Not Always Happenstance (Power of the Matchmaker)

by Rachael Anderson

  But as she waved goodbye and watched the silver Focus disappear through the dense green foliage of eastern Maui, the sunny warmth was pushed aside by a cool breeze that chilled her from the inside out.

  Lani shook off the feeling as she wandered back inside to get a start on the day’s work. At her desk, she clasped her fingers behind her and arched her back, giving it a good stretch before she took a seat. Lani only had thirty minutes until breakfast preparations would begin, and she needed to make the most of that time.

  Now where was that stack of invoices? She began shuffling papers around, trying to find them, when someone cleared her throat not far away.

  Lani glanced up in surprise. A striking and petite Asian woman stood before her wearing a floral shirt and mint-green slacks. Her hair was pulled back in a bun at the nape of her head, and light from the window caught the sheen on a lovely, pearl-studded comb.

  Where had the woman come from? Lani had been outside only moments before. There had been no new cars in the drive, and the bell on the door hadn’t rung. How long had she been waiting? And who was she? New guests weren’t scheduled to arrive until the weekend.

  “I’m so sorry,” Lani said, standing to find she was over a head taller than the woman. “I didn’t see you there. May I help you?”

  The woman nodded politely. “I’m here to check in. My reservation is under the name Pearl.” She had a Chinese accent.

  Lani’s brow furrowed. Check in? No one by the name of Pearl was listed on the reservation list—at least not anytime during the next three weeks. Lani knew because she’d gone over them only yesterday. “I’m sorry, but you must have us confused with another bed and breakfast. We’re booked out the entire summer.”

  Pearl squinted at a paper in her hand. “Is this not Halemahina Pumehana?” Even with her mild accent, she’d pronounced the name perfectly. Most guests tried, but failed—some by a little, others, a lot. It had even taken Lani a few weeks to get the name down. Pearl, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly where she was.

  “May I see that?” Lani nodded at the paper Pearl held.

  “Of course.” She handed it to Lani.

  One look, and Lani panicked. It was a printout of a reservation booked online through their website with a check-in date of today for the Akua room. How had this happened? Mr. and Mrs. Porter had reserved the room months ago and would be here two more nights. And Dr. Jenkins and her daughter were in the Hema room until Monday. Lani had corresponded with both guests prior to them coming. She’d sent directions, checked them in on arrival, and offered suggestions for activities.

  She’d never so much as seen Pearl’s name before.

  Lani had no idea what to say or do. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry, but—”

  The bell on the door jingled, and Mr. and Mrs. Porter breezed into the lobby, carrying their suitcases.

  “Oh, Lani. Good, you’re here,” said Mrs. Porter in her sugary sweet voice as she peered at Lani beneath the brim of a giant, white sunhat. “You’ve been such a dear to us, but Ray and I decided last night that Hāna is much too quiet for us.” She threw her arms out to the side in a dramatic gesture. “We need parties, excursions, shows, luaus on the beach, and… well, a few more people than Hāna has to offer.”

  “Don’t forget massages,” added her husband.

  Mrs. Porter tittered a laugh. “Yes, definitely massages. Anyway, I do hate to spring this on you, but we’re off to Lahaina this morning for what we hope is a grand adventure. Thank you for being so hospitable. This place is just charming. We’ll be sure to tell all our friends about it and leave raving reviews on TripAdvisor. Feel free to charge our credit card for the remaining rent since we are cutting out early.”

  “What about breakfast?” asked Lani as she accepted Mr. Porter’s credit card and scrambled to get the paperwork together.

  “No need to worry about feeding us, my dear. We enjoyed the last of the loaf of yummy banana bread you left for us yesterday.”

  “Are you sure?” said Lani, handing them the receipt.

  “Positive,” said Mrs. Porter. “Really, you’ve been lovely.”

  In a flurry of suitcases and bells, they waved goodbye with an “Aloha” and were off.

  “Aloha,” Lani said belatedly. She looked from the door to Pearl before coming to her senses. “It looks as though a room just opened up. It’s available until Friday morning. Will three days work for you?”

  Pearl slid the reservation printout back into her handbag before Lani had a chance to see the checkout date. She nodded and smiled, as though this sort of coincidence happened every day. “That will do nicely for now. Mahalo.”

  For now? Lani thought as she fished the rental contract from the drawer. “You can look this over on the lanai, if you’d like, while I make you some fresh—”

  “Hot chocolate?” Pearl’s expression brightened. “I do love a good hot chocolate.”

  Lani nodded. She had been about to say juice, but they had hot chocolate as well—she hoped. “Okay then. One hot chocolate it is. I’ll also need about an hour to get your room ready, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course. I’ll wait on the lanai.” Pearl offered Lani a serene smile, dipped her head, and walked outside. This time the bells on the door jingled the way they always did.

  Lani was staring at the closed door, trying to make sense of what had just happened, when Puna waltzed in wearing a turquoise and orange muumuu.

  “Cheer up, pilialoha,” said her grandmother. “Derek will be back soon. He always comes back.”

  Lani blinked, wondering what her grandmother was talking about. And like a bad aftertaste, the memory of that morning came back. Derek. Proposal. California.

  Lani slowly sank down in the chair and looked at the woman who’d become more dear to her than her own mother. Short, gray curls surrounded her slightly wrinkled, age-spotted face, always looking neat despite the humidity. It was going to break Lani’s heart to leave.

  “Puna, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  The task chair squeaked as Lani adjusted positions and prodded herself a little closer to the computer while she waited for the painfully slow site to load. She’d tried to talk her grandmother into upgrading to high-speed, satellite internet, but her grandmother had always said that what their guests really needed was to get out of tune with the internet and more in tune with nature.

  Lani never bothered to remind her that it was because of the internet that their two rooms booked out well in advance, and a high-speed connection would make their work so much more efficient. It would especially come in handy now, when shopping for flights could easily take the entire two weeks Lani had left.

  “When do you leave again?” Her grandmother’s sweet, airy voice sounded from behind.

  Lani smiled, knowing her grandmother knew exactly when she’d be leaving. This was her way of bringing up the conversation again now that she’d had time to plan a counter-attack.

  “Fourteen days,” said Lani.

  “Only two weeks?” Her grandmother tried to sound properly surprised, but failed. “But you only just got here.”

  Lani’s lips lifted into a soft smile as she scrolled through a list of possible flights. “I’ve been here five years, Puna.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. Only five years—not nearly enough time for Hāna to seep into your soul the way it should.” Her grandmother pulled an armchair forward and planted her slightly plump frame at Lani’s side.

  The page finally loaded, and Lani grimaced at the amount the airline was asking for a one-way ticket. Maybe she’d been too hasty in saying she’d move in two weeks. Last-minute airfare was the equivalent of highway robbery.

  “Trust me,” Lani said. “Hāna has done more than enough seeping into my soul. It’s time for Derek to do some seeping.”

  “Derek, sch-merek.” Her grandmother waved a dismissive hand.

  Lani paused in her search long enough to shoot her grandmother a look of confusion. “I t
hought you liked Derek.”

  “Oh, I do.” Her tight, gray curls bobbed up and down as she nodded. “And so do you.”

  Lani joined in the nodding. “Which is why I need to go. I need to show him exactly how much I like him.”

  “But not love?” Her grandma lifted a wrinkly brow.

  Lani rolled her eyes. “Love. I meant love.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Puna, don’t start with me. Derek has waited long enough, and I’ve made my decision. It’s time for me to move back to California.”

  Her grandmother’s eyes became merry as she tapped two fingers against Lani’s wrist. “See? You keep making my point for me. I wish you could hear yourself.”

  “I think you’re the one who’s having trouble hearing.”

  “If you were truly in love,” continued her grandmother, “there would be no decision to make. You would have flown home two years ago.”

  Lani’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. From the moment she’d waved goodbye to Derek that morning, she’d become a robot, forming lists and checking off items. She knew if she stopped to think about leaving—really think about it—uncomfortable things would happen. Lumps would form in her throat, her stomach would knot, and her heart shrivel.

  She’d rushed through her morning routine, trying not to smell the white plumeria that she arranged in a vase for Pearl’s lanai, attempting to ignore the undulations of the Koa flooring in the kitchen as she prepared Hawaiian omelets for Pearl and the Jenkins. In the lobby, she’d purposely avoided looking at her favorite picture of her and her grandmother, grinning in front of Waimoku Falls. Puna had insisted on hiking the Pipiwai trail as soon as her physical therapy ended. She’d said she needed proof that her new knees would be better than the old ones, and nothing would stop her. It had been a long and slow journey, and by the end of it Puna had been wobbly and sore, but she’d made it. Lani had never been more proud of her grandmother.

  Memories. They hung from every wall, stretched across every floor, shone from every window, and mingled with every breath. Only Lani’s to-do lists kept them at a distance.

  But now, with Puna sitting at her side, smelling like coconut and wearing her favorite muumuu, it was impossible to continue with robot-mode.

  “I don’t want to leave, Puna,” said Lani quietly. “I’m going to miss you so much. I can’t stand thinking about it. But I can’t let Derek wait for me any longer. It’s not fair to him.”

  “I agree.” Her grandmother’s head bobbed up and down as though she really did.

  “You do?”

  “Yes. Derek definitely shouldn’t wait any longer. He should move on to someone else.”

  Lani sighed and shook her head. “And where would that leave me? Should I stay here and marry Ahe? Or better yet, Taavatti?”

  “Heaven’s no,” said her grandmother. “Taavatti is twice your age, child. And Ahe, while a dear, could never stand up to you. You need a man who’s as strong-minded as you. Someone who challenges your views, makes you change some of them and keeps you holding fast to others. Someone who makes your heart soar.”

  Lani’s thoughts went to Derek, and she frowned. “You make it sound like a romance novel.”

  “As it should be.”

  “No, Puna. Romance novels are fiction. My life is real. Derek is loyal, good, and kind. He’s… a rock.” Lani had meant it as a compliment, but it sounded so staid and unromantic, so she quickly added, “My rock.”

  That didn’t sound much better.

  “Rocks are for sitting, dear. And stubbing your toes. When it comes to soaring, they only weigh you down.”

  Lani shrugged. “Maybe I don’t want to soar.”

  “If you knew what it felt like, you would.”

  Lani thought of her parents’ relationship and how her mother had once said that her father had swept her off her feet only to drop her with a bruising thud ten years and two kids later. If there was one thing nine years of dating had done for Lani, it had assured her that Derek would never drop her. In her mind, rock-solid loyalty beat soaring any day.

  “Derek’s qualities are important to me. And if I don’t go now, I’ll lose him, and I can honestly say I don’t want that to happen. He’s become very dear to me.”

  Her grandmother clasped her fingers on her lap and studied Lani for a moment. “Can we at least make a compromise?”

  Lani hesitated. “What sort of compromise?”

  “Well, this is all happening a little fast for me. I’ve gotten used to having you around and relying on you too much. Would you be willing to stay through the summer? Three months instead of two weeks? It’s our busiest season, and I could use your help one last summer. You can teach me all you know about computers, and I can come to terms with losing you. Besides that”—she nodded toward the computer—“airplane tickets will probably be cheaper in the fall.”

  All three very good points. And as Lani considered her grandmother’s compromise, a heaviness lifted from her shoulders. Three months would also give Lani some time to get used to the idea of leaving. It all fell into place like a happy win-win.

  Until she thought of Derek. Would he be willing to give her three more months?

  Probably. He wouldn’t like it, but he would. Which was exactly why Lani refused to let him go. Men like Derek Lundstrum were about as rare as seeing the elusive Hawaiian Blue butterfly. In the five years Lani had lived in Hāna, she’d never seen one, and unless a miracle happened, she probably never would.

  Another lump in her throat and twist of her stomach.

  She really needed to keep her thoughts on Derek and away from Maui, her grandmother, and everything else she’d come to love during the past five years.

  “Okay, Puna. Let me talk to Derek first, and we’ll see. But if I do stay, when September comes, I need you to let me go without a fight. Deal?”

  Her grandmother’s expression brightened, and a happy smile formed. “If you still want to go, I promise to let you.”

  Lani gave her grandmother a look of amused tolerance.

  “In the meantime—” Puna pushed her chair back and stood. “We have work to do. You know that little house on the hill? We need to get it aired out and cleaned up.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve rented it out for the summer,” said her grandmother as she breezed out of the room.

  Lani stared at the open doorway as she tried to process the news. The little house on the hill? The one overrun with blue jade vines and white shrimp plants? The home of several geckos, spiders, and bugs? The home Lani hadn’t set foot in since she arrived because it was off limits?

  Airplane tickets forgotten, Lani leapt from her chair and skidded into the hall as she raced after her grandmother. “Puna!”

  Easton raised his sunglasses to the crown of his head and pulled the strap of his laptop bag tighter over his shoulder while his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the lobby. A floor-to-ceiling window stood behind him, but the overcast skies and gargantuan Koa tree in the yard out front enshrouded the space with a heavy shade. The room smelled like a mixture of pina colada and aged, humidified wood and looked exactly the way it had been described on the website.

  A painted picture of a Hawaiian coastline hung from the wall in front of him, and he stepped forward, wishing he could be here on vacation instead of for work. When it came to his “job,” Maui was the last place he wanted to be.

  A woman with long, almost-black hair sat at a desk, hunched over some paperwork. Apparently, she was immersed in whatever she was doing because she didn’t acknowledge him even though the bells on the door should have alerted her to his presence.

  And yet…

  Nothing.

  Easton was about to clear his throat when she finally spoke. “The stare-me-down challenge isn’t going to work, Puna. I refuse to forgive you until my body stops aching and you explain to me why you suddenly felt the need to—” She looked up, and the rest of her words died a quick death.

  Her
dark brown, slightly wide-set eyes—the kind a guy could drown in—widened. With long eyelashes, eyebrows arched at the most intriguing spot, deeply tanned oval face, high cheekbones, and lips the soft pink of the flowers he’d passed on his way in, the woman was flat-out gorgeous.

  Easton found himself not minding at all that she’d made him wait.

  She quickly stood and smoothed down the floral skirt she wore before her gaze returned to his. Only three or four inches shorter than his six-foot frame, she was slender and curved in all the right places. A slight blush darkened her cheeks as she took him in, and Easton hid his smile. He was used to turning women’s heads and had long since gotten over any self-consciousness that came from it.

  She finally found her voice. “I’m sorry. You’re obviously not Puna.”

  “No, thank goodness.” He grinned. “Sounds to me like she’s on your blacklist, and I’d rather not start off that way.” He stepped forward and held out a hand. “Easton Allard. I spoke to a Cora Kahele on the phone last week about renting a private bungalow?”

  A look of surprise replaced the blush. “You’re Easton Allard?” This time she looked at him—not as a woman appreciating an attractive man, but as a woman trying to solve a riddle.

  “Last time I checked,” said Easton. Apparently, he had a reputation already. And from the way her brows furrowed, it couldn’t be that great of one. If he didn’t know any better, he would think Samah had somehow called ahead to warn her. He smiled in a way that usually made women smile back, but those soft pink lips didn’t budge.

  “I’m glad you’re finally here,” she said. Her tone wasn’t annoyed or rude, just… curious. “I’ve been wanting to ask you how in the world you convinced my grandmother to rent that shack to you for the summer.”

  Now Easton was confused. He’d been told it was a cozy bungalow set on a hill with three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views of the most gorgeous countryside on Maui, along with views of the ocean.