Steve McGarrett took a sip of his coffee, looking out over the low railing and past a pair of spreading plumeria trees at the ocean, deep blue in the late afternoon sun. Despite the gentleness of the swell, a row of hopeful figures bobbed in the water along the break, and a few sailboats could be seen farther out. On the sand, a group of boys were tossing a football, while couples strolled along the waterline. The incessant calls of a variety of small birds made a pleasant overlay to the sounds of passing cars.
His contemplation of the view was interrupted by a pretty waitress with a plumeria blossom behind her ear. "Can I get you anything to eat?" she asked.
"Not right now, thank you," Steve told her. "I'm meeting someone."
"I'll just leave the menu, then!" she said, moving off to attend to other customers.
McGarrett set his mug down on the counter in front of him, which stretched the length of the second-floor café to take maximum advantage of the view. He ran a fingertip over one of the innumerable small circular cracks in the deeply lacquered surface. Odd, I wonder what caused it to break this way? he thought idly, turning his gaze back out over the plumeria. The dark green leaves and rounded white flowers with their delicate hint of yellow contrasted strikingly with the blue water beyond. Across the street, the shadows of a row of palm trees lengthened, the clouds now touched with gold and orange as the sun neared the horizon. Tourists in beachwear passed by on the way to their hotels, though the row of would-be surfers could still be seen in the water, dark dots silhouetted against the blue. A catamaran with sails striped horizontally in red and yellow slowly cruised by.
The waitress appeared to refill Steve's cup. "No sign of your friend yet?" she asked.
"No. I'm afraid he's late," McGarrett answered.
"We're not busy, wait as long as you like," she said cheerily.
Steve thanked her, looking at his watch. Half an hour past our arranged time, he thought, turning to look over the restaurant. Even though he'd taken his jacket off and draped it over the stool beside him, his shirtsleeves and tie contrasted oddly with the clientele of surfers in shorts and T-shirts and a scattering of tourists in matching lurid aloha wear. His choice of meeting place, he mused. Not a joint I've been in before. Decent enough coffee, though of course the view is what sells it. Absently he loosened his tie, undoing his top collar button.
The sun was almost touching the horizon now, a shining path of orange light stretching across the deep blue water. The dark shapes of the palm trees framed the brilliant disk and golden clouds. A dinner cruiser had joined the remaining sailboats to watch the sunset, and small night birds wheeled and dove around the trees. McGarrett looked at his watch again. Where is he? I hope nothing's gone wrong.
A band started setting up in the restaurant, a few thumps sounding as the drummer tested his bongos. Steve watched the sun, an evening breeze ruffling his dark bangs. The orange circle disappeared abruptly, as though swallowed whole by the ocean, leaving only the golden glory of the sky. In the East, all was a deep blue, lights winking on to sparkle against the oncoming night.
I guess he isn't coming, McGarrett thought, checking his watch once more. If something's happened to him... Standing abruptly, he reached into his pocket for change and collected his jacket. As he turned to leave, he saw the person he'd been waiting for, standing by the hostess stand in a polo shirt and slacks, anxiously scanning the crowd. Catching sight of the head of Five-O, the man hurried over.
"Steve! I didn't think you'd still be here," he said, taking a seat beside McGarrett. "One of the kids at the game got hit with a bat and I had to take him to the doctor and track down his parents. I'm sorry, I should have called the restaurant, but I didn't realize it had gotten this late until I was in the car and saw the sun was setting."
"That's okay, Danno. Some things are definitely worth waiting for," his partner said with a smile.
Author's Note: Just a little attempt to convey a Hawaii scene through Steve's eyes, incited by Senzarit. The cover photo is of the actual sunset I'm describing, though I'm afraid neither the picture nor my words can do it justice!
(This is set in the universe of my series "The Telephone Rang".)