Page 13 of This Could be Love

When he began to bend my knee and fixed my lower leg beneath his arm, my eyes drifted back to his tattoo.

“Does it mean anything?”

He didn’t answer right away, and for a moment I feared having gone too far.

“It’s a Polynesian tattoo. The triangle represents a shark’s tooth. For my family’saumakua. It’s a kind of guardian spirit.”

“Your family’s guardian spirit is a shark?”

“Yes,” he said.

Gabe had increased the bend toward my upper thigh and for a second I couldn’t breathe.

“Have you ever seen one? A shark, I mean.”

He nodded. “A hammerhead. I was out surfing with my daughter. But that was a long time ago.”

“You’ve got a daughter?” I asked in surprise.

Kay had only mentioned a dead son.

“A stepdaughter. Millie. She’s a few years older than you. Lives with Julie in San Diego.”

I didn’t miss the fact that his voice had changed. Had grown sadder with every word.

“That shouldn’t stop you from going into the water though. Considerably more people lose their lives here due to falling coconuts than shark attacks.” He looked up. “No joke. Last year one nabbed a jogger on Sunset Beach.” Gabe took hold of my other leg. “So, stay by the water.” He winked. “You’ll get a better view of the surfers that way too.”

“Oh, the surfers!” I gasped a little too theatrically.

Gabe raised his eyebrows. Until that moment I’d been able to more or less successfully forget the unpleasant run-in with Vince Greenfield—or rather, both run-ins.

“Yesterday I happened to meet Kay’s neighbor.”

“Vince?”

“You know him?” I was so surprised that I moved to sit up, but Gabe gently indicated that we weren’t done yet.

“Since he was little. He was here every year on vacation with his folks. And his sister.”

“Laurie,” we both said simultaneously.

“They always used to stay at Old Jim’s. Jim Kamakahi.” A tinge of nostalgia had crept into his voice. “A legend among surfers around here. Won the Pipeline Masters multiple times.” I could tellby the sound of his voice that he was about to change the subject. “Anyway, Jim had a little bed-and-breakfast by Sunset Beach. The Ohana. That’s where the Greenfields went every year.”

“Ohana,” I mumbled reflectively, the name sounded vaguely familiar somehow.

“It’s Hawaiian for ‘family.’ You’ll run into it pretty often here on the island.” A knowing smile appeared on his lips. “They were really nice people.”

I needed a second to realize he was referring to Vince’s parents again.

“Our boys used to go surfing together pretty often. I even think Jim was the one who taught Vince. He was totally gaga for the Greenfield kids. He didn’t have any of his own that could inherit the house, you see.”

“He left the house to Laurie and Vince?” Things began to click. “That means”—I knitted my brow—“that Ohana is…”

“The house next to Kay’s.”

He shook my left knee and pressed it in the direction of my upper body.

“So, it was something like a hostel in the past already?”