“Have I helped you at all?” he asked. “At least sometimes?”
“Sometimes.” Her face was puffy and flushed, and she looked older than she had a month ago. Still, she smiled at him. “Enough times.” He wanted to ask if she had forgiven him or just stopped counting the myriad ways he had disappointed her. Maybe they were the same thing.
He wrapped his hand around her upper arm, gently, and felt there the muscle. She was strong, always had been. He imagined her strong arms holding a baby. He imagined her child in his own arms. He thought of the hayloft, of laying a blanket on the hay and showing her kids how to jump onto it from the rafters. He would describe foreign cities to them until their eyes shone with the possibility of travel, and then he’d tell them of the joys of returning home.
His hand dropped to hers and she squeezed it. “When you come back?” she asked.
“Soon,” he promised. “As soon as I can.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am deeply thankful for my cohort at the University of Michigan and my fellow writers there, especially Sterling Schildt and the tireless Kodi Scheer, who has been as much an editor as a friend. I am grateful also to my mentors: Peter Ho Davies, Michael Byers, Eileen Pollack, and Nicholas Delbanco. The ideas for a couple of these stories first appeared in Joyce Carol Oates’s class at Princeton University, and I owe a debt to her, April Alliston, and A.J. Verdelle for their encouragement.
The support I received from the Santa Fe Art Institute, Hedgebrook, Writers Omi at Ledig House, Ragdale, and the Kimmel Harding Nelson Center for the Arts allowed me to complete this book. My wonderful agent, Markus Hoffmann, lent his vision and insight to these stories. And at Hogarth, my editor, Lindsay Sagnette, along with Christine Kopprasch, buoyed me with the ideal combination of editorial precision and deep empathy.
My community in Hawaiʻi continually inspires and humbles me, and my interpretation of the islands is shaped in no small part by my friends and ʻohana on Oʻahu and Maui. Tyler Noesen has left his indelible mark on each of these stories. Moreover, I would not be the writer or person I am without the friendship and support of Emily and the entire Essner clan. Mahalo nui loa.
I have been fortunate that I am descended, on both the Kahakauwila and Loy sides, from a long line of storytellers. These pages are shaped by my grandparents, uncles and aunties, cousins, and parents, as well as the histories they’ve shared with me, and I am in debt to my entire ʻohana, for by generously recounting their stories, they have taught me how to tell stories of my own.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KRISTIANA KAHAKAUWILA, a native Hawaiian, was raised in Southern California. She earned a master’s in fine arts from the University of Michigan and a bachelor’s degree in comparative literature from Princeton University. She has worked as a writer and editor for Wine Spectator, Cigar Aficionado, and Highlights for Children magazines, and taught English at Chaminade University of Honolulu in Hawaiʻi. At present, she is an assistant professor of creative writing at Western Washington University.
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