Sisterchicks Do the Hula Read Free

Roman Holiday around here and run away for a few days.”
    “So, if you don’t want to go to Italy and you both can’t come here, where do you want to go?”
    “Hawai’i.”
    In a carefully guarded corner of my heart, the original tiki torch that had flickered faithfully for almost two decades spiked into a flame. I didn’t let Laurie hear the blaze in my voice. “Hawai’i, huh?”
    “Yes, Hawai’i. Don’t you think it’s about time the two of us got our little hula hips over to the islands?” Laurie’s voice had definitely elevated. “Just the two of us, like we planned back in college. What do you think, Hope?”
    “I think …” A gust of reality all but extinguished the flame. I was the one with the balloon payment coming up on our mortgage and three teenage sons headed for college. Nothing woven into the fabric of my DNA had ever allowed me to say yes to spending a large chunk of money on myself. “I think I’ll have to think about it.”
    “I knew you’d say that. Don’t say no too quickly. Run it past your honey when he’s in a good mood, then call me back. Tell him you’re being kidnapped by a runaway princess and you’ll bring him back a case of macadamia nuts.”
    “Oh, yeah, that ought to win him right over.”
    “I’m serious about this, Hope. I really need something to look forward to. I need to go someplace where not one single person will ask me to do some favor for them because I supposedly have all this free time in my life now.”
    That afternoon I scuttled off to the video store like a dieter sneaking into the bakery aisle of the grocery store. I never took breaks during the day to watch TV or movies, but I rented
Roman Holiday
and watched it by myself. As the credits ran, Ithought,
Laurie is right. She needs to do this
. I
need to do this. We need to go to Hawai’i
.
    The next morning I called Laurie. “I have only one request. Could we rent scooters like Audrey Hepburn did and go darting about in the Honolulu traffic?”
    “I take it you’re warming up to the idea?”
    “Warmed, toasted, broiled, and fried. I’m all for it, Laurie.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes, very sure. I have all green lights on my end. Darren said we have enough frequent flyer points in his account to cash in for my round-trip airfare.”
    “So when do you want to go?”
    “I had an idea about that, too. Why don’t we go the end of January since our birthdays are only a few days apart? We’ll both be turning forty, you know.”
    “As if you need to remind me.”
    “Don’t you think it would be memorable to turn forty in Hawai’i?”
    “Hope, you are a genius. Should I start checking into hotels?”
    “I’m already ahead of you. Open your e-mail. I just sent you some options.”
    Before the day was over, we had booked our flights, selected our hotel room, and printed out a list of recommended restaurants in the greater Honolulu area. Twenty years earlier the plans required much more effort.
    We e-mailed and called each other frequently over the nextfew weeks. Laurie made me laugh. Every time she called she sounded like a jubilant nine-year-old planning her own surprise birthday party. The guest list for this party was limited to just the two of us, but the potential activities included horseback riding on the beach, snorkeling, sailing, taking a sunset dinner cruise, parasailing, lots of fruity tropical beverages with little umbrellas, and a big luau. Laurie was determined to celebrate our entrance to midlife with pineapple pizzazz.
    However, before our bags were packed, a little stowaway had quietly added her name to the guest list.

O n Thanksgiving Day, two months before our big birthday bash, Laurie called me as she and Gabe were driving to San Francisco.
    “I’m trying to picture your home right now,” she said. “Tell me if this is right. The dining room table is set with your grandmother’s china, you’ve plopped an iced cranberry in each crystal goblet, and a garland of