by Eden Butler
“Seems like both of us can’t keep our feet out of our mouths.”
Kona smiled, nodding as he drank from the glass the bartender set in front of him, waving off Lily’s credit card when she offered it to the bartender. “Let me buy you a drink. As amends.”
“Not necessary, but thank you.”
He watched the foam settle in his glass, waiting, and Lily could almost time the question before he spoke it.
“So, it was a fire? Your brother…”
“And my sister-in-law.” She took a large gulp of bourbon, liking the burn as it went down. “Old wiring. Old structure. It went up within a half hour.” She could still smell the stench of fire and smoke in what remained of the house. Ellen had died in the fire, Liam, two days later. She’d spent years trying to drive out the memory of him in that bed, sedated, swollen, but nothing would clear the image away. He’d been lost, like his wife, like their home, their cars, Liam’s Jeep; a lifetime of memories—all destroyed. There had been nothing but ash left when she’d returned from the hospital two days later. She’d been twenty-two. She’d been free and happy and in one night, everything she knew as normal changed. Everything got shifted in those flames.
Kona stared into his glass, eyes going unfocused. “They had a daughter…”
“Zinnia. Yes. She was eleven when it happened.” Lily couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face. That always happened when anyone mentioned her niece. “She’s in medical school. Second year intern.”
“No kidding?” Kona lowered his glass, giving Lily an expression she’d seen a hundred times before. There had been money, but not enough to keep her and Zinnia comfortable. No one believed she could do it. No one thought a twenty-two-year-old who missed her last semester finals could handle school and a job and all the things an eleven-year-old needed. They were right. She’d have never managed it on the island. Kona’s smile was infectious, nice and Lily laughed when he shook his head, giving her a looked that told her he was impressed. “Where is she now? Here? In the city?”
“No, unfortunately. Zee wanted to go back home. She missed it, and I couldn’t convince her that the Gulf had anything on the Pacific. She’s at U of H and very happy. Tired and sleep deprived, but she’s happy.” Zinnia managed weekly calls, every Sunday night when she wasn’t too busy at the hospital, when scutwork and training didn’t weigh her down. But as Lily moved the ice around in her glass, hiding her expression, she bit back the little detail of the radio silence she’d gotten from her niece the past few months. She still called, but their conversations were brief and she always seemed eager to get the call over with. “She’s busy a lot lately,” she confessed, concealing her tone behind another swig of bourbon.
“Wait.” Kona held his glass out in front him, pausing his sip as though something had just occurred to him. “You were only a kid when the fire happened. And from what I remembered Keilen saying, you were finishing up your B.A.” Lily shrugged, confirming. “I was dealing with…my own stuff, getting myself together so I suppose I never realized what happened. You left Oahu? You left the island with an eleven-year-old?”
“And did law school. Yes.”
And there was the other expression: disbelief. Most people who’d known Lily in the past bought that she took care of her niece. They even believed she had done a good job of it, but no one easily believed that she’d managed to take care of Zee and finish law school without help. There hadn’t been any. There had only been Lily and Zinnia and the fierce will each had to help the other survive. Gumption was easy enough for most folks to swallow. Self-reliance that succeeded was something altogether different.
“I did. Well, we did. I couldn’t have done it without her. Liam had a small business and a smaller 401k. He left Zee a trust that helped a little, but it ran out before she was sixteen. For the most part, we raised each other.” Lily pushed back the memories; they were bittersweet, more so since Zinnia had grown a little distant the past few months. But most of those memories got tied up in the struggle. There had been so much of it. Lots of Ramen noodles, more cans of fifty-cent soup. Somehow, though, they survived. There had been a small Palo Alto apartment and the twenty-four hour coffee shop. The manager had been understanding and desperate for steady workers. She hadn’t minded Zee sleeping in the storage room while Lily worked the night shift.
“Zinnia helped me study, and I helped her with her homework. We pulled our weight on house duties and I said ‘yes’ a lot when her school friends asked her to sleep over. It wasn’t easy but I’d done it before. I did what I had to. So did she.”
“Women,” Kona said, head shaking. There was an astounded expression on his face when he spoke, one that matched the low, amazed whistle he released. “No way in hell you’re the weaker sex. I saw that in my mom. I see it every day in my Keira.” He toasted her and Lily smiled. “Here’s to badass women. Present company included.”
“Thanks.”
She took a drink, finishing off her bourbon, and let herself watch Kona as he downed his Guinness. He hadn’t changed much since she’d last seen him on the night of the fire—in fact, he hadn’t changed much since he’d been a kid. He was larger, and there were the smallest of lines fanning out around his eyes, but Lily saw the same boy she’d known. One-half of the chaotic duo that kept Keilen on his toes anytime they visited. Just looking at Kona made Lily homesick in a way she hadn’t been in years. She wondered if that feeling came from how familiar he seemed, how much he reminded Lily of home, and the things she had left unfinished there, or if it was the chasm in her chest where her heart was meant to be—the same one created the second she watched Zinnia board a plane bound for Hawaii.
But most of those thoughts had eased with time. She missed her niece. She missed the island, and her life in New Orleans was… well, awful at the moment. Lily moved her nearly empty glass to her other hand and toasted Kona back, feeling the need to distract herself from her thoughts.
“And here’s to Hawaii and all the beautiful people who call it home.” She smiled, head shaking a little. “Then and now.”
Kona laughed behind his glass when he drank, seeming to relish the taste, letting whatever thoughts moved around in his head shift his features. Maybe, like Lily, he remembered the island and the time he and his family spent there as kids. Maybe, Lily thought, he reflected on Keilen and the life he had now. Or maybe Kona just thought Lily was an idiot for not following Zinnia when she left for the island. The thing about Hawaii that Lily knew, that she was sure Kona knew, was that it was home. Once Hawaii embraced someone, it never let go, no matter how many miles were put between that person and the island.
Kona cleared his throat, reclining against the back of the stool, his focus shifting between Lily’s lowering smile and whatever he found so damn interesting in his glass. “Have you been back? Keira and I got married in Kailua. I…uh…I saw Keilen maybe twice while we were there but everything was…it was a madhouse.”
“It’s a little hard to get back there.” She did her best not to focus on how Kona mentioned Keilen. She didn’t want to know about him, not really. He’d been someone she thought about when she could, when life wasn’t cluttering up her mind. That didn’t happen often. Besides, she was over him. Keilen Rivers had been a stupid childhood crush that she’d held onto throughout college. But life and responsibilities had taken away the things that weren’t immediate. There had been no time for men or love or things that couldn’t help raise Zinnia.
“Zee said the whole city practically shut down to honor the conquering hero, Kona Hale, when you visited.”
A quick blush brightened Kona’s dark skin but he waved off the mention like the attention he’d gotten wasn’t worth discussing. “Yeah, well, I only wanted to marry my nani wife. It all got out of hand.” He hesitated, taking another swig before he motioned for the bartender to refill their glasses. When he spoke, he didn’t look at her. “I’d have loved to spend more time with Keilen.”
Lily hesitated, wonderin
g if it would be weird to ask about him. Wondering, too, if it was obvious and stupid not to mention the one person she had in common with Kona. Well. Sort of. But she was feeling relaxed, a little buzzed from the afternoon spent in the bar and seeing Kona reminded her of those broken promises. It would be rude not to ask. The liquor in her belly urged her to ask and for once, she set caution aside. “So. How…how is he?”
Kona Hale’s inability to hide his reaction struck her as ridiculous just then. It was the slow inch of his smile, how it was obvious, pleased. How he couldn’t keep his thoughts from his expression and what he thought was obvious: he liked Lily asking about Keilen.
“He’s good. He’s worked hard, put himself through school. Got a great job, nice house.” Kona hesitated, swirling the drink again. “No wife, though. No pépés.” The please smirk shifted, was exaggerated by the slow shake of his head and obvious waggle of his eyebrows.
“What’s that look?”
“No look.” Kona laughed outright when Lily rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. You and my cousin, you were both a little stupid.”
“We spoke less than ten words to each other in high school.”
“Hell, who needs words? Sometimes,” he shrugged and the same sweet, mildly stupid grin he got on his face when he mentioned his wife reappeared. “Sometimes you don’t need any words at all. Sometimes there’s a look. Sometimes there’s even less than that—a feeling. Something you just know bone deep.”
“And you think me and your cousin had that bone-deep thing?”
Another headshake and Kona shrugged, downing his drink. “How the hell should I know? Maybe.” He waved the bartender over and motioned for his bill. “I just know that you were the girl for my lolo cousin. You were the dream, and I’d have to be blind and stupid not to see the way you looked at him or see what was about to go down that night at Tommy’s.”
“That was a long time ago, Kona. Besides, you’re the only one I know who gets a happily ever after. They might happen, but they don’t happen for people like me.”
Kona frowned, leaning on an elbow to move closer. “You don’t believe that, Lil.”
“I’ve seen a lot of good, but there’s been more bad. I know my lot in life.”
He shook his head, and Lily could tell there was more he wanted to say, an argument he likely knew he wouldn’t win. But Kona remained silent, choosing instead to take the pen from the bartender and quickly scribbled on the paper, keeping his attention on Lily as he nodded toward the large window at his back.
“Gonna start getting chilly here soon. Makes me want to go back to the island, spend the holidays surfing and putting Hawaiian Tropic all over my Wildcat’s belly.” Lily tilted her head, a little confused and Kona’s features softened, as though someone had reminded him of other things aside from what had almost happened between Keilen and Lily. “We’re gonna have a son soon.”
“Another one?”
“Yes. I’m hoping for ten more.” He polished off what remained of his drink using a napkin from the dispenser between them to dry the moisture from his mouth. “Like I said, it might be a good idea to go back home. Clear your head. See that niece of yours. How long has it been?”
“Last Thanksgiving.” Lily’s buzz dimmed somewhat, as Kona’s suggestion penetrated her mind. It had been a while and she did have that forced vacation time coming to her, though she hated the thought of spending an entire day on an airplane. Lily blinked, pushing aside the thought to finish her explanation to Kona. “We went to London. We saw the Globe and ordered turkey and dressing from the hotel kitchen like any good American would on Thanksgiving.”
“They served that?” Kona asked through a laugh.
“No. We settled for tomato sandwiches and onion soup.”
He nodded, folding his arms over his chest as though the gesture wasn’t intimidating in the least. “That’s a long time go between visits.”
“We’re both busy. She never sleeps, I’m always working.” Her excuses were lame; she knew that and suspected Kona did too. But he was never one to call people out on their bullshit. At least she’d never seen it.
There was something calculating working in his features—something that instantly made Lily suspicious and anxious. She’d seen Keilen make that face the night of the rugby match and again the night at Tiki Tommy’s when she’d made those promises she didn’t have a chance to keep. That look meant trouble. It promised mischief. Coming from Kona Hale, though, didn’t shoot the same excited nervousness to Lily’s stomach.
“I got a plane, you know.” Ah. There it was. Scheming. Plans. Meddling. All behaviors Kona hadn’t forgotten when he left the island.
“That right?” She tried to keep her expression impassive, not wanting to give Kona the slightest indication that she thought of saying yes to his offer.
“Well. I have access to a plane.”
Lily shook her head, leaning on the bar as she watched Kona’s smile threatening to split completely across his face. “And why would I want to borrow your access to a plane?”
“To see your niece.” The man was full of it. Lily knew it. Kona knew it. But he did nothing to hide that truth from her.
“Uh huh, and no one else?”
“Well.” He took a second to scrub one large hand along the back of his neck; a movement that made Lily think he knew what a piss poor job he did of hiding his intentions. “I don’t think it would be a bad idea to look Keilen up. I know he still wonders about you.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know him. Besides, I saw the look on his face that night. That wasn’t a one-night only smile. Trust me, I know. Same goofy smile lives on my face now.” Kona stood, digging out a card from his wallet before he handed it over to Lily and squeezed her shoulder. “Just think about it.” Then he winked and stepped away from the bar. “It was good to see you, Lil.” He was nearly to the lobby entrance before he turned around, sending her that sweet smile that emphasized the dimples in his left cheek. “Plenty of sun on the island and, if I’m being honest, you could use a little tan.”
Chapter Four
The condo on Decatur Street was decked out in the odds and ends that fit Lily’s personality. Pictures of abstract sunsets—turquoise water and white sand against oranges and yellows were hung around the front room, some pieces of art Lily had acquired over the years that she could barely afford, but that Zee had liked and, well, it was rare that Lily could muster up the heart to tell her niece “no.”
Chenille throws and plush pillows in different shades of blue lay scattered around the almond colored sectional and along the tufted footstools that lined the large bay windows in the den. Those colors reflected brightly against the high-gloss ebony floors, and gave the place a warm, comfortable vibe.
There were pieces from artists who showed their art around the Square and proper gallery-show pieces Lily had picked up a few years ago when Zinnia had finished up her semester and came to New Orleans to visit. Lily kept a bedroom made up for her. There were framed pictures of Liam and Ellen, of Lily’s mother holding an infant Zee years back, and linens in her favorite lavender color on the drapes and across the bedding. Lily still kept the sweet pea-scented candles her niece loved most and sometimes, when she was truly lonely for the girl, she’d light those candles to drive out her day at the firm and the bitter bite of her empty condo.
The building developers had taken care to leave brick columns and walls exposed, giving the place a hint of character, a little of old New Orleans on display to draw in the new rich and old, the younger generations that pretended to care about how old their building was. But Lily had loved the view of the Mississippi outside her back balcony and how the sounds of the Quarter lifted and hung in the air on any given night. It was music, the sound of busy streets and happy tourists, the lives and laughter of the city peppering the air around her. But, New Orleans, no matter how rich, how finely cultured, had nothing on Hawaii. It didn’t have beautiful white, sandy beaches or water so clear you cou
ld see the black lava rock under the waves. It didn’t have a mass of feral chickens brought to the islands then set free by storms and winds, or the low, sweet sound of island music, something that generated peace and serenity skirting in every rumple of wind.
Besides, for all the color and magic to be found in New Orleans, The Big Easy didn’t have Zee. It didn’t have Lily’s only remaining family, and that alone made her heart ache with melancholy. Maybe Kona had been right. Maybe it would be a good to time to visit again. But logically she knew she couldn’t take Kona seriously. That would be irresponsible and pointless. Besides, the flight would be long and depending on the weather, the best hotels would likely be booked. Everyone tried to grab the best places just as fall began, seeming unwilling to release their tight holds on summer. It made no sense at all to drop her life in New Orleans and spontaneously go back to the island that had been so hard on her. And then, Lily heard the alarm sound on her cell, and her plans, any mountain agendas she had for spending her forced time off, got sidetracked completely.
She hadn’t paid much attention to the messages on her phone until she was out of the cab and inside her condo. Lincoln kept texting and her friends from the yoga studio had called to ask her for drinks. She’d ignored both, and it wasn’t until the third alert in a row that Lily hurried from her bathroom with her wet hair wrapped in a towel, hurrying to silence the phone.
The message light blinked and Lily selected the icon, smiling when she spotted Zee’s name. A feeling of relief burst through her that her niece had called a full three days before she was scheduled. When the message started and Lily picked up on the worn, raspy tone of her voice, her quick smile dropped from her features completely.
“This is hard to tell you,” her niece started, clearing her throat. “I mean, I can tell you anything, right? It’s what we’ve always promised. Total honesty.” Between her breaths, Zinnia laughed and the sound came out nervous and awkward. It made Lily’s heart beat double time. “Even when it’s things you don’t wanna know. Like…like the time I let Joe Mills feel me up under my bra and you wanted details and then stopped me cold when I started giving them to you and…well…I told you I needed to tell you…” She was babbling, a trait that usually surfaced when Zinnia had news she didn’t want to share. News she believed would worry Lily. “I’m kinda glad you didn’t pick up, actually, though I didn’t want to say this to you without seeing your face. God, Lil, why aren’t you on FaceTime? Anyway, well, it’s…I think it’s good news. I hope you will too. I hope…hell…”