Aloha With Love

by Terence Brody

  “My amends to you.” He dropped to one knee in front of her, reaching out for her hand. “I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

  Jenna clicked the box shut. She took a step back, away from Darren. He could not be serious. “You are unbelievable.”

  Before she could elaborate on what a shady, weaseling, opportunistic jerk he was, Barrington cut in. “What is happening here?”

  The sarcasm in his voice had been replaced by something between bewilderment and irritation, with a healthy dose of impatience. Jenna could relate.

  Darren rebounded up to his feet in a blink. Clearly, this was not going as he’d expected. “Mr. Barrington, please indulge me—”

  Unfortunately, he was barking up the wrong tree. Barrington’s eyes narrowed. He put a heavy hand down on top of the unfinished pile of paperwork on top of the car, as if to say, “we’re in the middle of business.” The unsaid words were loud enough to cause all four Maxwells to take a step backward. Ethan even looked up from his game.

  “You’re proposing to the sunny girl?” Barrington’s voice was incredulous, unapproving. “During a deal?”

  Sunny. “What did you call me?” The words rushed out of Jenna’s mouth before she could stop them, and now her voice was just as hard and aggravated as Barrington’s. Her left foot stepped forward, bringing her one step closer to the imposing man—and one step farther from Darren.

  Darren, quick to de-escalate, pivoted, but the look on his face was anything other than confident. He spread his hands between his client and his would-be bride and blinked too fast, obviously trying to figure out the right thing to say to keep both his commission and his proposal from falling off the proverbial table.

  “Uh, Jenna, sweetheart, I thought this would be a romantic way to start our new partnership,” he said, lamely. “And restart the rest of our life together.”

  “We don’t have a relationship anymore,” Jenna snapped back. She was still angry, but the bile in her throat was receding, being washed away by a strange new sense of calm. Darren’s posturing had taken him out of her line of sight and given her a much better view: Aunt May’s house. Her house. She let the image sink in, let herself truly see the house as a home and not just a project for the first time. Thinking back through the past several weeks, she thought about every nail, every piece of tile and strip of grout she’d lovingly poured into May’s home. Every new cabinet, every new swatch of paint. She’d spent so long chasing the dream of designing new, sustainable homes, that never had she considered how much joy was to be found in restoring them. Giving things a second chance was more sustainable than all the solar panels and aesthetic “green” touches she could dream up—it made them evergreen.

  This is it, she realized. This is home. My second act.

  She caught her father’s eyes, and he gave her the only approval she needed—a shaka sign, a wink, and a nod.

  Darren was less supportive. “But we could,” he wheeled, trying to redirect her attention back to the closed pen case in her hand. He leaned in closer to whisper suggestively in her ear. “We could be partners in every way.”

  Jenna was firm. “No, we can’t, Darren.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I didn’t realize until just now, but I already have a partner.”

  Darren looked shellshocked as she handed him back the case and turned to Barrington. “Mr. Barrington, my apologies for Darren bringing you all the way out to Hawaii for nothing.” She bit her lip and dared a glance at her sister. “Sarah, I will find some other way to help you get your dream. I promise.” She looked to Emma. “You too, Emma.”

  Sarah steeled her back and gave a nod. Emma took her mother’s hand and nodded too. Jenna would have laughed if she wasn’t busy mustering up all of her courage for what she had to say next. She lifted her chin, channeled her best Patti Murray—hoped her faraway mentor didn’t disown her for this—and delivered her final decision.

  “The deal is off,” she told Barrington. “I am not selling this property.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Jenna, please.” The panic was evident in Darren’s voice. This was so not going to plan.

  Barrington’s voice deepened into thunder. “I could so sue you for this,” he threatened.

  Jenna sucked in a deep breath, held it, thought about Aunt May, and let the air in her mouth loose. She inhaled the scent of saltwater, filled her lungs with sunshine. “Yes, you could. But I would encourage you to stick around a few days. Sit on the beach. Let the waves lap at your toes. Maybe do a little snorkeling and let the South Pacific wash all the pompous off you. And then go back to the mainland a little sunnier of a human being.”

  “Go, Aunt Jenna!” Emma cheered from the sidelines.

  The unsympathetic businessman wasn’t having it. “I’ll have your firm shut down.”

  Jenna opened her mouth right as her father’s large hand clamped down on Barrington’s shoulder. Orville Barrington might command a room, but he was just a small fish in Jim Burke’s very deep ocean—and nobody threatened one of the Burke girls in their father’s presence and got away with it.

  “Aloha,” Jim said. “What do you say we go to my place and I’ll crack open a coconut for us to sip on.”

  The invitation didn’t end with a question mark. Barrington dared a glance at Jim’s muscular arms and withered. Clearly he preferred to dose out his intimidating persona, but wasn’t equipped to be on the receiving end of the same.

  “Oh, thank you,” he replied, stammering just a tad, “but I should probably be going. It would appear our business here is concluded.”

  “Another time,” Jim added for good measure. “Besides, I don’t think Ms. Murray would take too kind to knowing her star designer was threatened on her own land. Bad for business, that sort of thing.”

  He removed his hand and winked at Jenna as Darren escorted the rattled man to their car. After shutting Barrington inside the rental, Darren turned back to Jenna. He lifted a finger and made to say something, but Jenna beat him to it by picking up the papers from the hood of Mike’s car and tearing them in half. Whatever Darren might have said died unspoken on his tongue, and he shook his head and slid into the driver’s seat.

  The entire family watched as Darren put the car in reverse and escaped out of the driveway. Then, they all turned to stare at the house.

  “What now, sis?” Sarah reached over and gave Jenna’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

  Jenna’s heart fluttered—half excitement, half nerves—and she started toward the house. She wasn’t sure what came next, not exactly, but whatever it was, it was waiting for her inside Aunt May’s.

  

  She found Ben coming around a corner in the living room, carrying a vase with a large tropical flower arrangement. He looked at Jenna, and though she’d expected him to be wearing the same stiff poker face she’d seen him in before, the expression on his face was soft, almost eager. He looked so bashful Jenna almost forgot she’d been angry with him.

  Almost.

  “I don’t know if you saw,” she said, “but I just sent Darren and Barrington packing. And I tore up the contract.”

  Ben smirked, but kept his tone even. “Didn’t mean to overhear, but I was watching the whole thing through the window.”

  “Eavesdropper,” Jenna teased, letting her guard down a fraction.

  “I like to think of it as hyper-observant,” Ben shot back.

  Shaking her head, Jenna allowed herself to take in the room around her. Though they’d been mostly finished before, the renovation was now as complete on the inside as it was on the outside. Ben had even staged the rooms with beautiful, hand carved furniture and a charming rustic beach chic décor. The empty rooms were now full—with warmth, with furnishings. With life. Her eyes stung, leaked.

  Ben reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. “This is it right here,” he said, showing her the tear. “This is the look I wanted to see on your face.”

  Jenna smoothed away the dampnes
s under her eyes and sniffled. More tears fell, and Ben pulled a clean rag from his pocket and dabbed them away, too.

  His touch was gentle. “Liquid emotion. The best kind.”

  She managed a smile. How come no one had ever told her how heavy happiness could be? Still, the memory of who she had been, and what she had told herself, the day she’d lost her pitch and Darren had broken up with her over lunch hadn’t changed entirely. The budding young architect who’d worked so hard to emulate her mentor was still inside. “You’re not supposed to cry at work,” she sniffed. “And since you’re still working, I’m still considering this our project.”

  Ben shook his head and laughed. “But that’s it exactly, isn’t it? You told me you live for the first impression a job makes on a client. Well, that was my wish, too, for the first time you walked in here.”

  He was right. She had told him that. She’d told Ben that look was what made it all worthwhile—when a client walked into a finished job and wiped away a few tears of happiness. Those were the moments she lived for, the ones that made her do what she did.

  “It’s more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. Outside and in.” Jenna looked up at Ben, at his blue eyes and dimples and stubborn but loveable face. “But I don’t understand. Why did you do all this when you thought we would be tearing it all down?”

  Ben put his arm around her shoulder and led her farther into the house. “I figured Aunt May paid for the job to be done right. I had to finish the house, even if the bulldozers were on their way. And, because I owe you an apology.”

  Jenna wanted to argue about the bulldozers but resisted the urge. Instead, she quirked an eyebrow and color bloomed in Ben’s cheeks. He lifted a hand and ran his fingers through his dirty-blond hair, looking sheepish.

  “The floors,” he explained. “It wasn’t my call to bring in the hardwood. I should have discussed it with you. We’ve been working together, but this is your house—your budget—and I should have been more respectful of that, instead of making assumptions on my own.” He took her hand and pressed it between his, as he stared into her eyes. Sincere, genuine swirled inside the sunburst around his pupil. “I’m sorry. Truly.”

  Two little words, so small and yet, so important. Even the best of partners had disagreements, opportunities to apologize. The important part wasn’t the argument, it was overcoming it and finding a way forward—together.

  That, Jenna considered as she stared at the floor at her feet, and the hardwood floors do look amazing. Perhaps she could have been a little more open-minded, too—and a little less focused on her budget. After all, she didn’t want to end up like Orville Barrington. The thought made her smile. She’d come close, hadn’t she? Saving a few bucks on flooring over the undeniable beauty—and sustainability—of the real thing.

  “Thank you,” she said, accepting Ben’s apology. “And you were right,” she added. “The hardwood looks amazing.”

  Ben winked. “Told you.”

  “But how did you do all this? Forty-eight hours ago, you were packing up to go—and you’re just a one man crew. This—” She took another look around. “This is a miracle.”

  “Small island, big miracles,” Ben agreed. “Everyone here loved Aunt May. Loves you, too, and your dad and sister. So I called in all the favors I could, rounded up anyone willing to lend a hand, and we got her done. I wanted you to see her like this, really see her, even if it was just once.”

  “I do.” Jenna did. She touched Ben’s shoulder and then stepped away, moving through the rooms. All the spaces she’d loved so much as a girl flooded her heart with joy. If only May could see it now, see how beautiful her house looked and know how much love the island had put into it. How much love they had for her and her home.

  Jenna paused in the living room, taking in the view of the ocean through a large window in the eastern facing wall—crystal blue sea, powder blue sky, and vibrant green palms.

  “You even gave me my whale window,” she said. My whale window. “You know, I never thought this about May’s house until I walked in here today, but you made this a home I could see myself living in someday.”

  Ben shook his head. “We—we—made this a home.”

  Jenna’s eyebrow lifted at the use of the plural pronoun and Ben laughed. “Even if I do have to have the furniture back in a few days.”

  “All rented?”

  “All except one.”

  As if on cue, Jenna’s father rounded the corner, carrying his finished, gleamingly polished kou wood coffee table. It was magnificent. The wood gleamed and the hibiscus and ivy carved on the legs seemed almost alive.

  “Oh, Dad,” Jenna gasped. “You finished it. It’s gorgeous.”

  “Yes, it is,” Jim agreed with a laugh. He set the table in the empty spot directly under the whale window and stepped back, beaming, and winked at Ben. “What do you think, Ben? Fits just like it was made to go there, doesn’t it?”

  “Perfect.”

  Jenna caught on. “So you were in on this little conspiracy, Dad?”

  “Oh, from the very beginning,” Ben confirmed. “He was one of the favors I called in.”

  “The first one,” Jim Burke corrected. He gave Jenna a hug, held her for a moment, and then released her, nudging her just a teensy bit in Ben’s direction as he turned to go. “I’m going to go make sure what’s-his-name and the Big Kahuna developer are on their way to the airport.”

  The dried spots Jenna’s tears had left on her skin cracked as she broke into laughter. She’d seen her father grieve, and she’d seen him sad and even angry, but there was nothing better than seeing him in his truest form—happy and full of life.

  “So, what changed your mind out there?” Ben asked when they had the room to themselves again.

  What had changed her mind? Jenna wasn’t sure. There had been many things that had contributed to her change of heart, if she was willing to call it that, but one thing stuck out in particular.

  “Something my Aunt May said to me about being with people who cherish me for who I am, not for what I can do for them. My whole life, I think I’ve been trying to be that other person. Someone I’m not, not really. Trying to earn their love instead of just opening my arms to the people who already love me.”

  Ben moved in closer. Jenna felt heat against her back where his arm encircled her. “And who already loves you?” he asked.

  Jenna looked up into his bright, Hawaiian sky blue eyes and studied the little flecks of gold circling his pupils. “My Aunt May was one, and my dad and sister. I know my family cares for me like that.”

  “Anyone else?”

  Jenna lifted her arms and clasped her hands around Ben’s neck, drawing him toward her. “Ben, even though I gave up on you, you didn’t give up on this old house.” She pulled him closer. “Or on me.”

  Ben lowered his head and their foreheads touched. His lips brushed against hers. “Never.”

  Jenna thought about teasing him. She thought about reminding him of all the ups and downs, the arguments, the bruised egos and busted thumbs. But she didn’t. Jenna took one more look inside the paradise of Ben’s eyes and then pressed her lips against his.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Three Months Later

  The dining room that had once belonged to Aunt May was full of the mouthwatering aromas of coconut and lemon, and the wide open rooms were full of light, love, and family. Jenna sat on the newly built back porch, watching the bright blue sky deepen into brilliant hues of crimson and amber as the sun set over the horizon. The view was much the same as it had been when she’d sat on this porch with May as a girl, but the feeling was different now. Now, Jenna was home.

  “I can’t believe you ever thought of tearing this place down,” Ben teased as he joined her on the porch. He sat in the chair beside her and reached down to lovingly pat the wooden plank at his feet. “Poor old gal really dodged a bullet on that one.”

  This had become a familiar jest over the past couple of months, usually at
particularly beautiful moments—sunrises, sunsets, and midnight trips out to stare at the starry sky over the water on the horizon. Teasing Jenna must have been a line item in May’s renovation budget that wasn’t quite spent.

  “I already told you, I never wanted to tear the house down,” Jenna retorted playfully. “Just took me a while to come around to keeping her is all. Sort of like you.”

  Ben feigned offense. “Touche.”

  Sarah and Emma emerged through the back door, Jim hot on their heels. Both women were carrying trays heaped with finger foods and traditional Hawaiian desserts—crab cakes and sweet ’n’ sour meatballs, and pineapple upside down cake, haupia cupcakes, and fruit kabobs.

  “Hope you guys are hungry!” Sarah set the trays on the small outdoor dining table, swatting away her father’s hand before it could snatch a crab cake. Jim grumbled and retreated back inside, no doubt to root amongst the cooking scraps in the kitchen. “Dad’s on the prowl. Better get it while it’s hot.”

  Jenna and Ben both reached forward. Ben quickly dispatched a crab cake while Jenna opted for one of the fragrant haupia cupcakes. She unwrapped the pastry and took a healthy bite of the creamy coconut treat. Still warm from the oven, the cupcake filled her mouth with flavors she hadn’t experienced since she was a girl. She moaned her appreciation to the chef, and stuffed the rest of the cake in her mouth, then licked a stray dollop of frosting from her finger and gave her sister a thumbs up.

  “Actually,” Sara returned, drawing the word out. She crinkled her nose coyly at her daughter. “Emma made the haupia. Not sure where it comes from, but it would appear my girl’s got a knack for baking.”

  “Oh my—” Jenna managed around a mouthful of creamy cupcake.

  “—goodness,” Ben finished, swallowing down the last of his cupcake.

  Emma grinned. “I learned from the best chef I know. My mom.”

  The look on her niece’s face was even sweeter than her cupcake, and Jenna felt the impact in her chest. Somewhere in all this, Sarah and Emma had found their way back to one another as mom and daughter, and Jenna was so grateful. Even Ethan had been spending more time with the family—though his trusty handheld video game console was never far behind. Baby steps.