Chapter 141

• You can't say that the waves of the Pacific Ocean lapped at a beach. The unbridled power of that vast body epitomized the term "force of nature." The water contained a foreboding, mysterious, uncontrollable, untameable quality every time it hammered against the rocks. Or the beach. It didn't matter if it was on a pristine, nearly deserted expanse in Hawaii. The Pacific Ocean answered to no one and nothing. It was an element unto itself.
• Yet as I sat underneath the covered terrace of our suite at the Four Seasons Maui in Wailea, even the Pacific seemed to put on a gentler mask. The waves roared with ferocity but somehow bowed to the serene and pastoral scene that lay below me. It was as close to lapping as Pacific waves had ever come, I convinced myself.
• "Where's Kat?" Jess asked as she carried two cups of French press coffee outside. She handed me one.