Page 39 of Talk Story

“Dang, woman, I go to work, and all the good stuff happens,” Keone said. “This story will get better over beer and Thai food, trust me.”

“Does Elle know about this impromptu double date?” I was already shrugging into a slim-fitting sundress; it was a date, after all, and I wasn’t going to need to bring my weapon or chase anyone.

Hopefully.

“I may have already texted her,” he said. “She said yes. Within forty seconds. I timed it.”

“Are you trying to set those two up?” I tugged on my strappy sandals.

“Keen sense of the obvious, Trouble.” I heard the smile in his voice.

“I’m on board. They’d be great for each other. Elle can be serious, but loves to have fun . . .”

“And Pali’s nothing but serious, and needs to have fun,” Keone finished. We chuckled.

“Speaking of a little fun . . .” My voice trailed off. I wasn’t quite ready to tell him about Aunt Fae’s cast being off, and all that might mean.

“Plan to spend the night at my place,” he said quickly. “I’ll make sure you have a good time.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” I purred, echoing his words from the other night.

The four of us met at the Thai place in Hana, a little hole-in-the-wall with six tables, a chalkboard menu, and no cell signal.

Elle showed up in her event planner work clothes from the Hotel Hana: dark green fitted pantsuit, her long hair in a practical braid, a name tag above her left breast. She stood uncertainly in the doorway of the casual place, undoing the name tag and glancing around—until Pali stood up from the table and approached her. Elle spotted him, too, and her shy demeanor disappeared as she crossed the restaurant with the slinky confidence she’d brought to the valley switchback trail. She gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “Nice to see you again, Pali,” I heard her say.

He murmured something too quiet to hear and then guided her toward our table with a hand in the middle of her slender back.

Keone squeezed my hand under the table; so far, matchmaking was going well.

We ordered one each of the dishes on the simple menu to share between four people—a decision Keone made unilaterally but which turned out great. Pad Thai, green curry, a fish special and rich mango salad that tasted perfectly tropical—all of it made for a meal where the food is good enough that conversation happens around it.

Elle told more of her personal story once Pali had told his; she had dry delivery describing her sideways move from the Armed Forces to event planning. Her escape from “a family where our dad named us everything from Navy to Garbanzo Beane” was hilarious.

Later in the meal, Pali and Elle discovered similar opinions on the use of hiking poles on Hawaiian trails, as well as activism for their pet causes. Pali told a story about a permit objection that had been denied four times and then, on the fifth, had been cited approvingly by the reviewing officer as “exactly the detailed community engagement we want to see.” Same guy doing the denying, different day. “I think I wore him down.”

Elle laughed while we shook our heads.

Finally, Keone turned to me. “Maybe you’d like to catch the rest of us up on recent events on the case? I hear there’s been a lot going on.”

The story of the confrontation at Pearl’s and the takedown of David Santos did, indeed, improve with a retelling; I was able to add relevant details like the way Madison Chang’s nails matched with her pearl-handled derringer and her frosty lipstick. The way the sound of the door cannon almost knocked Pua and me off our chairs during the warehouse break-in, and the way Santos had curled up under the desk in the warehouse office.

By the time the check came, Pali and Elle were talking about a native reforestation project on Haleakalā with the focused attention of two people who had discovered a shared interest (and are using it as a safe place to direct energy that is not entirely about the subject at hand.)

When Keone suggested they might want to volunteer together, they agreed with alacrity and exchanged their phone numbers. Keone and I could hardly suppress grins and high fives.

Outside on the sidewalk, under a sky sparkling with stars, we said goodnight. Pali and Elle walked toward the parking lot in the same direction, talking. Not touching but walking with the closeness that’s a precursor to more.

“Good call,” I told Keone.

“I have my moments,” he said. He put his arm around me. We walked back to our cars in the warm night.

The trade winds were working through the ironwood trees behind the little town, and frogs were doing their evening opera. Miles away, Awawakapu was quiet in the dark, its walls holding history, its cave entrance hidden behind fallen boulders—and someday, the stone panels would be back in their places.

Or so I hoped.

12

I woke to the sound of the sea and the smell of Kona coffee. For a moment I didn’t move at all but lay there in the soft gray light with the trade winds breathing through the screens. I shut my eyes and let myself be exactly where I was, fully occupying this moment.