Page 8 of A Daddy for Christmas 3: Nova

“It’s bullshit,” I declared. “Great in the moment but only lasting as long as it takes one of my clients to piss me off.”

“What do you do?”

“Mostly give private surf lessons and film tutorial videos covering a variety of surfing techniques. Kind of old school and all, but it’s worked this long. No reason to pivot and fuck up a good thing.”

“No, we wouldn’t want that. Were you born here?”

“Nope. I fell in love with it the same way you did, with a visit. I did my best to come back as often as I could, until one day I just decided not to go back.”

“And where is back?” He asked.

“Portsmouth, Virginia.”

“Damn, you came even further than I did.”

“It’s been a hell of a journey,” I said. “Have you ever tried it?”

“What? Surfing?”

“Yup.”

“I wish. But as far as I know, there are no wave pools in Minnesota.”

“Fair point. If you’re serious about wanting to learn, I could always give you some private lessons,” I offered.

“And would those private lessons offer additional opportunities to dine with the instructor?”

“I’m sure we can work something out.”

“I can’t keep my eyes off the sky,” Nova murmured. “It’s like a tourist brochure. Every sunset I’ve ever seen here has been utterly perfect, even when it was misting rain. I’ve never been anywhere else where the sun can be brightly shining in the middle of a downpour.”

“Maui’s just special that way.”

“It’s special in a lot of ways.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” I replied. “I was sold on this place a long time ago.”

“I already don’t want to go back,” he said. “A co-worker started blowing up my phone with questions before I’d boarded my first flight. I’d left the answers to every single text in the detailed notes I’d printed out for him and left on his desk. There were more messages after I landed. I refuse to even look at them. This is my first vacation in four years, and I don’t want to spend it worrying about deadlines and unhappy clients.”

“Clients, can’t live with ‘em, can’t eat without ‘em,” I remarked, sympathizing with the struggle.

It didn’t matter the industry; it was the same experience across the board. There were always going to be those clients that made the job feel fulfilling and others who made you wish you were in an entirely different field. Underground. Somewhere remote. Far, far away from people.

Each bite of food was deliciously seasoned, light on the salt, and heavy on flavors. The perfect complement to the slowly descending sun and my intriguing dining companion. There was weariness in his voice along with the frustration and outrage he’d expressed about his coworker.

“So, what are your plans for your time here?” I asked.

“To play it by ear,” Nova replied. “After today, I don’t want to plan anything else until after I get back home.”

“Think you’d be up for some snorkeling tomorrow? I’ve only got two clients in the morning; the rest of my day is free. We can meet back here, or I can pick you up. I’ve got gear.”

“Then I’ll bring lunch,” Nova offered. “I don’t mind walking down. I want to have my toes in the sand for as long as possible.”

“I don’t blame you,” I replied. “Okay, then we’ll meet up here around ten if that works for you.”

“I’ll be here.”

“The reef out there is phenomenal. You’ve snorkeled before, right?”