“Sunscreening people?”
“Helping you. Afore you can help yourself, missy.” This time Mrs. OMG succeeded in yanking the tube away. After squirting sunscreen onto her palm, she slapped it onto his back with both hands, wasting no time on gentleness.
“There,” she announced, capping the sunscreen and handing it to Jefferson. “Yer on yer own for them wee hairy man nipples.”
Hildy choked on her can of Passion Orange juice. “Waxing is quick and easy, JJ. Well, it’s quick.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Might as well get one o’ them spray tans while you’re at it.” The housekeeper thumped him in the gut.
He was beginning to understand why Keoki had opted to stay home.
“Who needs a snack?” Lillibet asked, sparing him further commentary on his personal grooming. Maybe she thought he was beyond hope. That would explain why she seemed to be having a hard time looking in his direction. “We should get shave ice!”
“Aye,” the housekeeper agreed. “Reckonsomeoneneeds a cool down.”
Chapter 13
lovelillibetWhat are the simple pleasures that take you back to childhood? For me, it’s the delicate richness of lobster bisque, which we had for dinner on Saturday nights. Nothing makes me feel young again like dipping a sterling soup spoon into a vintage porcelain dish of creamy seafood goodness.
Love, Lillibet
Image: Hundreds of tiny crabs crawl across a sandy beach.
#homesweethome #islandlife #comfortfood #foreveryoung
“I couldn’t let you come all this way and not sample the most famous local delicacy,” Libby said when they joined the line outside the shave ice parlor Island nICE, as if bringing them here had been a selfless act of hostessing duty.
It was a relief to talk about something she understood, instead of faking her way through another lifestyle humblebrag. When it came to shave ice, Libby’s opinions were firm and backed by years of experience. Her guiding principle could be summed up as “yes.” Ice cream, azuki beans, sweetened condensed milk, mochi: yeses across the board. Jean tried to argue with her about flavor combinations but was hampered by an inability to pronounce most of them with her accent. Guava became guab-er and lilikoi picked up three or four new syllables before she managed to spit it out.
“Is this the place Obama likes?” Hildy asked, as they neared the register.
“The line’s even longer at that one,” Libby said as they shuffled forward a step. “We don’t go near it this time of year.”
“A charry leem man, he is,” Jean chimed in. There was a pause as they all worked out that she was sayingcherry limebefore she turned to Jefferson. “You strike me as more vanilla.”
“Not today. JJ needs to get something exotic, because I’m going with the house special. Always start with a baseline menu item. I learned that from one of our food critics. It’s like putting a racehorse through its paces. At an Italian restaurant, you order the lasagna first, to check how they handle the classics, and so on. Hence why I’ll get the tropical trio.” Hildy linked her arm through Jefferson’s. “And you can choose something different. As long as it’s awesome. Like melon. And lychee. Or pickled mango. With some of that li hing mui.”
“Anything else?”
“Just some extra mochi.”
“I live to serve,” he said dryly.
“Another reason we’re so perfect together.” She gazed up at him from under the brim of her hat, which was working overtime to hide her distinctive curls.
“Because you live to give orders?”
“Bingo, babe.”
Libby pretended to study a rack of postcards, sparing herself more of their cute coupleness. When Hildy insisted on paying for everyone, calling it a business expense, Libby didn’t argue, because (a) she was afraid her card would be declined, and (b) when she reached into her bag for her wallet, the first thing she found was a brochure for Invisalign. Mr. L must be trying to sweeten the pot. She shoved the glossy bribe to the bottom of her purse before summoning a (crooked) smile of thanks.
They found a bench outside, ignoring the sticky patches left by previous customers.
“Is this giving you flashbacks?” Hildy asked Jefferson, helping herself to some of his sunset-colored shave ice.
