“Big Boba?” Jason repeated.
The cabby pointed at a small white Spanish Colonial bungalow that was an art gallery on the next corner. “It’s behind Avalon Gallery. The chairs aren’t as comfortable, but the coffee is fantastic. So is the boba. They should be open.”
“Wow.” Jason nodded. “Thanks, man. Your name is?”
“I’m Andy,” he said, tapping his chest. “Andy Molina at your service.”
“Jason Winters,” Jason said, shaking his hand.
“Mmm. Of course, you are.” Andy grinned, his tongue trapped between his teeth, and he threw a wink on top of it. Jason cleared his throat again.
“Thanks for the help,” Jason said. “I’ll catch a ride next time.”
Andy’s eyes seemed to glaze over slightly just as Jason heard the innuendo in his own words. “Oh! I didn’t mean it like… that way… Jesus.”
“Mm.” Andy clucked his tongue. “Wish you had meant it that way. So long, daddy.”
Andy peddled away, and Jason glared after him.
Somehow this had never been a problem in Los Angeles. Not most of the time. Not unless he was working on the Westside. Apparently, Catalina was full of guys who wanted to bone him and call him “daddy.” And they all looked so young. He didn’t know how to feel about it. And he was tired, and he was sure there was sand in his ass. And he needed coffee.
“Big Boba,” Jason muttered, and spun on his heel to head up the little street toward the coffee.
Big Boba turned out to be a kiosk painted orange. But there was an eclectic collection of patio furniture in the yard surrounding the kiosk and it sat on a steep incline behind Crescent Avenue. There was a pleasant view of the ocean from the outside seating.
Andy failed to mention they had donuts. Jason’s eyes lit up at the sight of crullers. He ordered two, plus a large coffee, and groaned when he finally took a sip, before sinking down into an Adirondack chair painted pink.
Jason sat back in his chair with his long legs folded up a little awkwardly.
His cop friends had always teased him for his stereotypical love of donuts. This always struck him as unfair. The younger guys always seemed much more worthy of mocking than him, with their kale smoothies and acai bowls.
Jason hummed in delight and smacked his lips as he ate his donut and drank his coffee. He was already feeling cheerier. The morning was warming. The sun was bright. He could taste the sea on his tongue and that didn’t taste half bad combined with a cruller.
Two years ago, a serial killer had shot him in the leg just before capture, and that was followed by a divorce he never imagined happening (at least it had been amicable). Now he was eating donuts on an island. Life was odd, he thought, as he nibbled and gazed out at the glimmering sea.
“You like that donut, huh?” The voice was nasal and sardonic, but there was a laugh in it. Jason’s ears perked up, and he turned his head, one sugared finger still in his mouth.
The guy was sitting down, but he seemed tall. He was slim, but broad shouldered. He hunched over a little in his seat. He had close cropped dark brown hair and a square and narrow jaw. His brown eyes laughed at Jason.
“I mean no offense or anything, man,” the guy said. Jason wasn’t sure if he was laughing at himself or Jason. “I’ve just never seen anyone enjoy a donut so much before.”
Jason blinked, swallowed, and said, “It really is a good donut.”
The guy was holding a plastic cup full of something thick and pastel orange. He drank from his straw and said, “That’s because it’s from Selkie Sugar. I don’t want to say they’re the best bakery in town, but they’re the only bakery in town.”
Jason snorted a laugh at that. “Not sure I followed that.”
“Neither did I,” the guy said wryly. “Have you tried the boba?”
“I…” Jason took the last bite of his cruller. He chewed and swallowed before he said, “What is a boba?”
His new boba friend laughed and slapped his knee. He was wearing jeans, a thin T-shirt with an owl on it, and a cardigan. “I’m not going to tell you what a boba is,” the guy said slyly. “You should just experience it for yourself.”
Jason laughed at that. “I don’t think I should trust you!”
“Oh, you definitely shouldn’t trust me.” His eyes bugged out as he shook his head. “Why would you trust me? You just met me a minute ago at a boba place on an island. What kinda freaks live on islands?”
“Yeah, I agree,” Jason said. “I live on a boat just offshore like a totally normal person.”
“Ooh, a boat dweller!” His eyes grew large again. “I always hear about you guys, but I never meet you. I don’t know where you keep yourselves.”
“Well, you have to dinghy to shore,” Jason said.
“Uh huh.”
“It’s really annoying.”
“Aw, you pour soul.”
“I know,” Jason said, nodding sorrowfully. “We lead sad lives.”
The guy grinned at that and bit on his wide straw. “I’m Charlie,” he said.
“Jason.” Jason shook his hand. He couldn’t help but notice that Charlie had very long fingers, and they clasped his own with determination, like he was truly pleased to be meeting him. Jason felt his shoulders drop slightly as Charlie shook his hand.
“Jason,” Charlie said again, and his eyelids lowered slightly. “And you’re a local now…?”
“As of two weeks ago, I’m a local,” Jason said, nodding.
“And you live on a yacht—”
“Technically. I’m a retired cop. Trust me, I’m not a billionaire or anything.”
“Um, no,” Charlie said, tittering. “Cop or no, there’s no technically with a yacht unless it’s infested with eels or something. Is it infested with eels?”
“Not at the moment. I’m just saying the word ‘yacht’ has a lot of baggage.”
“Oh my God, you really have it rough with the dinghy and the yacht baggage.” Charlie clucked his tongue. “What can I do for you? How can I help you? Your life clearly needs to be easier.”
Jason covered his mouth, stifling another laugh. It had been a long time since somebody had fucked with him. The guys at the precinct used to fuck with him all the time until the shooting and then they’d handled him with kid gloves, another thing that had upset him and which he’d never admitted to anyone.
I think I made a friend, he thought. He might even count Andy as one. That was one vow taken care of.
“I’m sorry, man!” Charlie laughed and grabbed Jason’s arm. “I’m totally messing with you and you’re just trying to drink your coffee.”
“No, no!” Jason shook his head. “It’s a relief, actually.”
“Oh, well in that case I could kick the shit out of you if that would also help—”
“It might, it might,” Jason said, and took a sip of coffee.
Charlie glanced at his phone then, his straw poking sideways into his mouth as he held his cup, as if he were maybe thinking about someday taking a sip. “Aw, shit. I gotta go. Too bad, I wanted to see you experience boba.”