William refilled my wine glass. After we both took another sip of our wine, he continued.
“One morning, about a week after she died, we heard a noise in the kitchen. We ran in and found the blender running. We turned it off and looked at each other. We wanted to come up with a rational explanation for this, but we had none. Then suddenly Dad squeezed my arm and pointed to the clock on the kitchen wall. It was 8:00 a.m. We both laughed, then cried a bit, and then we looked in the recipe book Mom had left Dad and made ourselves a smoothie before we left the house that day.”
I set my glass down in the sand. “What a story,” I said. “No wonder George feels certain that she is there, waiting for him.”
William nodded. “There were other things, too. Postcards that said ‘I love you’ fell down from shelves, Mom’s favorite song, ‘Happy Talk’ from South Pacific, started playing in the most unlikely places around town, and this little red cardinal kept showing up every time we talked about her.”
I smiled. I knew there had been something special about that little red-headed bird.
“And then there were the butterflies. So many butterflies.”
William was quiet again. I could feel his eyes on me. My eyes welled up when he talked about the butterflies.
“It must have been really tough losing your mom at such a young age,” he said, compassionately.
I nodded. I was glad George had told him my story, so I didn’t have to.
“Did you ever feel her presence after she died?” William asked.
A memory came back to me of an orange butterfly that sat on the same spot in the garden every morning for a whole week, the week after Mom died. I had walked over to it and said hello. Sometimes, I’d tell it what I was thinking about. I felt it was Mom saying hi, that somehow she and I were still communicating. But when I told Dad, he got angry and told me, “Don’t be silly. Your mother is gone and that is that.”
I was overwhelmed by the memories.
“Yes, I think she was there,” I said after a while. I didn’t bother drying the tears I could feel running down my cheeks. “I think she sent me butterflies.”
William’s voice was filled with warmth and empathy. “Mom used to say that butterflies were hellos from the other side,” he said. “She said they symbolized transformation from one way of being to another.”
I nodded, still moved by the memories.
William was quiet for a little while. “But she also used to say that our true mission as human beings is to feel as happy and free as a butterfly while we’re still on this earth.”
I felt a sudden urge to cry. It was like Mom was speaking to me.
A big wave crashed onto the shore and the wind blew the hair away from my face.
We were both looking up at the sky when we suddenly saw two giant lights illuminate the sky, only to disappear without a trace.
I sat up, startled. “What was that?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” William said and shook his head. “But I have a feeling it was a sign.” He paused and smiled. “Maybe it was our moms saying hi.”
I liked that idea. Mom and Aimee, sisters in spirit, letting us know that they’re still there, watching over us.
We continued watching the stars for a while. The giant lights didn’t return.
Moved by the experience, I tucked the blanket closer around my body and turned toward William. “Do you believe there is a God?”
William leaned over to his side and looked at me. “Yes, I actually do.” He sounded almost surprised by his own reply. “However, I don’t believe in the God I learned about in Sunday school, the kind of God that judges us. The God I believe in lives inside our hearts. She only wants the best for us. She wants us to be happy, to live freely, and to enjoy our time on this earth.”
I took a deep breath and contemplated what he had just said.
William added, “To me, God is pure love.”
I almost wanted to cry, just listening to William speak.
“That is the most beautiful way I have ever heard God explained,” I said.
William smiled and rolled onto his back and looked up at the stars.
“And it’s interesting how you refer to God as a woman,” I continued.
William spoke softly. “The source of everything, the one who gave birth to a world, who loves her children unconditionally. That sounds like a woman to me, or at least a predominately feminine energy.”
After a while he turned his head toward me. “What about you, Maya? Do you believe there is a God?”
I was quiet as I pondered the question.
“The God you just explained, that is the kind of God I can believe in. I have a hard time accepting religion. Most people seem to think they have the one and only answer and anything that doesn’t fit into that is considered wrong or a sin. I think the misinterpretation of religion has done so much harm in this world.”
I looked over at William, unsure if I should continue. He nodded, and I took a deep breath and added, “I used to believe in a higher power, then I lost it for a while, but after I came here, it’s like that is all coming back to me. I still struggle with the rational part of it, though. My dad never let me believe in anything, unless I could rationalize, explain, and defend it. But how do we rationalize love, feelings, faith, miracles …?”
William nodded. “We can’t.” He paused before he continued, “I guess that’s why I like to call it the beautiful unexplainable.”
I nodded. I liked that there was a way to describe the unexplainable—by not explaining it.
It was getting chilly. I sat up and William wrapped another blanket around me. When he touched my shoulder, I shivered.
“I don’t want you to get sick,” he said, concerned.
“Thanks, I’m fine.” I smiled. I didn’t want to explain the shivers.
William poured the last of the bottle of wine into our glasses and we sipped quietly while watching the waves glisten under the stars.
I couldn’t help thinking how different William was from any other man I’d ever met. I had to admit that I really liked him, and I had a feeling that he liked me, too. But I wasn’t sure in what way. I was used to men trying to pick me up after the second drink, but he hadn’t tried anything. The fact that he hadn’t made any advances made me feel simultaneously relieved and insecure.
Maybe he just saw me as a friend. Maybe he was back together with that girl in San Francisco that George had mentioned he was taking a break from. I didn’t know what to think or feel. All I knew was that I wished this moment would never end.
Suddenly, a sound came from George’s house. William looked over at the house.
“I better go in and check in on Dad.”
“Of course!” I said, feeling my heart sink. Reluctantly I said, “This has been so lovely, but maybe we should call it a night.”
I didn’t want to leave, but I didn’t want to come across as too eager either.
“Oh, OK. Sure. Tomorrow is a new day,” he said.
Was it just wishful thinking or had there actually been a hint of disappointment in his voice?
William rolled the blankets together and carried the empty bottle and wine glasses as we walked side by side up to the small hedge that separated the two houses.
We smiled at each other in the dark.
“Goodnight, sweet Maya,” he said and gently kissed me on the cheek.
“Goodnight, William,” I said, wanting to kiss him back, but instead I just waved goodbye and walked back to my house.
That night, it was not the ocean I dreamt about.
ISLAND LIFE
The next day I woke up to a knock on my veranda door.
“Hey, Maya, you still alive?”
It was William. Oh no, he mustn’t see me like this. “Just a minute!” I shouted as I ran into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face, quickly applied moisturizer, some mascara and lip balm, and put my messy hair in a bun on top of my head.
I wrapped a sarong a
round me and walked out to meet him. As I passed the clock in the kitchen, I noticed it was 11:30 a.m. Crazy!
William was sitting on the steps and turned around when he heard the screen door open. He smiled brightly and handed me a white paper bag. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Care for some coffee and donuts?”
Last night over dinner I had told him and George about my typical New York breakfast. He promised that he would soon introduce me to the best donut on the island. Apparently that day was today.
“Good morning, you obnoxiously energetic neighbor,” I said and held an arm up over my face, pretending to shield it from the sun while, in fact, I was trying to hide my newly awoken face.
“Dad said you were a morning bird, but he must have mixed you up with someone else,” William teased.
I laughed and sat down on the steps beside him. The coffee smelled heavenly, and the donut was too tempting not to try. I took a bite.
“Yum!” I said and took a big sip of the coffee.
William smiled. “I was thinking. I know you mostly have been chilling in the garden and haven’t properly been introduced to the island yet, so if you don’t have any other plans today, I thought I’d take you sightseeing. What do you say?”
Sightseeing with William? I was thrilled.
“Sounds like a perfect way to spend the day,” I said and took another bite of the donut, trying to play it cool. “When do we leave?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Give me five minutes to get dressed,” I said as I stood up and left him on the porch.
“My kind of gal!” He laughed. “I’ll be in my car.”
While I got dressed, images from last night’s dream flashed through my mind. I blushed just by thinking of them.
“Careful, Maya,” I said to my reflection as I got dressed.
Ten minutes later I walked out the door and headed toward William’s car, wearing shorts, a T-shirt, and flip-flops, with my hair still in a messy bun.
I had quickly packed a beach bag with a towel, sunscreen, and my Aloha Baby bathing suit, which I silently prayed I wouldn’t have to wear.
“You’re looking cute,” William said.
My heart skipped a beat, but then I reminded myself that’s the kind of things friends say to each other. “Thanks! You’re not looking too bad yourself,” I said and jumped into the seat next to him. William laughed. He was wearing jeans, a white T-shirt, and pilot glasses. He looked ridiculously handsome, but I tried not to dwell on that.
A few minutes later we were heading south along the coast in his old open Jeep Wrangler. It was nice not having to drive for once and to be able to just admire the scenery. William clearly knew the road like the back of his hand and drove twice as fast as I would have dared.
“OK, we have three stops today,” he said.
I was curious about what he had planned.
William looked over at me, pretending to hold a microphone with his left hand, speaking with a tour guide voice, “First we’ll eat the best food on the island, then we’ll take in the most breathtaking view, and finally we’ll be going to the best beach on Kaua’i and have ourselves some serious fun.”
For a split second, my mind went back to last night’s dream, but I firmly pushed the memory away.
“Sounds absolutely perfect,” I said and sent him a friendly smile. He smiled back. Yes, definitely friends.
The first thirty minutes we hardly spoke. I was enjoying the view, the wind in my hair, and the sight of his tanned, muscular arm and his hand resting on the steering wheel. He looked very relaxed and happy. William exhibited a different kind of chill than Josh, but he was definitely chill. I could feel his eyes on me sometimes, but when I looked back at him, he looked away.
When we passed Kealia Beach, I tried to see if I could spot Josh, but he was nowhere to be seen. Then William turned his face toward me and smiled, his messy brown curls flying in the wind, and I forgot all about Josh.
We drove through the town of Kapa’a, which took about two minutes, and stopped at a Mexican food truck that was parked on a dirt road alongside the main road.
“The best burritos on the island,” William explained and jumped out of the car.
He seemed to be good friends with the man behind the counter. The two of them talked quickly in Spanish and laughed a lot. Ten minutes later, we were on the road again with burritos in hand.
“I hope you don’t mind eating while driving. We have somewhere we need to be in thirty minutes,” he said and took a big bite of his burrito.
I took a bite of mine too. It was delicious. I had to use a napkin to stop the sauce from running down my cheeks, but that didn’t stop me from taking another big bite.
William looked at me and smiled. “I love a woman with an appetite!”
For a moment I stopped chewing and looked at him, trying to look offended. When I spoke, I still had food in my mouth. “Are you saying that I eat like a pig?”
William threw his head back and laughed. “Ha ha, no! But I am saying that you are not like any other woman I’ve ever met, Maya Williams.” I suddenly saw a spark in his eyes that signaled something more than friendship. But just as my heart was about to make a big jump inside my chest, I reminded myself that he was probably just teasing. After all, I was his cute, funny, and clumsy friend.
After we both had finished our burritos, William reached into the glove compartment, pulled out his cell phone, and made a quick call. I didn’t understand a word of what he said but guessed it was Hawaiian.
“Hawaiian, Spanish, English?” I commented dryly. “Any other languages I should know about?”
William grinned. “French. Tahitian. And a little bit of Italian, but only food-related words.”
“So how come you speak so many languages?” I asked, embarrassed about only speaking English and a little bit of really bad high-school Spanish.
We were cruising farther south. It looked like we were heading toward Lihue Airport.
“As so much else in my life, I owe it to my mom,” William said with that loving look in his eyes. “She always said that if only people could learn to communicate better with each other, a lot of conflicts would be avoided.”
I enjoyed my daily doses of Aimee-wisdom.
“Mom was born and raised in Tahiti and already spoke fluent English, French, and Tahitian, but from the moment she set foot on this island, she decided to learn to speak Hawaiian like a local, out of respect for the natives.”
We passed by a small community that looked like it was inhabited by native Hawaiians. The buildings were smaller and simpler than most of the other houses I’d seen on the island.
I noticed a group of children playing with a ball outside a small worn-down house. An elderly woman was hanging her sheets to dry.
“Mom was a quick learner, and her eagerness to not only learn the language but also the origin and deeper meaning of the words was one of the reasons she ended up winning the trust and respect of the Hawaiians. That, and how she built her company on the principles of the aloha spirit.”
I looked over at William.
“This might sound like a silly question to you, but what exactly do you mean by the aloha spirit?” I asked. “I thought aloha meant hello and goodbye.”
William smiled. “Yes, it means hello and goodbye—and a lot more. Aloha is a way of living and treating each other. Aloha stands for love, peace, compassion, and mercy. The word itself actually means the breath of life.”
“The breath of life,” I repeated. “That is beautiful.”
William smiled and nodded. “The aloha spirit is ingrained in the Hawaiian people and its culture,” he explained. “It is one of the reasons Hawaii is considered paradise on earth by so many. It’s not only about the beauty surrounding us, but also about the friendliness and spirit of our people.”
“This is so interesting. And you’re saying that your mom was leading her companies with the aloha spirit?”
“Yes, of course,” he replied.
“But there is nothing unique with that here in Hawaii. Companies that don’t live by the aloha spirit don’t survive. People won’t work in companies that don’t treat others with kindness, love, and compassion. Customers won’t buy from them, and other local companies won’t do business with them. It’s as simple as that, really.”
I looked down at the bag I had bought at the souvenir shop after my shopping spree. “Live with Aloha,” it said. It made more sense to me now.
We passed by the airport, and a few minutes later we turned into a parking lot, next to a large heliport. Several helicopters were standing on helipads, picking up new passengers while dropping off others.
William parked the car, turned off the engine, and turned toward me with a big smile.
“Ready for the next item on our list?”
I swallowed nervously. I had neither been in a helicopter before nor felt the urge to be in one, but William’s enthusiasm was irresistible, and the sound of the propellers overwhelming, so I just smiled and shouted, “Are we actually doing this?”
William grinned and waved toward one of the helicopters.
The pilot waved back at us, and a few seconds later we dashed out of the car and ran, hunched over, toward the helicopter.
The pilot smiled cheerfully as we climbed in and quickly shook hands, and then he and William gave each other an affectionate hug.
Seated at the front, William in the middle with the pilot to his left and me to his right, we buckled up and put large headsets on.
One minute later the helicopter lifted softly, and suddenly we were high in the air. I didn’t even have time to think about being nervous.
The pilot introduced himself as Kalani. William told me he was the son of the minister that had attended the ceremony on the beach the other day.
“Kalani is a Hawaiian name that means sky,” William explained.
“Very fitting indeed,” I smiled and nodded toward Kalani, who steered the helicopter effortlessly toward the northwest side of the island.
I looked at the landscape below.
William had not exaggerated when he spoke of the most breathtaking views of the island. Soon we flew over waterfalls and canyons, lush jungles, long white beaches, and steep cliffs.
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