The airport in Kona had no Jetway. Passengers deplaned by walking down stairs or a ramp. Warm, humid air hit as Lainie strode down the ramp. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was different than the hot, dry air in Long Beach.
Her father had arranged for an Uber. The guy was waiting at the curb outside baggage claim, and soon they were on their way to Waikoloa. Thankfully, the driver was not chatty. Lainie did not feel like talking. The two-lane highway from the airport to the resort was uncrowded, and they moved along at a good speed. They soon arrived at the Hilton resort where Stan and Evie were staying.
In past trips to this island, Lainie had always enjoyed the view of the ocean on the left and the wild volcanic scenery. Dawn was breaking and today, she barely saw anything. She did notice that it was very windy. Every so often their sedan was jostled by a strong gust. When they turned into the resort, palm trees were bent under the wind’s force.
Stan met them in the lobby. It appeared as if he’d not gotten much sleep. Heavy stubble covered his chin, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. Still, he turned heads. Lainie could admit that Stan was a handsome man. A tad over six feet, he had a full head of sandy-brown hair and striking hazel eyes. He worked out and made use of tanning booths, so he was always an orangey-brown color.
To Lainie, he was a bright container. You were impressed by the outside, until you opened it up and saw that all it contained was grease and dust. Then you heard him speak, and it was like a corny infomercial,“and there’s more!”He primped like a vain movie star. All show and no go.
As he walked toward them today, it looked as if he’d slept in the clothes he wore. Lainie tried to generate sympathy for him, but she couldn’t. It was difficult not to blame him for losing Evie.
Why weren’t you swimming right next to her? Why didn’t you protect her?
While Stan connected with her father, Lainie let her gaze wander around the hotel lobby. The place was huge. It had a tram in the middle and a stream running through the massive ground floor. High-end boutiques rimmed the walkway.
This was their first real vacation in eight years of marriage. The job he held now was his first steady job in that time frame. He talked big but never lasted long anywhere. Used car salesman, real estate agent, day trader. He’d also tried his hand at YouTube channels. He talked about investing money on his last channel. Lainie couldn’t wrap her mind around that. She’d never seen Stan make a sound financial decision or investment.
Now he managed a car wash. As she thought about it, he’d been there about a year, his longest gig yet. How long would it last? At Christmas, Evie had said that with the car wash,“Stan has finally found his niche.”
If they had the money for this trip, maybe she was right.
Evie was the worship leader at church, and she was paid a small salary. The weeklong stay here must have cost big bucks. She tuned back into the conversation Stan and her father were having when she realized Stan was explaining why no one was searching today.
“The trades are up. It’s too windy for boats or helicopters.”
“When did they stop searching?” she asked.
“Yesterday afternoon, a few hours after I talked to you. That’s when the wind picked up.”
“I want you to show me the beach.”
“Now?” Stan stared at Lainie.
“Yes. Now.”
“Your bags?”
Lainie shot a glance at her father.
“I’ll take them up.” The sadness in his eyes cut Lainie.
“I need to see, Dad.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Lainie turned to Stan. “Let’s go.”
The walk to the beach took about twenty minutes. They exited the hotel lobby, followed the long, serpentine hotel driveway to the sidewalk, and then walked along the road that wound through the resort area. Large condos stood on either side, and occasionally they passed tourists or hotel workers. The Hawaiian name for the beach was Anaeho’omalu. Lainie had a hard time pronouncing it. Stan simply called it A-Bay. It was down the coast from the Hilton and behind the Marriott Hotel, and they crossed through its lobby, past the pool—the space was eerily empty as wind buffeted the area—and out to the sandy beach.
They spoke barely at all. The strong wind made it difficult to hear, plus Lainie didn’t really want to talk to Stan.
“Here we are,” he said, when they reached the sand. “They reopened the beach this morning since there were no more shark sightings.”
A few people strolled on the beach, a couple frolicked in the water, diehards, who probably had no other time to get to the water. Gusty wind swirled around them and every so often pelted Lainie with sand. Two catamarans were anchored in the bay, rolling with the swells and small whitecaps.
There was also a kiosk that rented kayaks and paddleboards, but it was closed. The boards and kayaks were securely tied down behind the kiosk.
Lainie started to walk down toward the water. “Where exactly?” she called out to Stan.
