I smile slightly, amused by the twenty-five-year-old me. And then, catching my reflection in the mirror, I see how I’ve changed. The eyes have creases (crow’s-feet—I hate that word!), the eyelids are a little crepey, there are traces of lines near my mouth. It’s the me I’ve always known, just older.

The phone rings. Kai’s already here. I dash into clothes, a copper tank and a copper silk skirt with a fringe at the hem that swishes against my legs as I walk. I push gold bangles onto my arm, slick a little gloss over my lips, grab my purse, and go down to the lobby to meet him.

Kai takes me to a little Italian restaurant on the water near Honolulu, and it’s quaint and romantic with nets hanging on the walls and ceiling. Strings of lights and starfish and seashells run through the nets. We sit at a table on the patio, the table so small that our knees bump underneath. Tonight Kai’s wearing a great black linen shirt, and with his hair slicked back his eyes have never looked more blue. I love his sideburns, and that square jaw of his makes him look like a blue-eyed Elvis Presley. I love his fifties retro style. It’s sexy. He’s sexy.

Kai orders mai tais, and we sit with our drinks and wedges of pineapple and paper umbrellas and talk about anything and everything. Our salad comes and then the entrées of steak and seafood. I share my ahi with Kai, and he shares his filet mignon with me. I can hear music from the small dark bar, and with the twinkly lights and flickering candle on our table, the romance quotient couldn’t be any higher.

“Thank you,” I say as the singing waitstaff delivers a slice of macadamia-nut ice-cream pie to me with a little pink candle. The waiters leave and I lean forward, kiss Kai. “Thank you so much. You’ve made this the best birthday ever.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, but his expression is guarded as he reaches out to push hair back from my brow. “You should always be happy, Jackie.”

“I wish it were that easy.”

“It is. Just choose happiness.”

Back in my hotel room, we’ve left the sliding glass door and blinds open to let in the warm night and pale moonlight. Kai touches my face in the semidarkness; the caress of his fingertips down my cheek is slow and tender, half inspection, half comfort, and I think I’ve never been touched this way, have never been touched as if I’m so beautiful. But of course, that can’t be true.