A San Francisco Treat

Posted on 27 Mar 2022 @ 16:10 by Chief Warrant Officer 2 Kemo Paahao
Edited on on 27 Mar 2022 @ 17:09

Episode: Our Path
Location: Various Locations, San Francisco USA
Timeline: April 13, 2025 18:00 local time

Tricia gave Kimo a glance and frowned at his smirking face as she balanced on her left right foot, left arm extended and tried to settle her right hand as she lobbed the basketball at the rim.

The ball went through the net, missing the hoop and she focused her eyes on Kimo’s face as he gloated, “Thats “E” baby. E as in loser.”

Hands settling on her hips she considered several responses and then finally, stuck her tongue out at him.

Laughing, Kimo trotted after the ball and caught it before the bounces died out and dribbled back to her. “Want more punishment or have you had enough?”

“Bah,” Tricia told him then, a smile touching her lips. “I whipped your ass in actual basketball not twenty minutes ago, or are you getting forgetful?”

“What,” he asked, blinking at his wife. “Did you say something?”

Tricia poked him in the ribs and then expertly stole the basketball from him, set herself and made a fifteen foot jump shot, still exhibiting the form that had seen her through three years starting at small forward at Mount Holyoke College.

She trotted toward him as he started dribbling toward her and she attempted to steal the ball again as she laughed, “I said forgetful, not deaf.”

Dribbling the ball faster and lower to the floor, Kimo attempts to fake her out then drove the basket, forcing her to backpedal as her arms came up in defense. He stopped short and attempted a short jump shot of his own and sighed as it missed.

“I think I should have,” he started…

“Quit while you were even,” Tricia said, rebounding the ball and turning back to him, pausing with the ball resting on her hip, her eyes sparkling.

He nodded, holding his hands up in surrender as he checked his watch. “More or are you done making your husband look bad?”

“Oh, that’s a job I’ll never be done with, Kimo,” she told him, approaching and kissing him quickly. “But I do think it’s time to move on. After laps in the pool, the fifteen mad minutes at the weight pile and our games, I’m good. Question is are you happy?”

He looked at her and smiled, “Of course. It’s been an awesome surprise and I’m glad I was able to pull an extra day of leave to meet you.”

Kim racked the ball and then grabbed a towel to help her wipe down the floor quickly before they headed up to their room to change. They took the rare advantage of showering together before dressing for an afternoon of sight seeing in San Francisco.

Later that evening, with him in a suit and her in a black cocktail dress they’d spent the last hour dining at MKT restaurant and bar. The hour before had been spent in the bar, sampling the craft cocktails and bar bites. They had enjoyed an (early) breakfast in bed before hitting the pool and gym, then met a friend of Tricia’s and she and her husband had showed them around the city.

They’d lightly lunched at fisherman’s wharf and then spent the rest of the day walking, jumping trams and seeing the sights from a resident’s eye view. Now they stared at each other over the remnants of a lavish supper. “Happy,” it was his turn to ask her.

“Always. Though today and this trip was an amazing good stroke of luck and wise choices on my part,” Tricia told him, smiling.

“Indeed,” Kimo agreed, raising his glass in toast. “Here’s to the fine people and state of Georgia for facilitating your work trip out here.

Tricia giggle, then caught herself as she raised her glass in toast. “Georgia’s also a Nation in Europe, you nut,” she told him. “And they have a consulate here that needed…how did it go? Wrangling?”

“Well, your job is mostly wrangling dudes,” Kimo laughed. “But, yes here’s to the People of Georgia. I’m glad you like that movie, by the way. I thought maybe it would be a bit much.”

They’d spent their first night together at the Four Seasons watching an old movie and cuddling with room service, just enjoying being together without children for the first time in what seemed years.

“Well,” she told him after taking the obligatory sip and settling her glass back to the table. “I definitely don’t condone violence toward women and it seems that comes up fairly often in some John Wayne movies. But, in this case I looked at it as it was supposed to be a comedy. And given the time…Well, yes. I was able to enjoy “McClintock. Next time is my turn though.”

“Aye aye, Miss,” Kimo acknowledged, taking a sip of his after-dinner drink and shifting slightly in his seat. He caught her eyes drifting toward her phone and he smiled, “How are the kids? Any different than fifteen minutes ago?”

She laughed and ruefully pushed her phone back on the table and shrugged, “Habit. But they’re ok. No emergency updates so they’re obviously not driving your cousin to hysterics. They love her. It would have been nice if I’d have brought there with, but..”

Kim nodded and, replied. “But, when’s the last time we’ve been alone together for a weekend? Yeah, I get that and I’m really happy you did.” Despite himself, picked up his fork to pick at the last bit of Ribeye on his plate, dipping it into the horse radish sauce as he caught site of the waiter approaching with their dessert and coffee. As the blonde haired man cleared their table, Kimo finished his drink off too, handing the empty glass over then gazed at his wife as she looked over the plates before them.

“Kevin said he was going to hook us up,” he grinned at her as it was her turn to meet his eyes.

“Kimo,” she said, “I’m going to have to starve myself for a week. I’m glad I put this dress on before dinner. It’ll be a month before it’ll fit again.”

“Hey, you don’t often get to eat at a place with a cousin who’s executive chef,” he grinned. “Seems so strange going from no family to family everywhere. As to the dress, “he continued, “You are stunning and it’s only necessary that I can get you out of it tonight.”

She smiled warmly, cheeks coloring and reached out to take his hand in hers as she scooped up a spoon and dipped it into one of the ice cream choices.

Half an hour later they stepped off the elevator and Kimo slid his arm around her shoulders again as they wandered to their room.

Tricia put her back to the door as he reached out with the key and kissed him, her arms moving about his shoulders for a minute before her fingers traced down to take the key from him. Breaking the kiss then, she turned and backed into him slightly as she worked the card into the slot. “We’ll see if you have any energy left, Mister Paahao,” she said throatily.

He grinned, kissing at the back of her neck and said, “Aye aye, Miss. I am but your humble…” and then was pulled into their hotel room.

Kimo settled himself into his seat on the Alaska airlines flight that would get him to Seattle and closed his eyes. It had been a quick, but really good weekend. It was unlikely he would see Tricia or the kids again for maybe four or five months, depending on Arizona and training that he was being queued for.

They’d started the day with mass at St. Peter and Paul’s church, then brunched in China Town, followed by a tour of the Cable Car museum and a few other sites. About two they’d take a cab to Janel and Charlie’s house in Ashbury Heights. They’d just lounged there, watching various basketball games and were treated to a (chilly) bbq by the couple, all of it getting done before they’d loaded up to take him to the airport.

Kim and Tricia had checked out of their hotel, as she would stay the night with the couple, who’d insisted the day before that Tricia shouldn’t be by herself if she didn’t have to be. Kimo was glad for that. Parting was hard enough. Distraction would be good for her.

He settled himself into the first class seat and glanced up as his eyes caught motion as the steward brought him an IPA beer called Golden from Fremont breweries. Kimo considered the next few months again as he felt the plane begin to pull away from the boarding tube and decided the old salts were right. It was harder and harder each time to go to sea, leaving his family behind.

And another part of himself was eager for it. Sipping at the beer his gaze focused out the window, seeing nothing as he wondered if that made him a bad person. A bad husband. A bad father.

Patricia rarely complained, but he knew it was hard on her. Hard on the cubs too. He'd have to make sure he wrote each of them a few more letters before Arizona left port. And he needed to arrange flowers to be delivered to the house a couple of times a month while he was gone.

Still, even with those gestures he wondered if they came off as just that. Gestures.

Then he shrugged and held back a sigh. Such was the life of a Navy man.