Read Online Shimura Trouble by Sujata Massey - Free Book Online Page B

while I waited for my latte, feeling the sweat cooling against my almost-bare back. It had been a wonderful run, largely because of the absence of traffic. The only car I’d had to watch out for had been a speeding Mercedes driving through Kainani, and I’d just let it pass.
    On this, my second full day on the island, I felt myself falling into a routine. At the coffee shop I’d exchanged the shaka sign with Kainoa when I’d walked in; he’d grinned but remained in leisurely conversation with customers lounging on the lanai. While I waited for my coffee order to be made by a young, bleached-blond Asian surfer boy, I ambled around the shop, looking at the various things for sale. In addition to surfboards and macadamia nuts, there was a clothing section selling Hawaii-themed T-shirts, sarongs, board shorts and swimwear.
    “You plan to swim home?”
    I jumped at the sound of Kainoa’s voice. He was right behind me, with a paper cup in one hand. “Here’s your latte. I had Joe make it with a double shot, no extra charge.”
    “Thanks.” I saw his eyes go to the small crocheted bikini in my hand. “Don’t tell me you’ve got nuns in a convent going blind making these?”
    Kainoa laughed. “My cousin Leila crochets them, hanging out in her backyard while the kids play. They sell here and on the beach at Haleiwa, where of course the price is twenty per cent higher.”
    “Cute, but a bit too young for me.” I put the bikini down, glad that my three-year-old Speedo was still serviceable. “So, where’s Charisse?”
    “Didn’t show up.” Kainoa shrugged. “Second morning this week it’s happened. If she gets in, I’m going to have her give the espresso machine a good cleaning—I can’t handle this place all on my own, you know? And about the bikini, just take it home, yah? Forget your age, which is what, twenty-six?”
    “Thirty. You’re a very good salesman,” I said, smiling despite myself.
    “It’s not the only thing I’m good at.” His eyes held mine for a moment. “What are you doing tonight? I’m going over to a club on the North Shore, nice little hangout where Jack Johnson used to play. I hear he’s back on the island, which means he might even stop in and jam.”
    “What a nice invitation.” I paused, thinking how I could rebuff him without causing offense. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go. Family obligations.”
    “You got kids?” His thick eyebrows rose.
    “No, but I’m caring for my father. He had a stroke recently, so I’m working on his physical therapy and diet every day, and I don’t like to leave him alone at night.” I’d poured it on a little heavy, but I didn’t want Kainoa to ask me out for another night. “My morning run is the one thing I do for myself, and I treasure it.”
    Kainoa followed me over to the bar, where I decided to use a squeeze bottle of local honey instead of my usual sugar. He said, “All right then, I can take a hint. So how you getting along with your Hawaii relatives? Is your uncle still chasing waterfront property dreams?”
    “He is—and no matter how lolo or annoying he may be, I’m sympathetic. So many Japanese-Americans lost property during the war. There are heartbreaking stories throughout California, where I grew up.”
    “Hawaii’s totally different,” Kainoa said. “People here weren’t put in the camps. Nobody stole their land—”
    “That’s not exactly true. If you look at the whole chain of islands in Hawaii, about twenty thousand were taken to camps on the mainland. In our case, Uncle Yosh worked at the post office, so he was accused of reading classified military mail.”
    “Yosh Shimura—you talking ’bout the old buggah who raises koi? I didn’t know he was interned.”
    “Yes, he’s the one.” I took a sip of coffee. “Hey, this latte is perfect. Maybe it was the double shot.”
    “I’d think you would have ruined it with the honey you added,” Kainoa said.
    “It’s my new habit; I’m trying to cut