by Karina Halle
“Oh, well,” I trail off. “I mean, he was married to my sister. He's family. So of course I might think of him more.”
“And vice versa. Because that man thinks a hell of a lot about you.”
Something flutters in my stomach. I swallow. “What can I say, I'm like his annoying kid sister.”
“Oh no,” she says. “There's nothing sisterly about the way he looks at you.”
More fluttering. A whole nest of birds is taking flight inside me.
“How does he look at me?”
She glances at me over her glasses. “And suddenly you want to know?” She lets out a dry laugh. “Next time, open your eyes a bit bigger and see the whole picture.”
“I don't know what you mean.”
“You will.”
It has to be said. “Whatever it is that you’re trying to get at, don’t forget who he is. Juliet’s husband. My brother-in-law. Death be damned. And that would be—”
“Completely and morally wrong,” she finishes. “I know. And I know you both know it too. Which is why I’m not going to say anything else. No matter what happens, you’re both well aware of the consequences.”
The birds in my stomach have changed course, taking a nose dive. It feels like my heart is dropping with them.
Mercifully, Kate changes subjects, talking about our first luau of the year on Wednesday. It’s last minute and just for the guests, but in time it will get more and more popular. I know Johnny and I will have to hunker down with Charlie, maybe even Dan, and start planning the menu. There’s a lot to think about and when it comes to this traditional Hawaiian feast, I’m a noob.
Even so, the whole ride back to Moonwater I can’t help think about what Kate was getting at. As much as I like to pretend that my feelings for Logan are mild and easily squashed, a crush more than anything, the fact that she’s picking up on something says a lot. And it says even more that it’s coming from his side. If he were anyone else to me, I would be grilling her on everything about him, wanting every last detail: how does he look at me? What do you think it means? Has he said anything?
But he’s Logan. And that’s that. Anything else would be morally wrong.
Anything else would have consequences.
So I bury it.
Forget it.
And try to move on.
* * *
The days leading up to the luau crawled by. I didn’t see Logan much, which is both a good and a bad thing, other than him checking up on me as soon as I got back from the hospital. But even though he kept to himself, he passed down orders to Johnny and Charlie to not let me work. I protested, of course, and kept showing up at the start of my shift anyway. And they kept pushing me out of the kitchen—gently, I might add—telling me I needed to heal.
To be honest, I was kind of grateful for it. My body really did hurt from the accident and my mind was having a hard time slipping back into reality. But it wasn’t the trauma of nearly being swept away that had my brain all up in knots, it was what happened with Logan.
What could have happened. Kate told me to open my eyes, and now I was looking back on everything, dissecting every word, every touch, every gaze. Could Logan have feelings for me in the ways I never let myself imagine? How different are our interactions now compared to that moment we first met?
And like clockwork I would remind myself that nothing good could come of this. And in turn it made me want to think about him even more.
Tonight, though, it’s the luau. I finally got back to work yesterday and spent the whole day with Johnny and Charlie preparing the feast. We’ve got eleven guests signed up, way smaller than your average luau, but at least it’s something we can handle. All the side dishes are ready to go with only some reheating at the time of the feast, and of course there’s the whole kalua pig that we’re going to cook underground.
That’s all Johnny’s job. I’m watching and learning but he’s the pro here. My contribution was making traditional poi, which is basically mashed up taro root until it has a pudding consistency. I wanted so badly to sweeten the goop up, even with something like agave syrup, but Johnny chastised me for the thought. The purple white goop must be eaten as it is—bland and tasteless.
There’s an electricity crackling in the air tonight, and it’s not just the dark clouds that have gathered at the Na Pali Coast, burying the sunset and reducing it to streams of orange and red. All of us are helping out and a few of our on-call waitresses are on duty.
The grassy area beside the restaurant has been transformed into a tiki-styled paradise, with lit torches around the tables. There’s even a small band and a hula dancer.
Johnny, Charlie and I dish out the food, Big J cutting into the roasted pig with a pride I’d never seen before, and Daniel’s special Mai Tai punch starts making the rounds. The live music starts, giving us a moment to relax in the background, the three of us taking a seat at a small fold-out table behind the food as we watch.
It’s pretty magical. Not just because it’s my first luau, but because I finally feel at home. Daniel comes by and gives me a glass of the punch as the band plays a quiet number (oh who am I kidding, they’re all quiet numbers) and the hula dancer sways to the music. One of the members reads out the interpretation of the dance and I’m lost in the girl’s movement and grace.
“Do you know what the band is called?” Charlie whispers in my ear. “Three men and a Ukulele.” He pauses. “Wait, you’re old enough to remember that Tom Selleck film, right?”
I laugh. “Are you?”
“I thought it was Ted Danson,” Johnny says as Daniel hands him his glass. “Hey Danny Boy, you ever watch Cheers? Did Sam Malone make you want to be a bartender?”
“Are you kidding me?” Daniel says, thumbing the collar of his ever-present Hawaiian shirt, “I’m the tropical version of him.”
“Pretty sure the tropical version of Sam Malone is Tom Cruise in Cocktail,” Charlie says, taking a sip of the drink. He coughs, his face going red. “Jesus, Dan. What the hell did you put in here?”
Dan shrugs. “Figured the drunker the guests got, the more they’d think the night was a success. You know, in case things went to shit.” He looks over his shoulder at one of the tables where Logan is standing, glass in hand, and talking to the guests. “And I may have given Logan an extra lethal dose or two. Figured the habut could loosen up a bit.”
Charlie and Johnny burst out into gleeful laughter, like wicked schoolchildren, while my eyes are still focused solely on Logan.
He looks nothing short of amazing, actually. I wish I could say otherwise, but at this point I’m starting to realize that he could wear a potato sack and look as hot as fuck. And hell, I’m imagining that potato sack right now, the way it would show off his muscular thighs, and I’m practically squirming in my seat.
Fuck it. I’m owning this feeling. I have an even bigger sip of my drink, enjoying the fruity burn as it goes down, and commit myself to not giving a shit tonight. For once I just want to feel everything but the shame.
Logan isn’t wearing a potato sack of course, but a white short-sleeved shirt that’s unbuttoned enough to show a hint of his chest, and knee-length black shorts. His hair is pushed off his forehead, his beard trimmed, his skin a golden tan. I should be looking anywhere else, but I can’t tear my eyes off of him.
He looks up, his gaze meeting mine for the first time tonight. I can only stare right back as seconds pass between us, the connection a livewire, palpable. Even with the distance and the people between us, his eyes seem to crackle and flame like the torches in the background.
“Aloha kaua,” Johnny says, his voice making me jump.
I tear my eyes off of Logan and glance at Johnny. “Huh?” I quickly sneak a peek at Logan again but now his back is turned to me. I can still feel his gaze, like it’s branded me on the inside.
“Aloha kaua is Hawaiian,” Johnny says as he leans into me. His dark eyes are glossy, his cheeks pink. I think the punch is hitting him hard too. “It means h
ow are we?”
“How are we?”
“Yes. Instead of checking up on just you, it means how are we, how is our relationship. It’s about strengthening the connection from people.”
“Oh.” I raise my drink to him. “Well I think we, as you and I, are doing just fine tonight.”
He raises his drink and clinks it against mine. “I have to agree. And how are you and everyone else?”
I shrug. “No complaints at the compound.”
Johnny takes a gulp of his drink and coughs. “I just wanted to check in. Everyone really likes you, you know. We don’t want you to leave. You are ohana now.”
I look at him in surprise, my heart rattling in my chest. Why would he even ask this? The thought is unbearable. “Why would I leave?”
“Because sometimes people move to Hawaii thinking it’s all going to be one way and it turns out to be another. Island life isn’t for everyone. Island fever is a real thing. You’ve been here a month, that’s past the vacation period. Usually around this time, people decide if the spirit of aloha is really for them.”
I laugh. “Well I’m not even at my probation period,” I remind him. “I’m sure Logan would love it if I left before three months but I’m not giving him that satisfaction.”
“Are you kidding me? The habut will never let you go.”
That phrase alone feels like a warm bath.
“I don’t know about that…”
“Little wahine,” Johnny says with a big smile. “You’re one of the best we’ve had. That dish you added to the menu, the kimchi calzone, is a hit. Logan knows your worth as much as the rest of us. And…”
“And what?” I ask, twisting around to face him better.
“I think you’re good for him. Even if he might not know it himself.”
I let out an awkward snort. “Yeah right.”
“Nah, I mean it, aye.” He nudges me with his elbow and nods his head at Logan who is drinking and talking to Daniel over by the pig. “I know he’s a grump but he’s better. He’s been better ever since you showed up. You’re a breath of fresh air.”
“There’s plenty of fresh air here,” I mumble. “We live in fucking paradise.” And the minute I say that, a warm breeze floats past, smelling of one of my favorite flowers, plumeria. I have the urge to go gather a bunch and put them all over my hair.
“And yet he hasn’t been able to appreciate it. His heart is broken and it was making him sick. They have a saying in Hawaiian you know…”
“Another one?”
“We have many. This one is pono. Which is making right your wrongs and practicing forgiveness. Once an apology has been made, it becomes your responsibility to forgive. If a grudge is held instead, it becomes kaumaha, a burden, and it will make you ill at heart.”
I swallow hard, staring at Logan again. “I don’t see what that has to with Logan.”
“Sometimes you can wrong yourself. Sometimes you don’t honor your own truth. Sometimes you forgive but the person isn’t alive anymore to accept it.”
I stare at Johnny for a few moments, weighing my words before I say them. “I don’t think you really know the real Logan.”
“Do you?” he counters. His eyes are glittering, trying to tell me something but I can’t quite figure it out.
“No I suppose I don’t,” I concede, wanting to drop the subject now.
Johnny just nods. “It’s a magical night. Breathe it in. Appreciate it. See people in a new light. The torches illuminate so much more than the surface. A luau is about thanks and celebration of family. Give thanks for being here. Celebrate your ohana. Your family.” He pauses. “And remember Shephard is your family too. Not just because of Juliet.” He finishes the rest of his drink. “More punch?”
“Yes please,” I tell him, handing him my cup. As Johnny goes off, I look around for Charlie, wondering where he’s gone. I spot him in the parking lot talking to Kate about something heated. Kate’s throwing up her arms like he’s said something that’s gotten under her skin, which is a rarity, and Charlie is rolling his eyes.
I don’t mean to spy, though I do mean to grill Kate when we head back to the unit later.
Eventually Johnny comes back with more punch and we have a few more cups until it’s time to serve dessert. Despite all of us feeling tipsy, and now Charlie and Kate having totally disappeared, we manage to get out the buffet of mango and rice pudding, lilikoi cheesecake, and coconut pie.
As the night wears on, everyone is drunk and happy, guests included. Dan was right about making that punch extra potent. Johnny, Dan, Jin, and Logan put everything away after the guests leave, so the girls can relax. I have a few more drinks with Nikki and our Saturday waitress, Lucia, sprawled out on the coarse, spongey grass, tiki torches wavering in the breeze. Above us the sky is dark and open, the stars a dusting of sparkling sugar.
“Where is Kate?” I ask, rattling the ice in my cup.
Nikki laughs, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “Do you even have to ask?”
“Do you see Charlie?” Lucia asks wryly. “No. Put two and two together.”
“In other words, don’t head back to your apartment so soon,” Nikki says with a smirk.
“Figures,” I mutter. Fighting leads to fucking. Well, for everyone but me.
“Hey, can I ask you guys a question,” I ask after a few minutes, my voice low as Daniel takes in some of the chairs back to the restaurant.
“Sure, what?” Nikki asks.
“After my sister died…was there ever anyone else? I mean, with Logan?”
Nikki and Lucia exchange a furtive glance.
“What?” I ask because that glance sure as hell meant something. “One of you?”
“No, no,” Nikki quickly exclaims. “Not us. Nothing like that anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
There! Another sneaky glance.
“You guys! Come on. I need to know. I won’t say anything.”
Lucia sighs. “Well I don’t live here, so I don’t have much to lose. And anyway it isn’t a big deal. A girl Charlotte used to work here. She and Logan went out a few times.”
“Oh my god,” I exclaim, feeling somehow both jealous and angry. “When?”
“Maybe six months ago?” Nikki muses.
“Did he cheat on Juliet with her?”
“What?” Nikki asks, scrunching up her nose. “Cheat on her? Logan would never do that.”
How badly I want to tell her otherwise.
“No, it was short, maybe a few dates. Charlotte had a mad crush on him hey, and finally he gave in,” Lucia says with a laugh. She gives me a quick shrug. “I don’t know. I think he kind of needed it. It was really hard seeing him after she died.”
“Like he was actually upset?”
Nikki frowns. “What kind of person do you think Logan is?”
What kind of person? Once again, I think I have no idea.
We stay there on the lawn for a while longer, talking about Lucia’s newest boyfriend in Hanalei, a lifeguard, and some live music show playing at a lounge in Kapaa’a tomorrow. But all I can think about is Logan. Now this Charlotte woman. It’s completely possible that this was the person he cheated on Juliet with, especially if she worked here. Nikki and Lucia might think they know Logan, but I’m pretty sure they aren’t privy to anything important. Not like that. Juliet had a hard-enough time confiding in me, I’m sure she would go out of her way to make sure no one else here knew what was really going on.
The night is balmy and the clear sky is doing something to my head. Or maybe it’s the copious amounts of punch. When Nikki and Lucia decide to leave, I wander past the restaurant and down to the beach, passing a plumeria tree. I shove my nose into the center of the white flowers and breathe in deep, then start plucking them off the tree. I know it’s wrong and I should only pick up the ones that have fallen to the ground, but I’m drunk and the idea of making my own lei or decorating my body with them is extremely appealing.
Plus the smell is s
o intoxicating. It’s just as sweet and heady as the air here, a smell that makes me really feel I’m in paradise and has an immediate relaxing effect.
“Duplicitous,” Logan says from beside me, his voice low and rough.
I jump, the flowers flying up and out of my hands and twirling to the sand below. “Jesus, way to sneak up on me!” I cry out, hand at my chest.
He stares at me, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. He looks different, his eyes less hard, his face more open. The half-moon illuminates his face just enough for him to look both mysterious and devastatingly handsome.
Damn him.
“Sorry,” he says, quickly bending over to pick up a flower. He holds it out in front of me, then his hand goes over my right shoulder and he slides the flower behind my ear, his fingers rough as they graze the tip of my lobe. I can’t help but close my eyes, my breath stilling inside me. Even the waves seem to slow down, the surf echoing in my ears. “The right side means you’re not taken.”
“Well I’m not,” I say, but my words come out in a whisper. I slowly open my eyes again and he is still there, this beautiful, troubled, strange man that no one seems to know and everyone thinks they’ve figured out.
“No, you aren’t.” His voice drops a register, sounding almost melancholy.
“What did you mean? You said duplicitous. Just now. When you scared the shit out of me.”
“The flowers are not what they seem,” he says, finally breaking our heated gaze. Thank god, because that was getting a bit intense. My heart is still pounding so hard I’m afraid he might hear it over the waves.
He runs his hand along the flowers and their dark, shiny leaves. “Plumeria, Tiare, Frangipani. No matter what name we give them, they remain a lie.”
I peer at him closely. “Are you drunk?”
He cocks a brow. “What makes you say that?”
“Well I’m drunk and we’ve all been drinking Dan’s potent punch. Plus you’re talking about lying flowers, so there’s that.”
“I’ll have you know I’m not drunk,” Logan says but he kind of slurs it. And it’s kind of adorable. “And I don’t have to be drunk to be talking about lying flowers. Here, smell.” He plucks one off the tree and steps even closer, the distance between us tightening up into intimate levels. He raises the center of the flower to my nose and I don’t have to lean far to stick my nose in. I take a deep breath just as I had been earlier when I was hitting the blooms up like I was huffing paint.