Between Hello and Goodbye(67)

I felt the older woman’s eyes move between Asher and me.

“He’s a good man,” she said suddenly. “But he worries me.”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“No, dear. He’s healthy in body, but in spirit…very troubled.”

“Oh. How?”

“Caught between what he thinks he must do—his duty—and the desires of his heart.”

I shifted in my chair, cleared my throat. “And what would those be?” I asked weakly.

Momi was quiet for a moment, lips pursed. When she spoke, it was as if to herself. “He’s never forgiven his father for abandoning them when they were young or his mother for abandoning them to her addiction. Carrying that anger in him is not good for the soul.” She gave a definitive nod of her head. “He needs to practice the Ho’oponopono.”

“The Ho’popo…what?”

“It’s a Polynesian tradition of forgiveness and healing. Very old, very profound, but very simple. One only need focus on the object of discord and say: I’m sorry, please forgive me, thank you, I love you.”

I frowned. “Why would Asher need to ask forgiveness from his parents? They’re the ones who made a mess of everything.”

“Not from them. He must forgive himself.” Her dark eyes turned to me. “But also thank himself for his strength and goodness and to love himself for who he is. Ho’oponopono is about healing, not atonement.”

Momi looked to my firefighter who was swinging Kal in circles by his wrists while the boy shrieked with laughter.

“Asher believes everything should stay still—in his control—because he thinks that’s what keeps him safe. But life doesn’t hold still. It’s abundant with experiences, not all of them easy. Hardship opens doors in our hearts that would otherwise remain locked. The neglect of his parents is a hardship, but he should try to see it as a gift that has helped make him who he is. Good, kind, protective of those who need him.” She touched her gnarled fingers to my wrist and smiled. “I suspect how he feels about you is one of those experiences that he cannot control, no matter how hard he tries. But it is opening doors in his heart.”

“Mine too,” I whispered. “I feel like I’m just beginning to take control of my life and build something real in Seattle, but how I feel about him…it’s so much. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next. About…us.”

Momi patted my hand, then resettled hers in her lap. “I can’t tell you what to do—”

“You totally can,” I said. “In fact, I’d prefer it if you did.”

She chuckled. “Have patience with him and with yourself. If something is meant to be, it will come to be.”

“That’s nice. Is it an ancient Hawaiian saying?”

Momi tapped her chest. “It’s a saying from this ancient Hawaiian.”

I burst out laughing and hugged her gently. “Everyone needs a Momi.”

“I won’t disagree.”



On my last night, Asher drove us to the luau which was at a venue that had once been a sugar cane farm. People were filing into a huge pavilion to the sound of ukulele music and the scent of plumeria on the wind. Once we were signed in, we walked past wood carvers, jewelry makers, and dancers attempting to teach hapless tourists how to do the hula.

We joined a table with three other couples, under a roof that was laced with lights and lush greenery. The entire drive over—and the last few days in general—had been quieter than usual. More tense. The furrow between Asher’s brows was a permanent fixture and I couldn’t even tease him about it.

“This has been a nice visit. Everyone seems to be doing great,” I said when we’d been seated for five solid minutes in total silence. “How is Kaleo liking the fourth grade? I never got a chance to ask him.”

“He likes it fine,” Asher said. “He misses Chloe, but his new teacher’s great, so…” He shrugged, his eyes on his drink.

I nodded, stiffening at the woman’s name.

She Who is Here.

I took a long pull of my Mai Tai.

The emcee, a woman with dark hair that flowed down the back of her white dress, took the stage. “Before dinner begins, we’d like to have the couples celebrating anniversaries and special occasions come up here for a dance.” She beckoned. “Come on, lovebirds. Don’t be shy.”

Asher leaned in. “Dance with me.”

I blinked and set down my glass. “Really? I didn’t think public gyrations was your thing.”

“Tonight it is.”

He stood up and offered his hand. The others at our table smiled and shared knowing looks as I got to my feet. We headed to the dance floor where Asher pulled me close. I laid my cheek on his chest, my head tucked perfectly under his chin, and we swayed while the emcee sang an old Hawaiian love song, “The Sand and the Sea.”

“Do you know what she’s saying?” I asked against his dress shirt.

“Yes,” he said. “She’s saying, stay in my arms for a moment more.”

I squeezed my eyes shut against sudden tears. “Really?”

“Really.” He tilted my chin to look at him, and a tear escaped to spill down my cheek. His brow furrowed, pain and something deep and warm swam in his eyes. “Now she’s saying, a tear rushes down to the sand.”