Free Whispers by Robin Jones Gunn Page A

wound up in a bun with several white and pink plumerias stuck in the side.
    “You want wait or sit?” the young woman asked in the choppy pidgin Teri had heard other locals use last summer.
    “I’ll sit,” Teri said, scanning the few early diners and not finding Mark among them. She was escorted to a booth at the back of the small eating area where she slid onto a thick wooden seat with a high back rest.
    “Coffee?”
    “Yes, please.” Teri looked over the menu while the woman returned with a fresh pot of Kona coffee. Closing her eyes, Teri drew in all the smells and sounds of this morning in Lahaina: the rich aroma of the coffee; the melodic clinking of the ships’ bells as they rocked in the harbor; and the mixed chirping and screeching of hundreds of birds who called the banyan tree across the street their home. Another scent drifted her way, the smell of bacon frying in the kitchen right behind her.
    Glancing at her watch, Teri decided to order since Mark seemed to be running late. She asked for eggs, bacon, and a short stack of macadamia nut pancakes with coconut syrup. The food arrived before Mark did, and she dove right in. Everything tasted perfect.
    She watched a short Japanese man stop along the sidewalk and lean over the wooden railing into the eating area to greet a friend. With no windows, everything was open, warm, and friendly.
    A tattered bamboo shade hung over one section of the opening to block the fierce morning sun. Teri remembered Mark telling her last year that
lahaina
meant “cruel sun.” Already, at a little past seven, the sun was hot.
    Mark finally arrived out of breath and slid into the seatacross from her. “I’m sorry. I was hung up on a phone call.” He glanced at her breakfast plate. “Did you try their macadamia nut pancakes?”
    “Yes, with coconut syrup. They’re so good!”
    Mark’s face softened in one of his close-lipped smiles as he looked at Teri. “Do you remember when we came here for breakfast last summer?”
    Teri nodded.
    “That was the first time I’d ever tried their mac cakes. I’ve been hooked ever since. And every time I order them, I think of you.”
    Teri hadn’t expected tender words from Mark. She had thought their meeting would be all cold, hard facts:
The thrill is gone; there’s nothing to hold on to; let’s just be friends
.
    Five minutes earlier she had been thinking about Scott and serving him tamales tomorrow night. How could she switch so quickly and think of Mark? She had to. He was finally sitting down with her. It was just the two of them, and they could talk.
    “I wish I had time to eat,” Mark said. “I had a message this morning from Claire. Did I tell you about Claire?”
    Teri braced herself. This was it, the other woman. This was why Mark had been aloof since her arrival. Claire.
    “Claire is my research partner. She said we have some papers I need to sign this morning so she can fax them today to D.C. It’s for an extension on one of our grants. The federal funding people are real sticklers for deadlines. The day’s half gone in D.C.” He glanced at his watch. “I hate to do this to you. I know you want to talk, and I do too. Can we set up another time?”
    Teri felt defeated. It shouldn’t be this hard to have a simple conversation. Maybe she was making too much of the whole thing with Mark. Anita could be right. She did tend to analyzethe romance out of relationships. It certainly had been analyzed out of this one.
    “You know what, Mark,” she said. “I don’t want this to be a long, drawn out powwow. I was under the impression when I came here that you and I might pick up where we had left off last summer. It doesn’t look as if that’s what is happening here. So let’s not make a big deal about trying to resolve our relationship. Let’s both just admit that it didn’t work out and get on with our lives. I’ll be around. If you have some free time and want to get together, great. If not, that’s fine too. Can