren't." She smiles again. "Should we dance?"

"I … don't know. I haven't danced in a while. Maybe I should just stick to keeping this chair occupied."

"Nonsense. You should dance. If I know Ben—and I do—he'll give you all sorts of grief if you don't dance at least a little tonight."

She's got a point.

"You're probably right. I'd better get out there for at least one song."

Instead of judging me, or looking put out, Gemma smiles at me. It's not exactly a grin full of pity. But it's something akin to that—pity with a dash of compassion.

I look around. Men at the bar and at other tables are all eyeing Gemma. She's wearing jeans that fit her well. She's tall, but she's not afraid to wear heels. Her blouse is ruffled and tucked into the front of her pants in a way that looks stylish. And her brown wavy hair seems like she put some effort into it. Gemma's got an air about her that draws attention. And still, I'm thinking about how I can dance this one dance and graciously bow out as soon as I'm able.

Gemma leads the way, weaving her way between tables, looking over her shoulder occasionally, probably to make sure I haven't changed my mind and bolted for the exit. When she's on the dance floor in the middle of the room, she pivots toward me and begins swaying her hips as I approach. Her smile returns, comfortable and easy. I look over at Ben and make eye contact. He gives me a thumbs up.

When I turn my attention back to Gemma, she's dancing with her elbows tucked into her sides and her hands extended, fingers pinched like she could snap along with the music. She's moving to the beat, smiling freely and twisting her hips and shoulders. It all looks effortless, while I feel like a boy at his first junior high dance. I can dance. I grew up on Hawaii, learning dances for certain local ceremonies and at parties. And, I'm a surfer—ex pro. I know how to use my body.

The problem with me is mental. When my brain starts to loop and swirl in overthinking spirals, my body stops listening, and the two seem to war against one another rather than cooperating. So, I sway in place. It's a safe choice. I won't fall over and I don't look too foolish. Or, maybe I do. If I look as stiff as I feel, while Gemma looks like she was born to move on a dance floor, I definitely look foolish right now.

Gemma reaches out, placing her hands on either side of my waist. She presses lightly, moving me along with the beat of the song. It should feel intrusive or intimate. Instead, she makes me feel like I've got a friend, encouraging me to get over myself and have an ounce of fun. I give in at some point, and end up dancing three songs before I thank her and turn back toward my table and the comfort of the barstool I was sitting on before she approached me.

"Don't be a stranger, Kai," Gemma leans in and whispers in my ear before I step off the wooden floor onto the epoxy covered concrete that fills the rest of the room.

"Thank you for pushing me out of my comfort zone. I appreciate it." I smile at her.

"My pleasure." Gemma winks at me, dragging her hand slowly down my arm before she turns toward a group of women and joins them at the bar. The way they all light up when she approaches tells me she came with them, or they're her friends.

Back at my table, I don't bother taking my seat, but I do take a long sip of my drink. I almost make a clean getaway, but a voice behind me calls my name.

Ben.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Look at my boss, out here dancing with a beautiful woman."

Summer walks up next to her husband and wraps her arm around his waist. Ben tugs her in close, placing a soft kiss on her temple. She smiles up at him.

"Want something to drink, Monroe?" Ben uses the nickname I've heard him call Summer even before she started giving him the time of day.

The comfort between them reminds me of my sister and Bodhi. It's the ease and familiarity of a good relationship, and the fondness that comes when you find your person among all the others in the world. I've been lucky to grow up in a family where my parents love one another. It's not the same electric type of chemistry common to couples around my age. Theirs is a love that's grown over time, mellow, comfortable, and certain. But my dad still looks at my mom like she's his world, and she returns the favor in her own quiet way.

"Okay. Well. I danced. And, I've got to get back to my sister's dog."

"Who is probably asleep on your couch. Why leave so soon? Gemma seemed into you." Ben nearly pouts.

"Did she?"

Summer smiles sympathetically at me. She turns to Ben, "Let Kai bow out, Ben."

Ben and Summer exchange some sort of secret couple conversation without uttering a word to one another. They simply stare into one another's eyes, while their expressions morph nearly imperceptibly.

When they seem to have come to some sort of understanding, Ben says, "Okay, I'll let you ditch us. But if you ask me, you're walking away from an opportunity. I know Gemma. She's nice and pretty easygoing."

"I enjoyed our dance." I'm already pushing my stool in and taking my first step toward the door.

"Well, you'll have to come out again another time."

"We'll see. You two go have fun."

The walk home is peaceful. A breeze blowing in off the ocean and across the beach brushes over my cheeks, bringing a welcome cooling after spending a few hours in a crowded dance club. Our house is only a few blocks south of the club, one block in from the ocean in a residential section of Descanso. I pause before turning up my street. Standing at the edge of the sand, I breathe in the ocean air.

I could have stayed, walked Gemma home, or at least danced some more.

But I'm not a twenty-something-year-old guy, out for a good time. Something happened to me when I turned thirty. If I date, it's not merely to distract myself or find some temporary comfort and companionship. I'm looking for something serious. Or not. And I don't want to lead anyone on, especially not someone as nice as Gemma. She's not it for me. Knowing that means I don't walk her home. And I don't stay for another dance. I leave her there to enjoy the rest of the night with her friends while I go let a mutt out before that hairy beast climbs into my bed and curls up on top of my feet.

Not that I'm telling my sister about Shaka finding his way up onto my mattress at night. It's not like I want a dog in my bed. I just can't sleep with him whining some forlorn dog version of a sad song. He left me no choice.

I'm brushing my teeth, staring at myself in the bathroom mirror as if it holds the answers to life, when my phone vibrates on the counter, shaking me out of whatever thoughts I was having.

Mila's name and face flash on my screen—at 11:42 at night?

"Mila? Is everything okay?"

"Yes … No. Well. No. Not at all, actually. I called Jason, but he's not answering. The kitchen faucet was dripping on and off this week but the main problem is that hanging sprayer. It won't turn off unless I use the lever to redirect all the water to the faucet over the kitchen sink. So, that's what I do every time. I use the sprayer, then switch the lever. I kept planning to call you or Jason." Mila pauses and a gasp comes through the phone. Then I hear a soft thud when she sets the phone down and shouts. "Oh! Gosh! Hold on Kai!"

Shuffling and clunking noises fill the background. Then Mila's back on the line. "Sorry about that. I've just been up to my ears with new guests and a project for Noah's class … Anyway …" Mila blows out a long breath. "I was doing some batch cooking after everyone was in bed. I turned the sprayer on to wash the mixing bowls and baking sheets. And, well, the top of the sprayer popped loose. I was drenched in an instant. The kitchen floor is covered in water. It just started spraying everywhere!"

"Just now?"

"A few minutes ago. I'm so sorry. Were you asleep?"

"No. Not at all. I was …" Out dancing. "Just home getting ready to call it a night. I'm here alone with my sister's dog while they're on their trip. I'm coming right over. Turn off the water supply outside. You know where that is, right?"

"Yes. I shut it off already. But so much water already sprayed out of the sprayer. The kitchen is nearly a quarter of an inch deep right now. I've got a bucket and mop and towels thrown around everywhere." Mila sighs. "You don't have to come over. Just tell me what to do. Maybe you can walk me through it? I just have to turn the water back on before the morning for cooking and showers … Except … Oh! I don't know what I was thinking. My guests will need to flush toilets overnight. I don't want to have to have them relocate …"

Her voice trails off as if she's nearly forgotten I'm on the other end of the line.

"Mila, I'm already grabbing a shirt and heading your way."

"You didn't have a shirt on? Oh. Kai, I'm sorry. You were in bed, weren't you?"

"No. I was just brushing my teeth. Don't worry about me. I'm not the least bit tired." I balance the phone between my ear and my shoulder while I shuck my pj bottoms and grab my pants off the chair and throw them on. Then I pull a clean T-shirt off a hanger in my closet and slip it on while holding the phone just a few inches from my face.

"Out the door already. I'll see you in a few minutes."

"I don't know how to thank you, Kai. You're the best."

"That's what friends are for."

"Well, I don't deserve you, but I promise to make it up to you in baked goods."

"Now who's spoiled? I'd repipe your whole inn for free coffee cake and those savory tarts you make. I'm already on my bike. See you in fifteen."

Mila and I hang up and I stuff my phone in my back pocket. Then I pedal to get to her as quickly as I can.

I keep a set of tools at Mila's. Local contractors and handymen do jobs for her when she needs something more complex or time consuming. But they charge a lot, so I insist on her calling me for smaller jobs. Besides, we're friends. It's the least I can do to help her keep the inn running smoothly.

She pays me in home cooking and the occasional paycheck. I keep telling her I'd pitch in for free. I do other jobs for a few other North Shore residents. They all pay me. But they aren't single moms trying to run their own small businesses while raising a young boy. Mila's not a charity case. She's a good friend. And I treat her like ohana—family.

The night air refreshes me, blowing off the heavy, uncertain thoughts I've been batting around all night. Heading to Mila's Place gives me a sense of purpose. Helping other people always does— especially her.

I park my bike in the racks Mila has out front of the white picket fence surrounding the inn. Then I take the porch steps in two strides. Mila opens the door before I knock, looking slightly frazzled, but still beautiful. Her long brown hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun, strands hang loosely around the edges of her face in wet tendrils. She's wearing a vintage T-shirt and shorts. Her feet are bare.

While I felt nothing but a neutral appreciation for Gemma at the club, I can't help but notice the feeling I have whenever I see Mila. The same word always comes to mind: home. Mila is comfort, welcome, hospitality, and warmth. She's the type of person that makes others feel like everything will be alright. With merely a smile she sends me silent assurance that I'm doing just what I should and I don't need to change a thing about myself or my life.

Only, right now, her usual calm is tinged with an edge of distress. One I'm going to alleviate, because I can't stand to see her rattled. I can do something to ease that look on her face—and I will.

"Kai." The way she says my name is everything.

She's relieved—because I'm here. One word from her in that soft, trusting tone was all I needed to settle whatever was stirring around in my head and heart all night.

"I'm here. Let's fix your faucet."

I brush past Mila, the familiar smell of cinnamon and vanilla enveloping me for a moment.

"Don't worry. We'll get everything back to normal. Your guests will never even know this happened by the time breakfast rolls around."

"What would I ever do without you?"

The way she looks up at me makes me hope she never has to find out.