My Kind of Town
>> Ala Moana Park Gathering hormones
Grace Ah Sun should have been driving straight back to Queen's. But for one of the rare times in her life she chose to take a few moments for herself, to gather her thoughts and emotions.
Grace parked the Volvo near McCoy Pavilion, found a shaded bench along the beach promenade. It was amazing how many people were out in the middle of a work day sunbathing, jogging, skating, biking, swimming, surfing, flying kites, playing volleyball and tennis. Didn't anybody work any more? Well, with her boss Sen. Donovan Matsuda-Yee-Dela Cruz-Bishop-Kamaka in jail, Grace would be having more free time Mondays through Fridays. She was 53, and slowing down wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it?
While she was gathering her thoughts and emotions, she ought to gather her hormones too. It was if they lay dribbled all about after her lunch with the former president at the Hilton. Lunch was just one of their secrets. Which they sealed with a kiss. And then another. Secret kisses. Ah, the presidential seal.
Still aroused, Grace took out her cell phone, dialed her gynecologist Dr. Ginny O'Vare and asked in whispered tones -- although there was nobody within 20 feet -- if the doctor had a Viagra sample for her husband. Grace thanked her, said she'd stop by later.
Sheets would have to finish what the president started. It wasn't until she'd been tempted by the man from Arkansas that she realized how deeply she loved her husband. When her honor had been stolen and she'd been raped six weeks before their wedding day, for which she was pregnant, Sheets still married her and raised the girl as his own. Lily had no idea about her real father. And that was good.
Grace was so grateful, so devoted, so in love with Sheets, it was easy not to ask questions about whatever happened to Bobo. It had been 21 years since he was last heard from, a postcard from Miami to Dave Donnelly, saying that contrary to published reports he had not disappeared, but was alive and well. It was ironic, she had to admit, that Sheets was in Tampa about that time for a soap-makers convention. Whatever, Grace never wanted to see Bobo again.
>> Honolulu Soap Co.
Sheets Ah Sun's goal for the day was to clear his desk so that tomorrow he could fly to his son Laird's graduation from Stanford Business grad school without worrying about work details. He had enough to worry about with the investigation at a newly discovered illegal dumpsite in Waimanalo.
"Mr. Ah Sun," his secretary Lani Moon said from the doorway. "There's someone here to see you. A Detective Sherlock Gomes."
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com