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Buck & Mari

Page 95

by Reina Torres

Heath gestured for Kid and Arctic to follow them, and she tried to file their names away in her head so she wouldn’t call them something crazy.

As she stepped up to the gate, she heard someone behind her ask, “What kind of tree is this?”

Mari turned around to see who it was, Kid, the lanky, athletic young man was tall enough to reach up and hold one of the leaves between his fingers.

“I’ve seen these around, but…”

“Kid’s from Minnesota. I bet there’s a lot around here he doesn’t recognize.”

Kid lowered his hand, looking a little nervous.

“That’s a mango tree,” she explained. “Wait until it’s fruiting and I’ll bring you some.” Mari turned her head and poked Heath in the ribs. “Be nice. There’s a lot of stuff that I’m sure you don’t recognize, Mister Wisconsin.”

Heath shrugged and Mari continued.

“Besides, everyone in Hawaii loves Minnesota!”

She stepped away from Heath and linked arms with Kid, walking him down the path toward the party.

She heard Arctic saying something to Heath behind them, but she kept walking. “Is he always like that?”

Kid leaned closer. “Naw. Everyone jokes with everyone. I think it gets to me sometimes because they call me Kid.”

She nodded. “I can see that.” As they approached the party she stopped just under some of the party lights. “Everyone?”

The conversations quieted down and heads turned in her direction. “I’d like to introduce some friends to you.”

She saw Arctic step up beside Kid and she felt Heath’s hand settled on her waist.

Mari leaned over and caught Arctic’s attention. “Hold up your hand.”

Smiling, the blond man did what she asked. “Everyone, this is Arctic.”

Everyone waved and smiled.

Then she leaned her head on Heath’s shoulder. “This is Heath, but you can call him Buck.”

The group greeted him as well.

Finally she pointed at Kid beside her. “This is Kid, he’s from Minnesota.”

Everyone cheered!

She felt Heath lean back, stunned.

She turned her head toward Arctic and he was shaking his head.

Mari addressed the group who were now laughing and grinned.

Donna, Tiny’s wife, came over and introduced herself and handed Kid a plastic wrap wrapped musubi. “Here. Maybe you’ll feel more at home.”

Mari watched as Kid thanked Donna and then held it up to his nose and sniffed at it before he looked at her. “What’s this?”

Mari pointed at it. “That’s a Spam musubi.”

“Spam Mu…”

“Spam Musubi,” she repeated. “It’s sticky rice, dried seaweed, and spam. Donna makes the best musubi I’ve ever tasted.”