Chapter 21
21
“ I thought we might need some brain food while we work.” Maileah brought out a pitcher of lemonade, a bowl of berries, and a plate of oatmeal raisin cookies she’d made with Junie’s help. She placed them on the outdoor table on her patio. “Help yourself.”
“I will, thanks.” He bit into one of the cookies.
She held her breath, waiting for his comment. It wasn’t a big deal, but she was proud of herself. No one had asked her to do this. Junie had shared her recipe and visited last night for moral support. Maileah had insisted that she make them herself, so Junie enjoyed a glass of wine and coached her.
“These are delicious,” he said, reaching for another. “Taste like the kind my mom used to make.”
“I used Junie’s recipe.”
“No kidding?” He looked at her in surprise. “But I thought you weren’t into cooking.”
She shrugged. “I know how to make a few things.” She didn’t want to dwell on that, and they had a lot of work to do. He’d insisted on coming over to help her obtain donations from participants for auctions, even though she’d initially resisted .
“I can call some fellow surfers for you,” he said. “It will be easier that way.”
“Then I’ll take care of the rest of the details.” She sat beside him and opened her laptop, enjoying the cozy setting with palm trees rustling in a light, balmy breeze.
She stole a glance at him and smiled. This sure beat an office building in Seattle with rain sluicing over the windows.
While Maileah worked on the auction description, Sailor sent texts to friends.
“Cool, I just heard back from Ari,” Sailor said. “He’s donating one of his hydrofoil boards for the auction.”
Maileah looked up, excited. Besides Sailor’s, this was the first commitment they’d received. “How many pieces is it in?”
Sailor laughed. “That one is barely used. He also has a jagged piece of a board broken on Pipeline. That wave is gnarly. He said he’ll sign those if buyers want.”
“I’m sure they will.” She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
Sailor beamed at the gesture. “That’s only the first. I have more to call.”
“You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“I have a pretty good idea,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. “Where will you store all these items until the event?”
“Good point. We can’t exactly pile donations in our living rooms.” Maileah chuckled, imagining her quaint cottage overrun with surfboards and memorabilia. “But I think I have a solution.”
She picked up her phone and called the Majestic. “This is Maileah Raines calling for Whitley.” While she waited, she added, “Plenty of room there.”
Whitley came on the line. After a brief conversation, she smiled and thanked him.
“Whitley agreed to store everything at the Majestic. Your friends can ship their items there ahead of time, addressed to him. ”
“Brilliant.” Sailor grinned, his eyes meeting hers. “You’re unstoppable. I like that about you.”
Maileah’s heart fluttered at the praise and how his gaze lingered on her.
They continued working together, and the hours flew by. The response was better than Maileah expected, and she was growing more excited about the event.
Later that afternoon, the sound of tires on gravel caught her attention.
She spotted Adrian pulling beside her car. “Your dad is here.” He had called earlier to ask if he could stop by.
Adrian stepped out of the car, guitar case in hand, his weathered face creased in a warm smile. “Hope I’m not interrupting,” he called out, striding toward them.
“Not at all,” Maileah said as they greeted each other. “How is the song going?”
“I finished it last night.” Adrian opened his guitar case. “I’m playing at Jo’s tonight, but I wanted you to hear it. This one really flowed.”
As Adrian removed his guitar from its case, Sailor scooted his chair closer to Maileah’s. He rested his arm over the back of her chair, his fingers lightly touching her shoulder.
A shiver of electricity coursed through her, and she leaned closer to him, enjoying the warmth between them.
Adrian settled into a chair, positioning the guitar on his lap. His fingers caressed the strings, coaxing a melody that captured the essence of the island. When he began to sing his soulful island ballad, Maileah was instantly transported.
Sailor’s attention was riveted on his father. The pride in his eyes touched her heart.
Adrian’s lyrics drew images of brave women and men, their spirits meshing with the power of the sea. He sang of voyagers and adventurers, of broken bones but unbroken spirits. His words conveyed a message of resilience, of rising to meet challenges and returning after injury, and of love and strength found in community .
While his words reflected the essence of Crown Island, Maileah thought it could have been anywhere—and for anyone who lived at one with nature.
As the song built to its crescendo, tears welled in her eyes. She noticed Sailor swipe a hand across his cheek, also overcome by the raw emotion in his father’s performance.
“And we will rise again, forever rising, my friend,” Adrian sang, softly ending the ballad.
As the final note lingered in the air, Maileah was still entranced. Sailor was so close she could feel the breath he expelled in awe.
“Dad, I hardly know what to say.” Sailor’s eyes glistened, and his voice was thick with emotion. “That’s incredible.”
Maileah nodded emphatically, wiping away her tears. “Adrian, it’s perfect. More than I could have ever hoped for. It captures everything we’re trying to do with this charity.”
Adrian smiled, clearly moved by their reaction. “I’m glad you like it. It came from my heart. It’s about all of us.”
At once, she realized Adrian’s song was also about his family and his love for them. Unbroken.
A sense of urgency raced through Maileah. “We need to record this.”
“My buddy has a recording studio at his house,” Adrian said.
“If you have time, I’d like to film this for marketing.” She glanced around the patio, frowning slightly. “Somewhere with more atmosphere, though. On the beach or a place with a view of the ocean.”
Adrian snapped his fingers. “I know just the spot. A cave ten minutes from here opens to the ocean, and the acoustics are amazing. We used to practice there when the tide was out.”
A spark of excitement sizzled through her. “Is the tide out this time of day?”
“That depends.” Sailor pulled out his phone to check. “The tides run on a lunar day, fifty minutes longer than our twenty-four hours. So high tide occurs every twelve hours and twenty-five minutes.” He looked up, grinning. “We’re in luck.”
“Let’s go,” Maileah said happily.
Sailor pocketed his phone. “I have a tripod in the Jeep you can use. We should go while we have the chance.”
Adrian placed his guitar in its case. “I’ll take my car so I can head straight to Cuppa Jo’s. I like to have dinner before I set up.”
As Maileah and Sailor crossed the street to his house and the Jeep, their hands brushed. He reached for hers, clasping it firmly.
“Is this okay?” he asked. “People will talk.”
She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “They already are, but I don’t mind.”
Pausing by the door, he brought her hand to his lips, grazing her knuckles with an expression that said everything.
Maileah could hardly move; he took her breath away.
“This is a good idea,” he said, opening the vehicle door for her.
She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she climbed in. Her heart was still pounding, though, from the song or Sailor, she couldn’t tell. Both, she figured, enjoying the chemistry building between them.
Sailor pulled away from his house and turned onto the winding coastal road. He rolled down the windows.
Maileah took a moment to enjoy the sea breeze in her hair and the magnetic presence of the man beside her. She felt incredibly lucky, yet she hardly dared to imagine how this relationship might develop.
When they arrived, Sailor tucked the tripod under his arm and gestured down the hillside toward a cave that yawned to the sea.
“Be careful,” he said, helping her from the vehicle.
Maileah twisted her hair in one hand, securing it against the breeze.
“Take my hand,” he said .
Following his sure-footed lead, she picked her way across this rocky part of the shoreline. The cry of seagulls overhead punctuated rhythmic waves that lapped farther out on the broadened beach.
Adrian perched on a boulder just inside the rocky cave tucked into the hillside. He strummed a chord and smiled. “The acoustics are still good.”
Knowing they didn’t have much time, Maileah quickly noted details. The craggy wall of the damp cave. Adrian’s weathered hands cradling his guitar, his silhouette dark against the deep blue expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Waves sparkling like diamonds under the sun.
“It’s perfect,” she said, eager to capture the moment.
Sailor set up the tripod. “I thought it would be. Another one of Crown Island’s many secrets.”
“Ready whenever you are,” Adrian said, strumming softly.
Maileah nodded, already envisioning how the video would look. She secured her phone and angled it to bring Adrian and the ocean into the frame.
“How’s this?” she asked, stepping back to show Sailor.
He leaned in close to examine the shot. “You have a good eye.”
Though heat crept up her neck at his proximity, she cleared her throat, determined to focus on the task.
She tapped the record button and motioned to Adrian to begin.
He closed his eyes, his fingers naturally finding their place on the strings.
While he played, Maileah noticed how the acoustics amplified and enriched every note. The distant waves provided a subtle, natural percussive rhythm that blended with Adrian’s melody.
When his voice joined the guitar, goosebumps rose on her arms. The lyrics of resilience and hope seemed even more poignant here, with the vast, mighty ocean as a backdrop. She glanced at Sailor and saw awe in his eyes .
“Our spirits soar, forever more,” Adrian sang.
Maileah became aware of movement on the beach behind them.
A small crowd had gathered, drawn by the music echoing from the cave. People stood in silence, as transfixed as Maileah was.
As the final note faded into the sound of the waves, a nearby bird trilled a response. The moment felt magical, suspended in time.
At last, Maileah turned off the recording, marveling at what she’d captured. Adrian was a true talent.
Sailor broke the spell first. “I think that’s your best song yet, Dad.”
“It’s truly magical, thank you,” Maileah said, struggling to put her gratitude into words. “This will mean so much to so many. I’ll edit and post it right away. I think it could go viral. If it does, the impact and exposure might be enormous.”
“That would be fine.” Adrian tucked his guitar into its case. “Use the song however you want. I wrote it for the charity, so any money it raises should go to the cause.”
“That could be very generous,” Maileah said.
Adrian slung an arm around Sailor. “The truth is, I have a vested interest. If Sailor is ever injured, he might need those medical services. Of course, we all hope not.”
“Hey, don’t curse me,” Sailor said, laughing.
A thought occurred to Maileah. “You should copyright this song.”
“Sailor handles all that online for me.” Adrian picked up his case. “I’d better head to the diner. Thanks for this, both of you.”
After Adrian left, the small crowd dispersed, leaving Maileah and Sailor alone.
Her mind brimmed with ideas. She turned to Sailor. “Do you realize what we have here? This song could be huge for the charity and your dad’s music career. Do you think he realizes that? ”
“He’s heard a lot of promises over the years.” Still, a slow smile spread across his face. “But this feels different. I’m stoked about it.”
Maileah was so excited she threw her arms around Sailor in a spontaneous hug.
Quickly, he embraced her, drawing her close.
This closeness felt so right to her. Yet she pulled back slightly, searching Sailor’s face for confirmation.
“Today was incredible,” he began, his voice low and husky. “Are you…ready…”
Her heart thudded in response. Was she? Holding her breath, she waited.
“Ready for… I mean, are you hungry?”
“Oh, my gosh.” She fell against him, giggling with relief.
“What’s so funny about that?” he asked, laughing along with her.
“Nothing,” she replied. “But yes, yes I am.”
Sailor ran a hand through his hair. “I know a good sushi place nearby. Want to go there?”
Maileah nodded, still laughing. “But first, I have an idea. Would you mind filming a quick video clip for me?”
Sailor raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”
“Just a short message asking people to listen to your dad’s new song. If we add it to the recording, it might help it gain traction online. You can sit on that same rock.”
“Sounds great.” Sailor ran a hair through his hair, leaving it sort of spiked—a good look for him. “Ready when you are.”
Maileah lifted her phone and started recording.
“Hi, I’m Sailor,” he began easily. “My dad wrote an awesome song to support a charity for injured surfers and athletes on Crown Island. He’s pretty good, even though he runs a bike shop and only plays locally. I’ve always thought he missed his true calling. Anyway, if you like it, please give it a thumbs-up and share it. Your support means a lot to the folks we’re trying to help, and it would surprise my dad, too. Take it easy, and mahalo . ”
Extending his thumb and little finger and folding the rest of his fingers, he wagged his hand in the friendly shaka sign rooted in a Hawaiian sugar mill accident a century ago. Surfers adopted the sign, too; it meant hang loose, gratitude, and goodwill.
“That’s a wrap,” Maileah said. “Natural and heartfelt.”
She sat next to him on the rock to show him the playback. The clip captured what she’d hoped—his genuine enthusiasm and sincere call to action.
“Oh, Sailor, it’s perfect.” She hugged him again, the movement feeling more natural each time.
Yet, tension had been building between them, and their embrace felt different this time. With her desire for him crystallizing, she leaned in, drawn by an irresistible force.
This time, she didn’t hesitate or second-guess. Her lips met Sailor’s in a kiss that thrilled her to her toes.
She hoped he felt the same.