Between Hello and Goodbye(87)

And it gave me Asher.

I loved that man with all that I was. I loved his island because it was where he called home. He’d been prepared to give it all up for me. He’d been willing to sacrifice being with his family, his friends, his buddies on the job, the contentment and peace that he’d been searching for his whole life and had found on little Kauai…he’d been ready to trade it all. And I had to hope the only reason he’d do that was if he felt some shred of that peace when he was with me.

More than I wanted cocktail hour and city streets and shopping sprees, I wanted to love him and be loved by him. Not to become lost in Asher and give myself up to him, but to be more with him. More of myself than I yet knew. Because I had something to give, too.

I touched the quartz pendant around my neck and smiled out over the ocean that stretched for miles. Endless. Like possibilities. Life wasn’t just one thing. Or even one place. It was boundless potential and experiences waiting to be explored. Seattle would always be there for me, but what I felt for Asher wasn’t going to come around again.

I refused to let it go .





Chapter Twenty-Six



The storm arrived.

Dark, thick clouds rolled in, and the rain was constant. Late that afternoon, after my shift, I checked-in with Momi to make sure she and the live-in nurse I’d hired were going to be safe. I drove to Momi’s little house in Hanalei, not far from where Morgan and Nalani lived.

Had lived. Past tense.

I had to remind myself of that often. My brain was hardwired to expect my brother’s goofy smile, hear his voice on the phone, his laugh and his dumb jokes, and his hugs that I pretended I didn’t like but actually needed more than I could have known.

“Stop it.”

The grief was circling close today, like a hungry wolf. Always shadowing me, ready to sink its teeth in and tear me to shreds.

Not yet…

I pulled onto the drive that led to Momi’s bungalow. The house was pure old Hawaii—wood interiors and filled with island art—koa wood sculptures, woven rugs, beads, and old photographs of Momi’s family. All dead now. Including her daughter, Nalani’s mother, who’d raised Nalani alone until cancer took her. Momi had outlived her daughter and her granddaughter and was still here. She hadn’t given up.

The nurse—Maryanne—met me at the door and we walked through her emergency supplies and procedures. Then she told me that Momi was in her room, about to nap, but wanted to see me.

“Aloha, Asher,” she said as I walked in, though her eyes were on the window where rain smattered the glass. Don Ho was singing about Beautiful Kauai on an old turntable. Momi turned to me, thinner and even more frail since the broken hip. Her long hair, that recently had a little bit of black in it, was now completely white.

Grief will do that to you. It sucks a piece of your soul away.

“Come. Sit.”

I pulled a chair up to her bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Old,” she said. “And running out of time.”

“Jesus, don’t say that.”

She scoffed weakly. “I’m not dying this minute, child, but I’m going to say what I need to say to make sure it’s said.” She fixed me with a pointed look. “Where is Faith?”

“You know where she is,” I said in a low voice. “I can’t bring her back here, Momi. I can’t make her live a life she doesn’t want.”

“How do you know what she wants? Have you asked her? Or did you push her away because you assumed that was best for her?”

“She thrives in the city. She told me a hundred times the island is too small…” I waved my hands. “Doesn’t matter. Chloe offered to move in, and I said yes.”

Momi’s eyes flared. “Ai, ke akua e kokua mai ia’u,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“I need help with Kal and maybe…”

“Maybe you’ll fall in love with her the way you love Faith?” Momi snorted. “And you’re supposed to be the smart one.”

I scrubbed my eyes. “The other day, I had a meeting with my business manager. Island Memories has to shut down. I can’t run it and even if I hired someone, it was all Morgan. His photos…” I cleared my throat. “And their house is going to be torn down and I had to tell that to Kal and it’s all just…”

“Too much? Oh, my boy.” Momi patted my hand. “I wish I were strong enough to help carry your burdens, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t let me. The only thing I can do is give you our words and I want you to listen.”

“Our words?”

“Mine and Morgan’s.”

“What do you mean?”

Momi turned to the rain on the window. The rivulets that streamed in random patterns.

“When you are as old as me, you notice things. Signs. Serendipities. And when there is great loss, you notice them then too. The little gifts that let you know you’re not as alone as you think you are.”

She turned to me.

“Signs are not the same as coincidences, though the cynic will say so. But a sign feels different than a mere coincidence. You feel it deep in your soul. Sometimes a whale is just a whale, breaching on the horizon. Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes the whale comes right when you need to see it, and you are comforted.”