At a large table by the window, April, Ella, Deb, and Junie were finishing lunch. They’d shared avocado burgers, two orders of sweet potato fries, and one slice of chocolate cream pie that all four of them had sworn they would only taste.
“Sit with us for a minute and tell us how your campaign is going,” April said, patting the chair beside her. “You never sit.”
“She can’t,” Ella said, straight-backed as a duchess with her bangles clicking on the tabletop. “This one’s been on her feet since she bought the place. If she sits down now, she’ll fall asleep, and then who’ll pour the coffee?”
“You know I heard that,” Jo said.
Ella smiled sweetly. “You were meant to, dear. Now, if you won’t sit with us, at least tell us how your campaign is going.”
“Every day it climbs a little higher. It’s exciting, and I’m getting everything ready to order and ship soon.”
Jo had met with a banker who was helping her arrange a short-term working capital loan based on her crowd-funded revenue. That way, Jo could begin ordering what she needed to fulfill the campaign rewards for backers. Thanks to Rocky, she knew how to approach the bank with the financial statements he had set up for her, which she could run whenever she wanted.
“I can hardly wait to receive my Jam Session box,” Deb said as she sipped her iced passionfruit tea.
“That’s my favorite one,” Junie said, stealing the last fry. “I’ll check the campaign stats now.” She picked up her phone.
“I just did,” Jo said.
“A lot can change in a few minutes,” Junie said. “I like to see it, too.”
While she waited, Jo glanced around the diner to see if anyone needed help, but everyone looked engaged and happy.
At the counter, Hank had his reading glasses on the end of his nose, squinting at his phone as he did most afternoons while he nursed his coffee and caught up on island gossip.
“Well, would you look at that,” he announced loudly. “Our local boy won his heat. Sailor Marino, right here on the sports news.”
“We heard, Hank,” Junie called over. “Yesterday.”
“We’re all very proud,” Ella added.
April beamed. “Maileah called us right after it happened. She said he came out of that wave like he was shot from a cannon.”
“Uh-huh.” Hank scrolled. His eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. “Well, then. I suppose you all know he got married, too.”
The table went silent. So did the rest of the diner.
April blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Says right here.” Hank held the phone at arm’s length and read it slowly, enjoying himself. “Champion surfer Sailor Marino and Maileah Raines wed in Tahiti following his win. It has pictures and everything.” He looked up over his glasses. “Did you folks know they were planning to elope?”
April’s hands flew to her cheeks. Ella’s eyes went wide. Deb whipped her head around.
And Junie covered a smile with her hand.
“Junie Raines,” April said. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“Not for sure,” Junie said. “But I suspected.”
April shook her head in amazement. “How?”
“She asked me a very suspicious question about marriage licenses a couple of months ago,” Junie said, laughing. “That’s all I’m saying. We all know Maileah is our wild child. She does whatever she wants.”
Candy already had the remote in her hand and was flicking through channels on the TV over the counter. The sports channel had it. Sun-bright footage from another island half a world away, and there they were.
“Turn it up,” Jo said, growing excited for Maileah.
Everyone moved closer.
