03 - Three Odd Balls (4 page)

“You always think of such clever names,” Mother told me. “And it’s clever of you to try something tropical, what with us being in the tropics ourselves.”

“Tessie and I are picturing a King Kong theme,” Louise said.

“King Kong, King Kong.” Bee Bee liked the sound of that.

“But with no King Kong,” Mother elaborated.

“King Kong, King Kong.”

“So let me get this straight.” I scowled at the bird. “We have a King Kong theme, but with no King Kong?”

“Mm-hmm.” Mother nodded. “But of course, we should begin with Delta Touchette, who has just arrived in the South Pacific at the behest of her spinster aunt. Auntie Whoever owns a large estate on one of the islands. She has lived there, without the benefit of husband or family, for decades.”

“Delta has never actually met this Auntie person,” Louise continued, and Bee Bee hopped over to the arm of her lounge chair to hear more. “She has, however, corresponded with her for years. Much to the consternation of Delta’s frightfully conventional parents, Auntie Whoever is the girl’s role model.”

“Delta just adores her Auntie,” Mother agreed. “The adventurous life she leads, far from the confines of stuffy old England, has always intrigued her.” She jiggled the ice in her pink drink. “Delta has always dreamed of visiting her Auntie Whoever.”

“And let me guess,” I interrupted. “The last letter from Auntie,” I hesitated, “Auntie Eleanor—hinted at some sort of danger on the island?”

“Exactly, Honeybunch! How did you know?”

“King Kong,” I answered. “So Delta,” I sat up a bit and got into the groove, “yearning for adventure, left stuffy old England behind and embarked on a journey to the South Pacific. And at long last she arrived at the port of…the port of Mekipii Hui, on the island adjacent to Auntie Eleanor’s.”

I sipped my drink and contemplated Delta’s dilemma. “But she had a most difficult time finding someone to sail her over to… to Ebony Island—that’s her Auntie’s island. Alas, all of the local skippers refused to assist her. They were vague as to why, but the lovely and courageous Delta surmised they were afraid of Ebony Island. Indeed, she even overheard the word monster mentioned once or twice!”

My mother and my agent shook their heads. “Amazing,” they said in unison.

“Amazing,” Bee Bee echoed the sentiment.

“But Delta finally did find someone to take her?” Mother asked.

“Skylar Staggs, of course.” I glanced down at the Pele’s Melee in my hand. “These drinks are starting to grow on me,” I admitted.

Mother giggled. “They’re a bit stronger than the champagne you usually have.”

I cleared my throat. “Of course, there were instant sparks between Skylar and Delta on the journey over to her Auntie’s island. All was going well until a terrible, terrible gale kicked up. Oh, it was treacherous, indeed. Our lovers were barely able to keep Skylar’s boat afloat and were tussled about dreadfully.” I sighed dramatically. “They fell into each other’s arms just as the waters calmed. And of course, one thing has led to another.” I stopped and let the imaginations of my literary agent and most loyal fan fill in the blanks.

“So there’s your first sex scene!” Louise said.

“Sex scene!” Bee Bee shrieked, and Wilson and Davy glanced over.

“I write romance novels,” I told Davy.

“Hot and feisty?” he asked with yet another wink.

Mother tapped her chin. “I don’t believe Adelé Nightingale has ever put a love scene on the open water.”

Dare I say, Tessie was right? Considering how Adelé’s lovers had managed to get passionate in just about every corner of Europe, however unlikely the terrain, how could it be that not once had any of them made whoopee on the water?

“High time to rectify that!” I beckoned to Wilson. “More pink drinks, please,” I asked, and the three of us held up our woefully empty glasses.

“But, Jessica,” Louise said, “something has to happen to take Skylar away from Delta once they reach the shores of Ebony Island. Isn’t that right?”

“That’s the easy part,” I said. “Skylar has to get back to Diamond Island because he’s the only lawman of Port Mekipii Hui, and there’s a dastardly villain on the loose. Someone who’s taken to robbing every gold shipment right as it leaves port.” I sat back and watched Wilson and Davy flip-flop over. “Let’s make the bad guy a pirate-type, shall we?”

Mother said she’d always liked those pirate movies that are so popular.

“But the pirate is so charming and lovable in those movies,” I reminded her. “
My South Pacific Paramour
will have a truly evil pirate. And Skylar the hero? He’ll be a Tarzan-type.”

Poor Davy seemed a bit perplexed. He set down his tray and handed a drink to my mother. “I hate to burst your bubble,” he said as he handed me the next glass. “But I’m almost sure the South Pacific never had any gold.”

“Davy, Davy, Davy,” Louise scolded and reached for the third glass. “You simply do not understand the ins and outs of these things. If Adelé Nightingale,” she pointed to me, “says there was gold in the South Pacific, then there was gold in the South Pacific!”

“My stories aren’t exactly known for their factual detail,” I explained, and Wilson harrumphed.

“But now, we can’t get too fanciful,” I continued after a long and thoughtful sip. “The King Kong thing will need a convincing explanation.”

“King Kong thing?” the men asked and pulled up a couple chairs.

“Only rumors, of course.” I waved a dismissive hand. “But our evil pirate villain guy will want to capitalize on those rumors.”

“This is becoming a bit complicated, isn’t it?” Mother asked.

“And that,” Louise spoke to Davy, “is why Adelé Nightingale is a bestselling author. Her fans eat this stuff up!”

Wilson shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but what’s the evil pirate guy’s name?”

“Oh, Jessie!” Mother jumped. “Can I name your villain this time? Please let me try. I’m sure I can think of something good.”

“Those things should unlock your imagination.” Wilson pointed to Tessie’s glass, and I took a moment to calculate just how many hours my jetlagged, elderly mother had been sipping Pele’s Melees in the hot Hawaiian sun.

“How many of those have you had?” I asked her.

She removed the little gold umbrella and poked me in the arm with the tip of the tiny parasol. “I am of age, you know.”

I confiscated the gold parasol, but otherwise decided to not worry about it. I mean, how much trouble could Tessie get into, surrounded by family and friends, and staying at what had to be the sleepiest resort in all of Hawaii?

Chapter 4

“The Hoochie Coochie Brothers have arrived!” Buster reported as he seated us in the dining room that evening. “They’re unpacking, and then they promised to play!” He pointed to the small stage across the room and scurried away, still holding the menus he had forgotten to give us.

Wilson and I blinked at each other. “Hoochie Coochie?” we asked.

“Isn’t it exciting?” Mother said. “They’re ukulele players. Davy told Louise and me all about them while you were checking us in.” She reached over and patted Wilson’s hand. “Thank you for getting me and my things settled. You are such a darling.”

He blinked again. “Did you say ukulele?”

“Mm-hmm. Evidently they stay here every year for the annual Yuletide Ukulele Jamboree. This year’s the tenth anniversary. Can you imagine?”

I turned to Louise, who nodded ominously. “According to Davy, we’ll be hearing ukulele music all week. The Hoochie Coochies like to practice a lot.”

While I let that unsettling news sink in, my mother elaborated. “Well now, they’ll need to practice won’t they? What with the big competition on Christmas Eve.” She clapped in glee. “I’ve never been to a ukulele contest before. Won’t that be fun?”

Luckily, our waitress came by and saved us from answering. Young and enthusiastic, Bethany touted the dinner specials as she passed out menus. “The Wakilulani has a reputation for authentic Hawaiian cuisine,” she told us. “And our new chef Makaila Isiano? Wait ’til you see. She’s fantastic.”

“She must be fantastical,” Louise agreed. “Just look at all these people!”

I had to agree that the dining room of the Wakilulani was downright crowded. Buster was in the middle of the action, scurrying from table to table, pointing out the empty stage to one startled group of diners after another. He carried a stack of menus but was too excited about the Hoochie Coochie Brothers’ imminent appearance to actually distribute any of them.

Bethany shook her head. “You folks want something to drink while you decide?”

Bless his heart, Wilson suggested another round of pink drinks, and Bethany left to place our order with Davy, who now stood behind the dining room bar. He winked at me, or perhaps at my mother.

“He is quite handsome, isn’t he?” she said as she fluttered a few fingers in his direction.

“Too young for us, Tessie,” Louise said. “Not everyone has your daughter’s luck at these things.”

I rolled my eyes at Wilson. “Will I ever hear the end of the fact that you’re five years my junior?”

“Five? I thought it was closer to ten.” You guessed it—the ever-charming Christopher Rye had arrived. He smirked down at me and introduced his companion. “This is Emi Ulii,” he said. “Can she join us?”

“Of course she can,” several of us answered, and with a shuffling of chairs we added two more to our grouping. Wilson caught Davy’s eye from across the room and held up two fingers.

“The Pele Melees are quite tasty,” my mother assured Emi as everyone got introduced and situated.

“They sure are, Mrs. Hewitt.” Emi smiled at Mother and explained that Davy’s drinks were famous on Halo Beach. “I work down at the Cabana Banana, but our bartender can’t compete with the Pele’s Melees here. Davy keeps the recipe a deep dark secret.”

“Some men are like that,” I mumbled with a glance at Wilson.

“Are you a bartender, too?” Emi asked him.

“Dad’s a cop.” Chris frowned at me. “He doesn’t tell his secrets to just anyone.”

I thanked Chris for reminding me and was happy to see Bethany arrive with our beverages.

And Bethany? She was thrilled to meet Chris, but a bit less enthused by Emi’s presence. Clearly the two young women already knew each other. “Are you still working at Bananas?” Bethany asked her.

Emi sighed. “Yeah, but I’m not getting the hours I want. The manager’s kind of mad at me.”

“More time for surfing, then.” Chris flashed the Rye grin and looked up at Bethany. “I’m starving. What’s good?”

Everything, apparently. With a lot of help from Bethany and a little coaching from Emi, we placed our orders for exotic-sounding fish, fruit, and vegetable dishes, which were, in fact, as delicious as promised. We had made it to dessert, and Louise was quizzing Emi about the macadamia nut soufflé Bethany had just placed in front of her, when Buster leapt onto the stage.

“The Hoochie Coochie Brothers!” he announced, and forks dropped all around the dining room. “Hal and Cal Coochie!” He pointed a menu-laden arm in their direction, and the Hoochie Coochies took the stage amid polite, if not enthusiastic, applause.

For some reason I had expected short, young Hawaiian guys. But the brothers were even blonder than I, almost as old, and at least as tall as Wilson. Their size was altogether incongruous with the teeny-tiny instruments they held. They bowed to their audience, sang a little “Aloha” ditty, and then asked for requests.

Everyone seemed stumped for ideas until my mother stood up. “How about Christmas carols?” she suggested.

“Christmas carols it is!” Hal, or maybe it was Cal, exclaimed, and the brothers delved into an off-key rendition of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.”

When the Hoochie Coochies veered off onto a “Silver Bells” tangent, harmonizing about city sidewalks, Louise had a momentary spell of homesickness. “Ah, Manhattan,” she said. “I know it’s cold in December, but New York at Christmas is simply fantasti—”

“New York?” Emi interrupted. “Oh, my God! Are you from New York?” She blinked her big brown eyes at Louise. “I’m dying to see New York City someday! To live there, even! Take the subway to work, jog in Central Park, shop in Soho.” She looked at Chris. “It’s my dream for when I graduate.”

“And what a fantastical dream it is!” Louise agreed and commenced an involved and detailed monologue on the joys of living in New York, especially the joys of shopping in New York.

“When you get there, go straight to Soho,” she said. “It absolutely must, must, must be your first stop! The shoes? Oh, Babe!” She fanned herself with one of the little gold umbrellas that were accumulating on the table. “Beyond fantastical, I tell you! I myself could never live anywhere else. I mean, where would I shop?” Louise glanced around the table for alternatives, but none of us had any suggestions.

Wilson cleared his throat. “Speaking of shopping,” he said, and I looked up from my mango brulee. Surely the man had not consumed enough pink drinks to care about designer shoes?

“Is Shynomore Shirt Shop the best place to get more of these?” he asked Emi and tapped on his chest. “That’s what Buster says.”

The poor girl somehow managed to tear her thoughts away from Manhattan long enough to regard Wilson’s fuchsia-infused shirt. “Shynomore’s the place,” she said with only the slightest frown. “It’s just down the beach. It’s open twenty-four hours a day.”

“How convenient,” I mumbled as the Hoochie Coochie Brothers gave up on Christmas and commenced singing a song about coconuts. I tilted my head and double-checked. Yep. Coconuts.

Chris excused himself and Emi, and said he’d be walking her home.

“
My South Pacific Paramour
!” Louise exclaimed over the coconut chorus, and the whole restaurant turned to stare. Louise didn’t notice, however, since she was busy getting my mother to her feet. “We need to be plotting some more complications, Tessie!”

“Let’s put our thinking caps on and find a name for the pirate-villain person,” Mother suggested as they tottered off toward the bar.

Wilson and I watched in dismay.

“They’re great friends,” I explained. “Ever since I signed my first book contract, they’ve been conspiring on ways to land me more bestsellers.”