“Can I get you anything, Laurel?” Walea evidently decided to keep mum on the subject of my brother and her sister.
When I declined her offer, she sashayed away, making me wonder if island parents taught their toddlers to wiggle their hips as soon as they learned to crawl.
Dave finally noticed Regan’s arrival. He broke off his conversation with Keiki, walked across the stage and down the steps, arriving at our table. He sat next to his wife and aimed a kiss at her cheek. He missed as she rebuffed him and turned to face me.
“How was the ceremony, Laurel?” Regan asked. “Was Liz happy with the location?”
“That small stone church you recommended was beautiful,” I said. “I can’t imagine a more perfect way for them to begin their life together than getting married in paradise.” My eyes veered to the happy couple who were having their picture taken against the backdrop of the lava rock setting.
Regan twisted her gold wedding band as her solemn eyes met mine. “Paradise can be rife with pitfalls.” She picked up her drink, seemingly intent on chugging the remainder.
Dave dropped his arm around his wife’s shoulders, but she shrugged him off.
“Sweetie,” he said, “you know you can’t handle alcohol.” He attempted to remove Regan’s glass. Their hands collided and the fruity concoction crashed to the floor. A red puddle oozed down the bamboo planking. It pooled under the slender, bare feet of Keiki, who was helping Walea clear the tables.
Keiki shot a look at Regan that I was unable to decipher, but she remained silent as she picked up the shards of glass. The youngest musician rushed to help her, but Dave brushed him aside and began to assist the dancer himself.
Regan muttered something under her breath, grabbed her straw tote and stood, her slight frame swaying slightly.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I followed her away from the table.
“I think I’ve had too little to eat and too much to drink.” Regan’s eyes welled with tears. “It’s been a grueling week, and I’d better go home before I say anything foolish to my husband.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
She shrugged. “You can try knocking some sense into your brother.”
I pointed at a grove of palm trees to the side of the open-air restaurant. “We’re a hard-headed family. Could take a coconut, or two, to do the trick.”
Her lips curled up in a weak smile. I was pleased my attempt at levity lightened her mood somewhat. I still found it difficult to accept anything was going on between Dave and the gorgeous dancer, but I wasn’t averse to stepping in and finding out.
It had been a few decades since this pigtailed tomboy tormented her big brother, but I felt confident I hadn’t lost my touch.
Chapter 3
Nothing beats sleeping in and enjoying a leisurely morning in a tropical setting. The bride’s interpretation of leisure, however, differed dramatically from mine. My definition does not include embarking on an early morning snorkel sail after a night of dining, drinking and general carousing. My head felt like a troupe of Tahitian dancers and drummers had moved in overnight. The proportion of rum to fruit juice in those mango daiquiris I’d swilled must be higher than I’d realized.
I shoved a pillow over my face as the cloying sound of “Tiny Bubbles” blasted from the radio. I rolled over to turn off the alarm when someone silenced it for me.
“Good morning, dear. Rise and shine.”
Ugh. It was bad enough sharing a room with my mother. Listening to her perky greeting was even more annoying than Don Ho’s bubbly wake-up call. My stomach roiled as I eased myself against the padded gold brocade headboard. “Why don’t you go ahead without me? I don’t think I’m up for a boat ride this morning.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “Liz will be crushed if you don’t join us. I’ve already ordered breakfast from room service. Nothing like some hearty oatmeal to keep you regular.”
I closed my eyes trying to decide at what age my mother would no longer be interested in facilitating my digestive system. I opened them and squinted at the woman in question. She was dressed in a pair of sea-foam capris and a floral shirt that accented her short feathery blonde hair. With silver sandals, a sea-green tote and matching visor, she looked ready to star in an AARP advertisement to vacation in Hawaii.
The odds of winning the lottery were higher than of me getting out of our morning excursion.
I pushed my rumpled but extremely soft sheets aside and stumbled into the capacious marble bathroom. The oversized Jacuzzi tub beckoned but, with only a half hour to spare, I quickly showered, did my make-up and finished the bowl of heart-healthy oatmeal, made slightly less nutritious with heaping tablespoons of brown sugar and golden raisins added to the contents.