My Kind of Town
>> Hilton Hawaiian Village The Honolulu Soap Co.:
Sunday digestA Secret Service guy straight out of "Men In Black" met Grace Ah Sun in the lobby of the Hilton and led her up to the Presidential Suite, Grace wishing she'd known this morning that she would be lunching with the former president. She'd have worn something different, and a different perfume.
Grace didn't know what was wrong with her. She'd been having meetings with powerful men for most of her career and she'd never been so worried about her attire, much less how she smelled. But there was something about the man from Arkansas.
And there he was, standing taller than she'd remembered.
"Grace, it's so good to see you again," he said in that soft drawl, took her hand, kissed her cheek. His breath was warm on her skin, and pleasant.
"I'm honored by your invitation, Mr. President," she said. "And it's nice to see you again."
He led her inside, to where a table had already been set up on the lanai, plates covered with silver domes. Grace noted a tall, thin bottle of white wine. She wasn't much of a drinker, but when the president offered she had to say yes.
"So how's your boss?"
Grace told the president how Donovan had been arrested just that morning on drug charges.
"Ouch. Well, guess I won't be stumping for him."
"I'm afraid this looks awfully bad for the Democrats."
"There's no such thing as a bad Democrat, Grace. Some of us are just better than others," he said with a wink and a soft chuckle.
And then over smoked salmon and chilled potato soup appetizers, the president launched into why he'd invited her. He was forming an advisory board comprised strictly of women, one from each state, hand-picked by him. He wanted input, so to speak, for a book with the working title "What Women Want."
"I can recommend several women you'll want to consider," she said, thinking Bronster, Ikeda, Hanabusa and whoever lost the governor's race.
"I've already found her, Grace. My question is, will you accept the invitation?"
"M-me?" she stammered. "You want me?"
"Yes, I do," he said. The way he said it, Grace thought it was a good thing a waiter appeared with their entrees.
>> Queen's Medical Center
Amazing, Lily Ah Sun thought as her younger brother Laird and their long-lost cousin Quinn caught up, how much they looked alike, and even more how much their voices resonated harmony. No question they were related, sons of brothers, more similar than she and Laird. For a passing moment it gave Lily pause -- reminded her of the webbed-toe consequences of limiting the gene pool to first cousins. Which she intended to do with Quinn.
For the past hour they'd been poring over a stack of photocopies from the State Library newspaper archives, all relating to the Ah Sun clan. Quinn, the HPD solo bike officer laid up with a gunshot wound to the thigh, was seeing this information for the first time.
"Seems to me that we need to know more about this mysterious Bobo Ah Sun," he said. "And why our parents never spoke of him."
>> Hilton Hawaiian Village
Grace Ah Sun was nervous, scared, aroused. The Riesling was cool, tart, sweet. The former president was hypnotizing: the soft drawl, the easy smile, the invitation in his eyes. So Grace wasn't counting how much she drank. But when they'd finished lunch on the Presidential Suite lanai, the bottle was empty and Grace had done her share.
"Grace, I want to address every issue, big and small, for the women you know. I want to find commonalities -- what do women all across American share in common? But I also expect to find differences -- regional, religious, age. And I want to find solutions."
"There are so many talented women in Hawaii. If you don't mind my asking, why me?"
"Grace, I have to admit, you've stayed in my mind since the first time I met you." Nearly eight years ago.
The president stood, motioned for Grace to join him at the railing. "You're intelligent, but you have common sense. You're accustomed to the halls of power, but you're a people person. You're a wife and mother with a career. You're a Hawaiian with a world view. I respect you and, if you don't mind my saying so, I just enjoy your company."
And suddenly he was touching her shoulder, and her chin, lifting it, his lips coming down to meet her's, his hands exploring. And Grace let herself be kissed, blaming it at first on the wine, but quickly deciding she didn't need an excuse, and kissed him back.
"... a wife and a mother ..." the words echoed, and Grace suddenly thought of her husband. What was it about this man that made it so easy to forget her vows and what Sheets had done when her honor had been stolen. She looked up into his eyes. "Mr. President, not be impertinent, but how many of the other women on your board have you slept with?"
"Well, that all depends on your definition of slept."
"How about the Yiddish term, schtupped?"
He laughed. "Grace, that's why I like you! Nobody else in the world would say dare say anything like that to me."
He kissed her again, and somehow she managed to pull away.
>> 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. He had enough to worry about with the investigation at a newly discovered illegal dumpsite in Waimanalo.
"Mr. Ah Sun," his secretary said from the doorway. "There's someone here to see you. A Detective Sherlock Gomes."
>> Hilton Hawaiian Village
The former president wasn't so gallant as he was patient. There would be another day, another opportunity. So as Grace Ah Sun freshened her lipstick, he watched admiringly.
"I'm sorry, Mr. President."
"No excuses necessary. And I told you, it's Bill now."
Calling this great man Bill didn't seem any more right than cheating on Sheets. "When we were talking, you reminded me that I'm a wife and, well ..."
Grace paused, on the precipice of her deepest secret. "... years ago my husband showed me love in a way that most men never would."
Grace had never told anyone her secret. But this lunch meeting was a secret. And their kisses must remain secret. So the one person in the world to whom she could unburden her secret was the ex-president.
"I want you to know because I was so tempted there a moment ago with you. But way back when, six weeks before my wedding I was raped by my husband's cousin. I got pregnant, but he married me and raised that child as his own. As far as she knows, he is her real father. I just can't forget that kind of love. I hope you understand."
"You're right, Grace, you are a fortunate woman, but to my mind it's your husband who's the lucky one."
Riding the elevator down to the lobby, Grace Ah Sun knew she'd done the right thing. But part of her wished she hadn't.
Don Chapman is the editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily, with a synopsis on Sunday.
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