Sitting on the balcony of Chuck’s, I can see a red-and-yellow catamaran come in and surfers pass carrying their boards. Every night around six the breeze picks up, and tonight is no exception. The breeze is warm, and it flickers our votive candle and makes the torches lining Duke’s patio below leap.

Hawaii is so amazing. It’s like being in a foreign country, some place far away. I try to remember why Daniel and I stopped coming to Hawaii. Didn’t we have fun here? Didn’t we play?

And then I remember. Palm Springs. We bought the desert vacation house and locked ourselves into regular scheduled Palm Spring trips.

We should have never bought the vacation house. We should have never allowed ourselves to get into such a rut. Maybe making everything routine was the kiss of death. Maybe everything became so comfortable and familiar that we bored ourselves. Took the good things for granted. Took each other for granted.

As the waitress takes our order and leaves, Kai looks at me. “Jackie Laurens, Seattle designer, mother of two. What are you doing with me?”

“I don’t know.”

He laughs, pulls off his sunglasses. “I think you’re just trying to escape your real world.”

“Escape?”

“Girl, we live in different worlds. Have different values. I don’t like money. You do. I can’t stand being around fake people—”

“My friends aren’t fake.”

“I get the feeling your friends don’t like me.”

My mouth opens, closes. I’m not sure what to say. I finally manage to string some words together. “It’s not that they dislike you…”

“But they don’t approve. Surfer Kai’s a beach bum. Surfer Kai’s not good enough for you. Surfer Kai might be taking advantage of you. Am I right?”

I look down, at the table with the placemats and little votive candle. “Have you heard this before?”

“I come from a world like yours. My family’s a lot like your friends. Wealthy. Successful. They’ve got it made.”

“But…?”

“I don’t think they’re happy. They’ve got to work like dogs to pay the bills, pay for that three car garage, that big house on the beach, the private tuition for their kids. They’re always working, but do they ever see their families? How much time do they really have with their kids?” His jaw juts. “How much time did you and your husband spend with your kids?”

“We spent a lot.” I hesitate. “Yes, Daniel traveled for his job, but when he was home he was always doing something with the kids, coaching their sports, taking them places. He was a great dad.”

“Was he a great husband?”

“Initially.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did.”

“How can you not know?”

“People grow—change—over time. Goals change. Personalities change. I guess we changed, and we didn’t grow in the same direction.”