Chapter 9
If Kay hadn’t already left for her dinner-slash-date when I got back from the beach, I would have confronted her about the barbecue.
Or, well, at the very least asked why she hadn’t told me that the invitation had been addressed to both of us.
Instead, I took a shower, slipped into a comfy shorts-and-tank-top combo, and walked to Keanu’s, a nearby food truck that, according to Kay, made the best and freshest bowls around.
The long line suggested she was right. I walked up and used the time to go through my conversation with Laurie in my head again.
Vince had understood that things couldn’t go on like they were, she’d said.
The fact that he’d invited both Kay and me supported it.
Which was why Kay’s not mentioning it bothered me so much.
Not to mention declining. Because, in the end, that put me in a bad light, too, and, I’m not going to lie, that left me cold.
That fact alone made me want to go by later.
Just for a bit, of course. I wanted to be in bed on time.
And I wouldn’t eat anything, just have a drink.
The line began to move, and I caught a glimpse of the menu, which, indeed, consisted only of bowls.
I chose tuna and avocado and got it to go.
Back at home, I put the bowl in my lap, settled onto Kay’s sofa, and turned on the TV.
Sitting there, I drank close to half a liter of water and texted with my mom, who’d just woken up.
In Germany it was shortly after seven a.m. Suddenly I realized that I didn’t even know what time the barbecue would officially be getting started.
Laurie hadn’t given me a time. I didn’t want to be the first person there or the last. Suddenly uneasy, I put the bowl to the side and stepped out onto the terrace.
The sun was going down, painting a pattern of light and shade across the stone slabs and across my feet, which were at the outermost edge closest to the Greenfields’.
I tried to hear if anything was going on, but, aside from Kay’s pool pump and a few birds, didn’t notice a thing.
A light breeze brushed my hair. And all of a sudden, I heard something.
The sound of a guitar. Voices. Laughter.
Clearly some people were already there. In a good mood, I went back inside.
Half an hour later I left the house in a short, flowered dress and white canvas sneakers. Aside from a bit of mascara, I hadn’t put on any makeup, and I’d simply put my shaggy hair up into a messy bun. So as not to show up empty-handed, I’d pilfered a bottle of wine from Kay’s shelf.
It was less than a hundred meters to the Greenfields’ house, but it took me a while due to the lack of streetlights and the fact that there wasn’t any traditional kind of path. All the same, the moon was strong enough to help me avoid potholes and bumps along the way.
Unlike Kay’s, the property wasn’t separated from the street by a gate.
A few cars were parked on a path that led up to the house through a patch of grass.
Despite the sparse lighting, I noticed that the grass was nowhere near as trimmed as one might have expected in this area.
Two steps led up to a small, covered veranda.
A dim light burned above the door, on which five weathered wooden letters formed the word Ohana.
I discovered a bell without a nameplate and pressed it.
I was seized by a tinge of nervousness. Fiddling with a loose thread in my dress, I heard footsteps approaching on the other side of the door.
When it opened, I gasped. There in front of me wasn’t Laurie or Vince, but Griffin “Chip” Chipman, currently the most successful big-wave surfer in the world.
Last year, he’d landed in the Guinness World Records by surfing the biggest wave ever surfed.
Almost eighty-seven feet. I knew that because I was the one who had presented him with the Laureus World Sports Award.
An image of the award ceremony briefly flashed through my mind.
Me in a red evening dress, he in a tuxedo, his deep-brown hair gelled back.
Today he had it in a man bun, which suited him far better.
Just like the three-day beard and the fluttery shirt he was wearing with his shorts.
From his astonished look, I realized that he hadn’t expected me here any more than I’d expected him.
He called back over his shoulder, “What’s Louisa Herzog-Riggs doing at your front door? ”
Seriously? I asked with my eyes alone.
“Who?”
Definitely Vince’s voice and coming closer. Normally I would have been more uptight, but I was still busy trying to work out what Griffin Chipman was doing here.
“Louisa. Herzog. Riggs,” he repeated slowly, with a grin.
I wanted to say something, but suddenly Vince was there behind him. Seeing me, his eyes grew wide. But I couldn’t say if that had to do with surprise, confusion, or anger. Just that they were far too blue to ever get used to.
“You didn’t mention that you’d invited such prominent peeps,” Chip said, and even though I could feel my cheeks turning red, I enjoyed the confused look on Vince’s face.
“Oh! You don’t know who she is. This, my man,” he said, pointing at me, “is Louisa Herzog-Riggs.” He dug his phone out of his pocket, typed something, and held it in front of Vince’s nose.
Although Vince made every effort to appear disinterested, he stole a glance.
I would have loved to know which of the many photos circulating in the news Chip had chosen to show him.
“You all know each other?” Vince asked, frowning.
“She gave me an award.”
“Handed you an award,” I said, correcting him.
“We met at the Laureus Awards. I would’ve liked to have gotten to know her better afterward, but, strangely enough, the number she gave me was fake.”
“I must’ve gotten mixed up,” I replied, with the most innocent smile I could muster.
The amused look in Chip’s eyes told me that he found the whole thing funny.
“Wow,” Vince said with an enthusiasm that was impossible to cover up. At the exact same moment, Laurie appeared behind him in the hall. She was wearing a colorfully patterned maxi dress and had tied her hair in a ponytail that emphasized her bangs.
“Hey, there’s no more beer. Could you…?” Noticing me, she broke off and her face brightened. “Louisa! You came!”
“Yeah, man, your sister seems to know more about who you invited than you do,” Chip said dryly.
“You mean who she invited.”
Laurie raised her chin. “You agreed.”
“That was before her godmother torpedoed my barbecue.” For a fraction of a second, his eyes flickered toward me.
“What?!”
Laurie ignored my surprise and sighed. “You don’t know that for a fact.”
Looking for help, my eyes darted between Laurie and Vince. “What’s wrong?”
“Ask your godmother.”
Before I could react, he turned to Chip. “You wanna help me with the beer?”
But Chip looked like he’d rather grab a bag of popcorn and watch the show we were putting on. “My number’s still the same!” he called back to me before disappearing into the house with Vince.
Laurie knitted her brow. “What’s that all about?”
“Long story.”
“Which you can tell me when we drink this thing here.” She smiled and took the bottle of wine from my hands. “Come on in!” She made an inviting gesture, and part of me was willing to ignore the fragments I’d just heard. But my gut told me I wanted to know.
“What did Vince mean about my godmother torpedoing his barbecue?” I asked without taking another step.
Laurie hesitated. “Well, till now, not one of our neighbors has shown up and…Vince thinks that…your godmother’s behind it,” she mumbled, as if uncomfortable.
“What do you mean behind it?!” I asked, though I had a vague idea.
“He thinks she told them not to come.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. Maybe they’re just late.” I peered at my watch. “When did things officially kick off?”
“Six.”
That was almost two hours ago. I cast a glance over my shoulder. “Whose cars are those?”
“They belong to friends of Vince’s. He called them earlier to ask if they wanted to come over. What with all the food and everything.”
She lowered her voice and then her head, and it made my heart hurt a little.
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Vince is pretty bummed.”
“That’s understandable.”
Even though I didn’t think Kay had anything to do with it, I felt bad for him and Laurie.
“Well…” Laurie clapped. “I hope you’re hungry?”
I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that I’d already eaten. That nothing they had really fit my nutrition plan. I smiled instead and followed her silently into the house.
Stepping into the foyer, I was hit by a blast of warm air.
As opposed to Kay’s, they didn’t seem to have any AC.
Just a ceiling fan. The walls were covered in wood and painted turquoise with contrasting white baseboards.
Judging by the smell, it was a recent job.
And the wooden floor looked like it had been sanded recently too.
Instead of the classic reception desk, a shuttered window had been built into the wall.
The door to the right suggested an office.
On the left, the space merged into a hallway.
It looked bright, inviting, and comfortable.
“When’s the opening?”
“In two months. But it’ll be tight if Vince continues to insist on doing everything himself.”
“He’s doing everything himself?”
“Well, not everything. But he wants to keep as much of Jim’s as he can. To keep the Ohana going as he would have wanted it.” She added, “Jim was the old owner. We knew him super well.”
A sad expression scudded across her face, but before I could find the right words, she was moving again.
“How many people is there room for here?” I asked as we walked past doors leading off both sides of the hall.
She thought for a moment. “Two doubles and two quads, so…”
“Twelve.”