Read Here Today, Gone to Maui for Free Online

empty coffee cup and the birds for about a half hour longer than I really wanted to. I liked the idea of Jimmy coming back to an empty condo and maybe even missing me for a minute or two.
    Instead, one look at the parking lot told me that Jimmy was still out, so I wasn’t surprised to find the condo exactly as I had left it. After a brief, familiar pang—one part panic to two parts sadness with a dash of resignation—I relaxed.
    At home I worried that every time I saw Jimmy might be the last. It’s not anything he did or said. On the contrary, he usually left me with a kiss and a casual “I’ll call you later.” That’s assuming he was awake. With our different work schedules, I often left him sleeping. (“I’m the boss,” he said. “I can be late if I want to.”) At first, I’d searched for a note when I got home. Now I knew that Jimmy does not leave notes.
    But here in Hawaii, I reminded myself, I had nothing to worry about. Jimmy would not disappear. Where could he possibly go?
    It was almost lunchtime in California. I sat on the rumpled bed and called my office.
    “Jane!” Lena said. “Shouldn’t you be on the beach or something?”
    “It’s early here,” I said.
    “Oh, yeah, that’s right! So, you and Jimmy should be getting all hot and sweaty right about now.”
    “We’ve got to come up for air sometime.” I forced a laugh. “Did anyone buy muffins?” I asked, changing the subject.
    “Oh, no—ya know what we did? Manny—he’s in production? He lives in LaHabra, and he stopped off at Boston Donuts on his way to work. That’s down on Imperial. I had a jelly-filled one. You ever try one of those?”
    “Yes,” I said.
    “Manny got all kinds—jelly-filled, cream-filled, chocolate, glazed. Everybody was like, ‘Oh, cool—donuts!’ So, no offense, everyone really likes your muffins and all, but people are really liking the donuts, and Manny said he can pick them up every Friday, as long as he can get money from petty cash to pay for them.”
    “So, you don’t . . . people don’t want my muffins?”
    “It’s not that! People love your muffins, your muffins are awesome. It’s just that people are really liking the donuts. But you can still bring in muffins, if you want. Maybe we could have both. I just thought it might be nice for you to have a break, is all. I know you’re, like, really busy with Jimmy, and all.”
    “Oh, yeah.” I looked around the empty room. “Jimmy keeps me busy, all right. Speaking of which, I’d better go soon. Can you put me through to Mr. Wills?”
    “Morning, Jane,” he said. “We sure missed your muffins today.” Since Mr. Wills suffered from high cholesterol, I always offered low-fat alternatives. He was especially fond of my apple-oatmeal scones. “Are you having a nice vacation?” he asked.
    “Oh, it’s great,” I said. “Just thought I should check in.”
    He made his little humming noise. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your vacation,” he said finally. “But I just put together some target numbers for the sales force, and I’d love to get your input. Does your hotel have a business center? I could e-mail you . . .”
    “Sure,” I said. “I’ll get it back to you by tomorrow.” Maui Hi didn’t have hair dryers, much less a business center, but there had to be an Internet café around here someplace.
     
    Jimmy came in just as I finished making the bed (which meant straightening the blankets and sheets; the beige coverlet looked and smelled so suspicious, I’d folded it up and shoved it in the closet).
    “Hi,” I said, stopping myself before I could ask, Where were you ?
    “Hey, baby—you miss me?” he asked, dropping his key and a white plastic bag on the table.
    “Of course,” I said, with just enough of a smirk to make him wonder.
    He was wearing faded yellow board shorts, a sleeveless white T-shirt, and a shark-tooth necklace. His hair, which was slightly shaggier than usual and a little damp, was pushed behind his