Fawn put her hands on her hips. “You need some exercise, an outlet for the stress. Go get your swimsuit.”
When Fawn had that stubborn expression on her face, there was no getting around her. “You win.” Annie hurried to her room and grabbed her suit and equipment from a box labeled “swim gear.” She changed and pulled on her swimsuit. The scars on her foot were still an angry red, and she rubbed them with some pure lanolin Fawn had given her. At least her reef shoes covered half of the scars.
Being around Fawn always lifted Annie’s spirits. She joined Fawn in the living room. “I can’t stay out long,” she told her friend. “I’ll need to get dinner started in another hour or so.”
“What are we having? And I’m up for Scrabble afterward.” Fawn’s expression was innocent.
Annie grinned. “More therapy? I’ll take it. Scrabble sounds good. I’ve got to be sharp for the tournament next month.”
“You and your Scrabble.” Fawn shook her head and followed Annie out the back door. Annie whistled for Wilson, and he came running toward them full speed ahead. He loved to swim. She grabbed the surfboard propped against the back wall of the house. They trod the path made of crushed lava rock down to the water. The property ended in a small black-sand beach. Annie shed her coverup, put on her mask, and walked toward the water carrying her fins. She waded into the waves and slipped them on. Wilson plunged in behind her.
Fawn donned her fins and dove into the waves. She came up sputtering. “Hey, there’s a bunch of honu out here today!” she shouted, referring to the Hawaiian green sea turtles.
Annie joined her, and her tension began to dissipate as she watched Wilson chase the schools of brightly colored tang, butterfly fish, and unicorn fish. She slowly swam alongside a huge honu that turned to stare at her before rolling over and diving deeper. The waves were good today. She called Wilson, and he swam to her. Tossing her fins and mask to Fawn, she helped him onto the surfboard, then paddled out to the break. A perfect wave came, and she caught it. With her toes hanging off the end of the board and Wilson between her feet, it was a perfect ride.
Breathless and elated, Annie flopped onto her back on the board. The warmth of the late-afternoon sun touched her face. Out here there were no worries, no problems. As she turned, she caught sight of a figure on shore. Mano. She glanced around for Fawn, but her friend had already seen him.
“Let’s go talk to him. I haven’t seen the yummy Mano Oana in ages.” The two swam to shore.
“Is anything wrong?” Annie called. She stayed in the water as Fawn hurried to the shore and grabbed her beach coverup.
Mano shook his head, then stepped to the water with Annie’s coverup in his hand. He held it out, and she had no choice but to rise from the water and go toward him. She slipped her arms in and buttoned it up. If only she could cover her feet too. But maybe he wouldn’t notice.
She tried not to limp as she walked, but thinking about it made her limp more pronounced. Mano’s gaze sank to her feet. She saw his eyes widen as he spotted the angry red scars. “What happened to your foot?” Wilson came out of the water, shook himself, and draped his body around her ankle.
Annie’s gaze connected with Fawn. Fawn nodded slightly as if to encourage her. “Just an accident on the job,” Annie said.
“Let me see.” Mano knelt at her feet and took hold of her ankle. Wilson growled a warning but didn’t try to snap at him.
She didn’t want him to see, but the warmth of his fingers paralyzed her. She heard him whistle low.
“That must have been some accident. It looks like burn scars.”
“A lava bench gave way, and she stepped in hot lava,” Fawn said. She shut up when Annie frowned at her.
Mano got to his feet and stared into her face. “It takes guts to keep working after something like that.”
She wanted to confess that she’d been a pretty poor employee since the accident, but she clamped her mouth shut. She couldn’t bear to spoil the admiration in his face. “It was pretty painful,” was all she could say.
“No wonder you’re so worried about Leilani. First your mother and then your accident . . .” His voice trailed away, and he glanced down at her foot. “I missed seeing that bright nail polish.” His voice was amused.
She didn’t want to talk about her mother or anything else, least of all her shame at the scars on her feet. She turned and found her reef shoes where Fawn had tossed them, then hastily bent and slipped them back on. “What are you doing back already? Did you find out something?”
“You left your purse in my car.” He pointed to her purse where he’d left it by a rock. “I thought you might need it.”
“Mahalo.” She wanted to hold onto her anger with him. Lack of conflict made her vulnerable.