“Do you mean go out somewhere to eat?” Sierra wanted to be sure she understood him correctly.
“Yes. I need to make up for the way I flaked on you for dinner last night.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“What do you think? As soon as I’m done here, we can go.”
“Sure.” She looked at the clock. “Do you think you and Derek would like a snack before then?”
“I wouldn’t mind. Thanks, Sierra.”
She pulled a variety of potential ingredients out of the fridge and used her creative energy to whip up some deviled eggs and a chopped salad with lettuce, olives, oranges, and carrots.
Derek and Jordan made the food disappear in minutes. Derek went out on the front patio to call Mindy while Jordan kept at his project. Sierra cleaned up the kitchen and then retreated to the bedroom where she closed the door all but a crack and stretched out on her bed.
A familiar melancholy covered her like a thin blanket. Outside the evening sounds of the geckos eclipsed the constant chatter of the tropical birds. Sierra felt this semisweet sadness every time she started to feel at home somewhere in Brazil. She would put down roots, and then something would change and she would have to move again. It didn’t seem logical that she should feel that same way about being at a beach house with these guys she had just met.
Yet being in the kitchen, being in the rhythm of everyday living with them, felt strangely normal. It was as if this was what she was supposed to do, and these were the people she was supposed to be doing life with. It made no sense.
Sierra prompted herself not to analyze any of her feelings. After all, they were only feelings, and she knew how unreliable they could be.
Drifting off for a short nap, Sierra hoped the sense of bliss she had experienced that afternoon would return when she awoke. She wanted to enjoy her time with Jordan that evening and not think about what was next.
When Sierra awoke, it was dark. The ocean waves’ constant thunder was the only sound she heard. Getting up, she opened the door, expecting to see Jordan still at the table, working on his laptop.
But Jordan wasn’t there. The only light came from under the hood over the stove.
Sierra squinted as she tried to read the clock on the microwave. It was still flashing all eights since it hadn’t been reset after the power outage. She turned on a light and went over to Jordan’s laptop since it was the only place she could think of to find the correct time. When she lifted the top, the screen lit up, and she saw that her mermaid photo was back as his screen saver. That made her smile.
10:47 was the time on Jordan’s computer.
How did I sleep that long?
Sierra didn’t remember hearing a thing. If Jordan had tried to wake her to go to dinner, she hadn’t heard him. She didn’t think she had moved once. Now that she was awake, she wasn’t sure what to do. Had the guys gone to dinner without her? Were they still out? She knew that Mariana hadn’t returned.
Opening the front door, Sierra padded outside under the gently swaying palm trees. By the pale blue light coming from over the neighbor’s garage, Sierra could see that Jordan’s car was there. The guys were probably asleep. She still couldn’t believe how deeply she had slept. She had to admit it was the best rest she had experienced since she had arrived.
The cool night air felt good as she wrapped her arms around her middle and looked up at the sky. Above her a half moon, looking like a surfboard wedged in the sand, jutted up from behind a silver cloud. It wasn’t golden as she would have expected a Hawaiian moon to be. This midnight moon had a pale ivory tone and seemed far away.
Sierra kept her face to the heavens and whispered a prayer. This time the prayer wasn’t about herself and her future. Her prayer was for Mariana and her protection.
Padding back inside, Sierra went hunting in the fridge for something to eat. She saw a pizza box and discovered two remaining slices of takeout pepperoni pizza. It had been a long time since she had eaten cold American pizza. The guys wouldn’t mind if she ate their leftovers, would they? They had no idea what a big treat this was for her.
The first bite was in Sierra’s mouth and she was enjoying all the old familiar flavors along with memories of high school days and her favorite breakfast after Friday family pizza night, when she heard a cell phone buzz.
From behind the closed door of the guys’ room she heard Jordan’s groggy voice. “Hello?”
She swallowed the bite of pizza and listened, hoping this wasn’t an emergency call about Derek’s wife.
“Yeah, she’s here. Where are you? Are you okay?”
Sierra heard footsteps as Jordan stumbled out of bed. The door opened, and he squinted in the light that Sierra had turned on over the counter. Jordan looked up, surprised to see Sierra standing there.
“Mariana, she’s right here.” He handed the phone to Sierra, clearly concerned.
“Mariana, are you okay?”
“Sierra.” Mariana’s voice came out low and raspy through the phone. She said only three words, but they were weighted with deep fear. “I need help.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jordan was bummed that he had missed the deadline to send the photos to Bill. He had missed it by only five minutes, but still, in this competitive business, five minutes provided enough of a wedge for an amateur to slide in and win the vote for what would be displayed on the website’s home page. Jordan knew he would have to step things up if he wanted to maintain his position. He never expected this much pressure when he agreed to the assignment. He loved capturing memorable moments in photos, but he didn’t love feeling as if he had to continually compete for his position. It was the nature of the business, and he knew that and knew he was in no position to complain. He was living his dream.
Derek had stretched out on the lounge chair on the patio and was zoning out after his call to Mindy. Jordan guessed that Sierra had fallen asleep as well, based on how quiet things were after she went to her room.
Jordan made his way to the shower, hoping he still had a clean shirt to wear. He grabbed one of his least crumpled T-shirts and a pair of shorts and knocked softly on the closed bathroom door. When no reply came, he opened it and entered. The adjoining door on the other side of the bathroom opened to the room where Sierra was.
Carefully reaching to close the door, Jordan caught a glimpse of Sierra asleep on the bed. The fading peach-colored light from the sunset illuminated the room, providing a natural spotlight to hundreds of floating dust particles in the air. They seemed like tiny dancers sprinkling her with broken bits of dreams. He wondered if that was what life had been like for her. That was what he had picked up from what she had shared about her time in Brazil.
Jordan knew he should look away and close the door, but he felt captivated. Sierra’s back was to him, and her wild, blond curls cascaded over her shoulder like the foliage he had photographed on the sea cliffs on Maui. Her slim legs and bare feet curved gracefully across the bedspread, reminding him once again of a mermaid.
Jordan knew it would be too invasive to take a picture of her, but he wished he could capture her lovely position. The light would be this soft for only another few moments. If he set the aperture right, he might even catch the dust particles as they floated above her.
He quietly closed the door and took his shower, trying to think about something other than Sierra. It was difficult.
Jordan figured he had made enough noise with the water running in the shower to awaken Sierra so that once he was out of the shower and dressed they could go to dinner. He was surprised to find that she wasn’t in the kitchen when he emerged. Derek was still asleep in the lounge chair on the patio. He stirred, though, when Jordan opened the screen door and went outside.
“What’s the plan?” Derek asked.
“I think Sierra still is asleep. She didn’t come out here, did she?”
“No. Are you going to wake her?”
Jordan debated. “No. I think I’ll pick up a pizza and a few
things at the grocery store. We can all eat here. I’ll take her to dinner tomorrow night.”
Derek turned in the lounge chair and seemed to be trying to get a good look at Jordan’s face. He lowered his voice. “So what do you think?”
“What do I think about what?”
Derek gave him a smirk. “Come on, Jordan. You haven’t said a thing about what you think about her.” He emphasized the “her” and pointed toward the bedroom with his thumb.
“Her, huh? Is that what I should start calling her? The Great ‘Her.’”
“You’re not ready to make a declaration about her. Interesting. I know you. You’ll avoid the topic as long as you can. To honor your cold feet, I won’t ask again. You can tell me what you want, when you want.”
“Cold feet? I just met her.”
“So?”
“So, she lives in Brazil.”
“That’s why they invented e-mail, Skype, and airplanes.”
Jordan shook his head. “The timing isn’t right.”
Derek nodded.
“It’s too bad.” Jordan rubbed his hair with the palm of his hand, sending the last drops of water from his shower into the air. “She’s pretty amazing.”
“And gorgeous.”
Jordan gave Derek a surprised look. “You’re married, dude.”
“I still have eyes.” Derek leaned back in the chair and folded his hands behind his neck. “And so do a whole lot of other guys. You should have heard what they were saying about her on the beach today.”
Jordan pulled a lawn chair around to face Derek. The light had faded so Jordan had difficulty making out Derek’s expression. He wanted to make sure his friend wasn’t trying to play a prank on him the way Mariana had. Derek was known for his practical jokes, and Jordan wanted to be certain this wasn’t one of them.
“Some of the other surfers asked who she was when they saw that she was down at the water.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I said she was from Brazil. There’s a big group here from Brazil. You know their homeboy won The Eddie last time it ran. It’s a big change from a couple of decades ago when the locals smashed up the boards of the Brazilian surfers and sent ’em home. They exacted their revenge in the best way.”
Jordan wasn’t interested in surfing history at the moment. He was more concerned with what Derek had told the guys about Sierra. “You didn’t tell them her name or where she was staying, did you?”
“Look at you, going all Homeland Security.” Derek laughed. “Why should it matter what I told them? You haven’t made your move on her. From what it sounds like, you don’t plan to, either.”
Jordan rubbed the back of his head, feeling frustrated with the direction this conversation was going. He didn’t know how to respond. True, he did feel irked that other guys were asking about Sierra. She was too good for them. But Derek was right. Jordan hadn’t indicated to Sierra that he wanted to pursue anything with her.
Derek was watching Jordan, and Jordan could feel his gaze even though he was looking down.
“Wow.” Derek swung his legs over the side of the lounge chair and stood up. “I hadn’t expected this. You got it bad, bro.”
“What? For her?”
“No. For your career. You have the dream by the tail, and you’re not letting go for anything or anyone.”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“I don’t know, man. We’ll see how it goes. It’s not over till it’s over, right?” The light coming from the kitchen caught the side of Derek’s face, illuminating his expression so that Jordan could see that he was serious.
“Right,” Jordan agreed.
Derek headed for the screen door and stopped before he went inside. “But then, when it’s over, I’m tellin’ ya, the only thing that’s going to matter is who’s going to be there waiting for you at the end of the dream.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Sierra looked at the clock on the dashboard of her rental car. It was 11:53. She had been driving around the same city block in Waikiki for ten minutes. If Mariana didn’t show up in the next few minutes on the sidewalk where she said she would be, Sierra was calling the police. That was what Jordan had told her to do, and that was what she was going to do.
In the wake of Mariana’s late-night SOS call, Jordan and Sierra had made some quick decisions. One of those decisions Sierra regretted. She had insisted that she go to Waikiki by herself to pick up Mariana. Now she wished she had agreed when he had pushed to come with her.
“I can handle this, Jordan.” Sierra had tried to sound as forceful as she could. “I’ve managed to take care of myself all these years in the barrios of Brazil. I think I can handle driving to Waikiki to pick up my irresponsible friend.”
Jordan had backed down, which she appreciated. But his response to her was much more firm than she expected. “Fine. Go. No one is questioning your strength and independence here, Sierra. You don’t have to prove anything, you know. No one is passing out gold stars for your good works and bravery.”
She remembered the way his jaw flinched in the light of the kitchen. Then he added, “I can’t stop you. So I’m not going to try. But here, take my cell phone. And if you have any problems, call the police immediately. I’m serious. Call the police.”
“All right. I will.” She had marched out the door, as if she were sure of what she was doing. Now, once again, she wished Jordan were with her.
Sierra slowly made the turn on Kalakaua Avenue and stayed in the lane close to the curb. After being on the North Shore and navigating Kamehameha Highway with ease, the contrast she discovered when she entered Waikiki was unnerving. Buses, cars, and trucks all jockeyed for position on the wide multi-lane boulevard. Tall buildings rose on either side of the street, and even though it was midnight, masses of people were strolling past high-end shops, restaurants, and entrances to hotel lobbies. This felt nothing like the five-star hotel she had stayed in on Maui. Nothing about this main drag in Waikiki felt like any of the other places she had been to on the two islands.
Sierra had her windows rolled down as she scanned the hundreds of people on the sidewalk and went as slowly as she could so that Mariana could spot her. The traffic fumes, humidity, and heat were getting to her so she turned on the air conditioner, just to breathe.
One more time around, Mariana. That’s it. Then I’m calling the police.
Clutching the steering wheel, Sierra felt her anger rise again, as it had ever since she had put Jordan’s phone to her ear and Mariana said, “I need help. Can you come get me?”
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“Tianna met a guy, and she wants to stay with him. We brought her car, and I don’t have a way back. I’m not going to stay here. These aren’t respectable guys. I’m so sorry to do this to you, Sierra, but I need you to come get me.”
Sierra had jumped into fix-it mode. She grabbed a pen and wrote down the restaurant’s name and address where Mariana said she was. Sierra called her twice as she was driving to get to Honolulu by the most direct route. From there, the GPS on Jordan’s phone had directed her into downtown Waikiki where she was now circling the block. Sierra had called Mariana one more time since entering the Waikiki area, and all Mariana said was, “My battery is almost gone on my phone so listen. Don’t park. Just drive by the address I gave you, and I’ll come out and jump in the car.”
Taking a chance that she might squeeze in one more call before Mariana’s battery went dead, she had tried the number again about five minutes ago. No answer.
And no Mariana on the curb waiting.
Sierra inched her way around one of the thirty-story-high hotels and one of the many ABC stores she noticed along the way. She turned the air conditioner to the highest setting as she waited at what felt like an extremely long light that she had waited at multiple times. Drumming her thumbs on the steering wheel, she waited, she tried to pray, tried not to panic, tried to think through what to do next.
All
that she could think of was Jordan’s statement that nobody was giving out gold stars for good works and bravery. That really got to her. His comments about her independence and stubbornness weren’t new. She had heard those descriptors many times. But the gold stars made it seem as if she were trying to prove something.
So what am I trying to prove?
She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that question, and she definitely didn’t want to know it now. Nudging her rental car to make the turn back onto Kalakakua Avenue, Sierra was about to pass the restaurant one more time. She drove slowly behind the truck ahead of her and continued to glance out the open passenger window. She thought she saw a raised hand in the crowd and slowed down to almost a stop.
The car behind her honked, but Sierra stayed where she was, trying to get a good look. She called out, “Mariana!”
From out of the crush of pedestrians, Mariana emerged with a tall guy right beside her.
What is she doing? I’m not giving a ride to that guy, no matter who he is.
Mariana pointed toward the crosswalk at the light. Sierra scooted ahead and stopped at the red light. The driver of the car behind her wasn’t happy that he missed his chance to go through this time around. Mariana hurried to the car with the guy lumbering along behind her.
Mariana opened the door, but instead of leaping in, she leaned in, and with a tight expression on her face, she said in an overly enthusiastic voice, “This is Beau. He’s from North Carolina.”
Sierra couldn’t believe Mariana was standing there, making introductions. Sierra ignored Beau and let out all her frustrations, yelling, “What are you doing?! Mariana, are you insane?”
Beau reared back as he heard Sierra’s aggressive snarl. Just then the light turned green, and Mariana made a lightning-fast entry into the passenger’s seat, slammed the door shut, locked the door, rolled up the window, and yelled, “Go!”
Sierra hit the gas, drove through the light, and made the same turn she had made five times that night.