Mr. Monk Goes to Hawaii Goldberg, Lee (best summer books .TXT) 📖

tented for termites, he had to stay at my house for a few days. He brought two suitcases with him that time, too. But he also hired movers to bring over his furniture and his refrigerator. For a trip to Mexico, I heard he’d brought his own food and water for a week.

“Didn’t you pack a little light?” I said.

“I’m visiting Hawaii,” Monk said. “I’m not moving here.”

All I could figure was that he must have taken one of his magic pills last night so he’d have the nerve to make the plane reservations and the peace of mind to pack light; otherwise he never would have made the flight.

We took our suitcases to the curb, and right away I saw Candace and her fiancé waiting for us, standing in front of a Mustang convertible.

Candace was wearing a halter top, a short floral wrap tied around her waist, and a big sun hat. She looked like she’d just run out of the ocean to meet us. Like everybody else we’d seen, she was flashing a radiant smile. As long as I’d known her, she had been a little chubby and painfully self-conscious about her weight. She wasn’t any thinner, so seeing her casually revealing so much skin made me realize just how happy and self-confident she’d become. The love of a good man can do that to a woman. I know that from personal experience.

Brian Galloway, her twentysomething fiancé, was wearing a loose-fitting Red Dirt tank top over a pair of cargo shorts. There was a ragged straw hat on his head and a pair of Ray-Bans that kept sliding down his big, sunburned nose. That was the first feature they’d fix if he ever went on Extreme Makeover. He had a couple days’ growth of stubble on his face, probably less out of laziness than premeditation. It looked good on him, and Candace probably told him so. He had an average physique that seemed to be only a couple beers and a bag of Cheetos away from flabbing out, which I guess made him a perfect match for my best friend.

Candace shrieked and we ran toward each other like little girls and embraced. Although we talked every week, and e-mailed each other almost every day, it had been at least a year since I’d seen her face-to-face. She worked in advertising down in L.A. and didn’t get up to S.F. very often.

She asked about the flight and Julie and then, of course, about the man standing right behind me.

“I thought you were coming alone,” she whispered, looking over my shoulder at Monk.

“So did I,” I whispered back.

“Did you meet him on the plane?”

“You could say that,” I said, then spoke up. “This is my boss, Adrian Monk.”

“Your boss?” Brian said, making little quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “Does he always come with you on vacations?”

“It’s a working vacation,” I said. At least it was now.

“I bet,” Brian said with a wink, and shook Monk’s hand. “Brian Galloway.”

Monk then turned and offered his hand to Candace.

They also shook hands. It was astonishing. I’d never seen him shake anybody’s hand without asking for a disinfectant wipe immediately afterward.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Monk said to her.

“You’re Adrian Monk?” she replied, bewildered.

“The one and only. But you can call me Chad.”

“I have heard so much about you,” she said, glancing at me. “So very, very much.”

“I’m a legend,” he said without a hint of modesty.

I wanted to change the subject quickly, so I turned to Candace. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your fiancé? Or were you going to wait until after the wedding?”

“Oh, God, what’s come over me?” she said. “Brian, this is Natalie.”

“You’re one lucky man.” I offered him my hand and he pulled me into a hug instead, pressing me close and giving me a kiss on the cheek. His arms were strong, his body was warm, and he smelled of Coppertone and Brut. It felt nice to be enveloped in muscle and masculinity, and I was a little sad when the hug ended.

“I’m so happy you could come,” Brian said. “I don’t think Candy would’ve married me if you weren’t here to be her maid of honor.”

“She’s waited a long time for this day,” I said.

“I wasn’t waiting for the day,” Candy said. “I was waiting for the man. And I finally found him.”

Candy gave his butt a playful squeeze.

“Congratulations to you both,” Monk said. “I know you weren’t expecting me, so I want to assure you I have no intention of crashing your wedding.”

“Nonsense,” Brian said. “You’re invited, and we’ll be hurt if you’re not there. Isn’t that true, sweets?”

“Absolutely, huggums,” Candy said. “There’s nothing sadder than going to a wedding alone. Trust me, I know.”

Brian loaded the suitcases into the trunk and we piled into the Mustang, Monk and I taking the backseat for the drive to Poipu Beach with Sweets and Huggums. Candace and Brian weren’t even married yet, and they already had pet names for each other. They were going to be a tough couple to hang out with.

The two-lane highway took us first through Lihue, which looked like a small Midwestern town that hadn’t changed since the 1970s. The town struck me as being totally out of place amidst the tropical setting. I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe grass huts or something.

Just outside of town, though, any similarity with rural Middle America disappeared. The verdant splendor of the fields, set against the jagged mountains, was breathtaking. I’d never seen so many shades of green before.

“I love the way it smells here.” Monk took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s a heady mix of Air Wick ‘Blue Orchid,’ 1998; Renuzit ‘After the Rain,’ 2001; and Glade ‘Tropical Mist,’ 1999; with an ever-so-slight hint of Lysol ‘Summer Breeze,’ 2003.”

“You certainly know your air fresheners,” Brian said.

“I have an extensive collection,” Monk said.

Candace gave me a look over her shoulder, and I just smiled as if to