“Aunty Ina,” Kekoa replied as they took her hand briefly and gave it the barest squeeze. “You made the shrimp kelaguen that I absolutely could not get enough of.”
“I’m also immune and a hugger if you have no objection to them.”
“Not in the slightest,” they said as they opened their arms.
“Welcome to the family,” she said as they embraced, amusement in her voice, no doubt over them remembering both her name and her dish.
“Thank you,” Kekoa said as they stepped back from each other.
“Have you heard the news?” she asked as she finally turned back my way.
“We haven’t even had the radio on today,” I explained. “We’ve been so busy talking and planning a surprise for Lani. We had to wait for him to leave to set up for his next event before we were able to get started, so we made some of our decisions on the fly, which probably isn’t the safest way to shop.”
She giggled and shook her head at us. “I hope your wallets are insured, and speaking of insurance, I hope the folks at the Glittering Palm had their premiums paid up because that place went up in flames last night.”
“Oh, whoa, has anyone said what happened?” I asked.
“Right now it’s anyone’s guess,” she replied. “Probably something electrical. That place has been here since we were stationed on the island. Always very popular too, even back then.”
“Did anyone get hurt? Kekoa asked.
“Minor injuries and smoke inhalation from what I’ve heard. They said it was packed, but that quick thinking by one of the DJs allowed everyone to get out before the roof collapsed.”
“Isn’t that place a little on the fancy side?” I muttered.
“My point exactly,” she said. “A fancy place with fancy clientele who probably have lawyers on retainer. It wouldn’t shock me to learn that someone has already threatened to file a lawsuit. They’d better hope the investigation absolves them of blame, or I doubt it will be rebuilt, which is a shame. Your mom and I had a captain who loved to take our team out to celebrate there. I always loved rubbing elbows with the brass.”
“If I remember correctly, she always wished you didn’t because it led to you two winding up with some interesting assignments,” I said, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Oops, look at the time. I’ve got to get going. It was nice to finally have the chance to meet you properly. Kekoa, I hope you two plan to get up to something interesting with all that garland. It’s not just meant for hanging on trees and walls.”
And with that she was gone, weaving around people until she disappeared down an aisle.
“Well, that was interesting,” Kekoa said, grinning.
“You’ll get used to it,” I warned. “It happens whenever any of the elders find themselves a hair’s breadth away from talking about anything even remotely classified.”
“Oh, I get it,” Kekoa said. “Mom always just went with the ‘I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you’jokes, which got old by the time I was a teenager. Sometimes it felt like there was a huge chunk of her life that I wasn’t able to be a part of, which sucked. The stories she did tell were always entertaining, but even then I felt like there were pieces missing, like she was redacting sections as she told it.”
“The curse of being part of a military family,” I said. “My dad has a bunch he can’t share either, and you’re right, there are times when it does suck. I thought when I got older the whole 'I can’t talk about it'line would change, but there are times when Dad and Mr. Pepsi will be talking about something and I’ll walk in and the whole conversation will just shift directions, leaving me to wonder what I missed. It’s hard when I share everything with him.”
“Everything?”
“I don’t get into all the sordid details, but he’s the one I go to for advice, and whenever anything big happens in my life, like meeting you, he’s the first one I call.”
“I can see where that can make it hard, knowing there are things he can’t share even if he wanted to, though I suppose that all parents keep secrets from their kids, even when they’re grown.”
“True. I just wish it didn’t have to be that way.”
“Or you could think of it as a blessing,” they said. “I always thought my parents were cooler than superheroes. I wouldn’thave wanted to learn something about one of them that changed my opinion, even as an adult.”
The way they said it, especially the part about being superheroes, took me back to my childhood and the way I’d firmly believed there wasn’t anything they couldn’t do. Maybe they were right. Maybe there was no harm in not knowing. Maybe there were even things my folks couldn’t tell each other. I’d never even considered that. Things heard couldn’t be unheard, so until someone invented a form of brain bleach that didn’t kill off brain cells, maybe it was time to curb my incessant curiosity and busy myself with decorations and my mates.
“Any thoughts on what we should pick up for dinner?” Kekoa asked once we’d paid for our purchases and loaded the Jeep.
“The Panglao Pub”
“Panglao, that’s a food, right? I know I’ve heard that word before.”
