Coffee with God
Elaine Rivera
C
It was the second day there, and I had been up since
5:00 am, watching the surfers paddle out to catch the early tide,
the morning joggers make their passes up and down the beach,
and the torches being snuffed out at the next door. The sun was
beginning to rise over the mountain, and downtown Honolulu was
illuminated with soft shades of pink, lavender, and orange.
I moved carelessly about our room as I got dressed. They
needed to wake up anyway.
room to see what the plans were for the day.
in her terry cloth robe.
down the beach,” my dad said as he kissed us each on the cheek.
He was sporting Hawaiian print swim shorts, and still managed to
look the least touristy of us all.
“I just made coffee,” my mom said, raising a mug.
I sat with her on the balcony. Their room overlooked the
be said.
“Mhmm,” I mumbled as I sipped my coffee. A damp breeze
brushed my legs.
“Is everybody still asleep?”
or anything.” I knew she sensed my disdain for their lack of
enthusiasm.
We basked in the morning light, immersed ourselves in the
complimentary Kona, and watched my dad jog along the beach. An
hour or so later, I stumbled back to our room to wake everybody
up.
the door 30 minutes ago,” I said.
glared at me, rolled over, and pulled the covers over her head. I
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