by Jane Peart
Childhood was gone and with it her childhood friends, each taking his or her own path, leading to individual destinies. What would become of them all?
Jana thought about Bayard, what Edith had told her about him and Vinnie Albright. She remembered his kisses and what he had said that last night—“I’ll never forget our time together”—and she thought about the gift he had wanted to give her, the lovely shell pin with the pearl.
After he was gone, Jana had rarely heard from him. There were no impassioned love letters to keep alive the flame that had briefly flared between them. Perhaps it had burned brightly for a moment in time and quickly flickered out.
Jana examined her own reasons for being caught up in that fleeting romantic interlude. Deep down she had never really believed anything would come of it. Perhaps Bayard could not help himself. Through Edith, Jana had always heard of Bayard’s many romantic escapades. Every vacation that he was home, on his bureau were letters, a new framed picture of still another young lady he was courting.
She could explain her own attraction to Bayard. His easy charm was very appealing, and he had a way with words, an ability to make you feel you were the only person in the room—for a while. What girl would not be flattered?
However, in her heart of hearts Jana understood that someone like Bayard could never give her what she longed for—an enduring love, devotion, faithfulness. He wasn’t capable of that kind of love. Maybe he realized that to Jana he would have to offer something more than he could give.
Jana truly believed that for some people, there is only one deep, passionate love in a lifetime. Whether that love is fulfilled or unrequited, the memory of such a love will give sweetness and strength to all one’s days. That’s the only kind she wanted, the kind she would wait to have.
Slowly the sun lowered, turning the sea to a gray-blue polished glass. It was time for her to leave, go back up to the house. She only wished she could feel happier about Edith.
The day of Edith’s wedding was perfect in the only way one can be in Hawaii. A soft ocean breeze wafted up gently, stirring the flower-scented air. The ranch could have been a stage setting. On the lawn, an expanse of green grass was like a velvety carpet rolled out from the house. White folding chairs had been set in semicircular rows before a flower-decked trellis, where the wedding was to take place. All through the trees that lined the driveway, decorated paper lanterns were hung to be lit after sunset. By noon the musicians began arriving, settling themselves on the platform stand, tuning their instruments in preparation for playing traditional wedding music during the ceremony and providing a background of island music for the reception that would follow. Colonel Preston had hired a well-known vocalist to sing some of the most popular songs, to the accompaniment of the soft strumming of guitar and ukulele.
In the house, servants moved quickly and quietly on the main floor, moving in trained competence as they arranged long refreshment tables, placed the floral centerpieces, polished the crystal glasses. Even though this was their young mistress’ wedding party, their efficiency was unaffected by the special importance of the occasion, as Preston Ranch had held many grand fetes, had entertained royalty, both Hawaiian and European.
Upstairs, in contrast, was all hustle and bustle. Edith had invited Akela and Jana to come to the ranch to dress. The other bridesmaids—Katherine Amory, Greg’s sister; Maevis Latham, one of Edith’s suitemates at the Virginia school she attended; and Vinnie Albright, Edith’s roommate—were staying in one of the guest cottages and would dress there.
Jana was glad of that. She’d had about all she could stand of the fluttery threesome from the mainland. Katherine Amory was very much like her brother—a cool blond with an aloof manner. Maevis was sweet but rather dull, the perfect foil for Edith’s vivacious personality. What other type could have put up with such competition? Vinnie Albright was another matter. Jana was surprised at the sharp twinge of jealousy she felt when she was introduced. She grudgingly had to admit that the vivid brunette was extremely pretty. She had a witty tongue and a poise that could only come from a certain eastern shore background. Jana could see why she would be attractive to someone like Bayard.
At the prenuptial festivities, Jana had tried to avoid both of them. That hadn’t proved difficult. Bayard had also seemed to be avoiding her.
Was he embarrassed or uncomfortable? That was his problem, she told herself. In a way, it made her feel superior. She was proud that she could handle an awkward situation with more grace than he could.
Bayard and Greg were occupying one of the guest cottages, and so when Jana had arrived at the ranch, she had gone through the house and upstairs without encountering either. As she reached the top of the steps, she could hear her friend’s laughter ringing out, and Akela’s softer voice. Unbidden, a lump rose in her throat. This would be the last time the three of them would be together in the same way. After today nothing would ever be the same. Determined not to let any feelings of sadness overshadow what should be a shining moment for Edith, Jana winked back tears. Just then Edith had come running barefoot down the hall.
She had greeted Jana enthusiastically with a hug and pulled her along by the hand to her bedroom. “You must see my gown!”
Gazing at the beautiful dress hanging from the armoire, Jana had given Edith the reaction she wanted. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful!”
Edith’s usual high spirits today were at their peak—sometimes her tendency to dissolve into giggles bordered dangerously on the brink of hysteria. Meipala’s expression was concerned, her dark eyes worried, as she hovered anxiously. Jana, always sensitive to undercurrents, was aware that her friend was teetering on doing something reckless. She had the wild thought that maybe Edith would dash out of the room, out to the stables, get on her horse, and ride off. She quickly thrust that possibility away. She gave Akela a warning glance, and they both tried to exert a little calm.
“It’s only natural to feel nervous,” Akela began as they all sat on Edith’s bed, enjoying the jasmine tea and thin ginger cookies Meipala had left on a tray before going downstairs.
“Why should I be nervous?” demanded Edith, tossing her head. “I absolutely adore Greg, and he adores me! We are going to be divinely happy!”
And why shouldn’t they be? Jana asked herself. No two people were starting out together with more potential for happiness—they had youth, wealth, health. Why this nagging feeling that Edith’s expectations were too high for her not to be disillusioned or disappointed?
Jana hoped this wouldn’t happen, prayed it wouldn’t. Edith had been so caught up in the elaborate preparations for the extravagant wedding—picking out the “exactly right” engraved invitations, selecting her china, her silver, the fittings for her trousseau—she’d had no time to consider what followed: the reality of living with another person for the rest of her life, day after day, year after year. Was the man she was marrying right for her? Jana still had her doubts. Jana could also not help wondering what was going through Greg Amory’s mind at this point.
Meipala’s head peered into the bedroom. “Time to get ready, girls.”
They made a scramble to uncurl themselves from their perches on the bed. Akela and Jana left Edith to the ministrations of her old nurse and went into the adjoining bedroom.
“I hope—I hope she’s doing the right thing,” Jana whispered.
At the tone of doubt in Jana’s voice, Akela’s dark eyes widened. “She seems to be very much in love.”
“I know, but—” Jana hesitated. “I wish I felt more sure.”
“Tutu says that only the two people involved know. Everyone else looks on the outside—they know their hearts.”
“It’s easier for you, Akela. You and Pelo. You’ve grown up together, practically in the same family—you have the same kind of childhood, the same traditions, and you want the same kind of life.” Jana shook her head slowly. “Greg Amory comes from an entirely different world. I just want Edith to be happy.”
Akela reached out and pressed Jana’s hand. “She will be, don’t worry. Love between two people is very powerful. It can change things, make differences seem unimportant.”
Jana wished she could share Akela’s confidence.
There was no time to discuss it further. The wedding was scheduled for five o’clock. That time was especially picked because the garden would be golden with the glow of an early sunset, enhancing everything with glorious light.
Akela helped Jana with her hair, and then Jana did hers. Their dresses had been chosen in the most becoming color for each. Their picture hats were flattering, the curved brims lined with shirred pink chiffon. At last came a knock at the door and Meipala’s voice reminding them it was time to go downstairs.
The other three bridesmaids were gathered in the library, whose French doors opened onto the lanai. As Akela and Jana joined them, there were exchanged murmurs of mutual admiration. Then a kind of expectant hush fell over them as they waited for Edith. When she appeared on Colonel Preston’s arm, they all drew a collective awed breath. The Edith they knew had been transformed into a vision of a bride. Under the voluminous tulle veil that covered her face, they could see she was smiling. Her gown was a dream of shimmering satin, embroidered and outlined in tiny pearls. Before they had a chance to say anything, Colonel Preston declared proudly, “Was there ever such a beautiful bride?”
There were a few moments of emotional flurry, and then Meipala handed them their bouquets. From outside they could hear the strains of lovely Hawaiian music. Through the open doors, they saw that most of the seats were full. Between the rows was a path for the bridal party, which led to the flower-banked podium, where the surpliced and black-cassocked priest, prayer book in hand, waited. At his side stood Greg and Bayard, looking erect and handsome in white linen suits. Even though she had schooled herself against Bayard’s charms and found it difficult to excuse Greg’s superficiality, Jana had to admit that the two tall, blond young men could have modeled for a picture of a pair of Grecian gods from some Athenian temple.
The ceremony, the reception, even the fact that she had caught the bridal bouquet, did not lift Jana’s spirits to the level such an event should have. She tried her best to enter into the festivities, to laugh, to chat, to join in the toasts to bride and groom, to dance with Greg’s cousin, who seemed very attracted, and at the end of the evening to pelt the couple with flower petals as they ran hand in hand to the new carriage that would take them away on their honeymoon.
Later, when she was finally home, in her own room, easing her tired feet out of her blue satin slippers, Jana felt as lonely as she had ever been. She glanced at the beautiful bridal bouquet that, she was convinced, Edith had aimed directly at her, and sighed. Her emotions were a mixture of pleasure and pain. Jana had not mistaken the meaning of the distance Bayard had kept from her. It had really needed no explanation, because when she had entered the library where the bridesmaids were assembled, she could not miss seeing the small shell pin with the tiny pearl Vinnie Albright was wearing on the bodice of her bridesmaid’s dress.
Today had been the end of one part of her life. She did not know what the next chapter would bring. All she could hope was that Kimo would be in it.
Two weeks after Edith’s wedding, in the island newspaper appeared the announcement of Bayard Preston’s engagement to Vinnie Albright.
Part Four
Chapter Nineteen
With Edith married and gone, Kimo far away in Germany, and Akela spending most of her time in Kona, preoccupied with Pelo and planning a December wedding, Jana found herself lonelier than she had ever been before in her life.
Because of the Rutherfords’ financial situation, it was decided Jana would have to wait another year to go to teachers college on the mainland. Even if she was aided by a partial scholarship, there were other expenses to be met. Although her parents came to this decision regretfully, Jana actually did not mind. She still hoped that she might win a scholarship to art school.
Besides, she had been asked to be a bridesmaid in Akela and Pelo’s wedding, the only one outside their immediate family to be included in the bridal party. The Hawaiian ohana was very intimate and close. Most of the other bridal attendants were Akela’s cousins, so Jana felt honored to have been chosen.
Jana wondered if Kimo would return in time for the wedding. No one, not even Tutu, knew for sure when he would get home from Germany. Jana had kept all the postcards he had sent her, but two years was a long while. Sometimes their moments together seemed unreal—sometimes she could hardly remember what he looked like or what they had talked about. More and more, the romantic dreams she had after his last visit home gradually faded. Perhaps he had met someone in Germany he cared about. Perhaps…
In the meantime, she took a job clerking at the fabric store in Waimea, putting aside most of her small salary to save for college.
She kept busy with her job and helped her mother around the house, trying to make herself useful, and in her free time she painted. She took on Nathan’s Sunday school class, since there was no one else in the small congregation who volunteered, and to her surprise found she liked it.
Not often, but once in a while, her thoughts strayed to Bayard Preston and the brief interlude they had shared. Had he really considered pursuing a romantic relationship with her? Or had he already decided that a prestigious marriage with a socialite like Vinnie Albright was more advantageous? She was happy she had not been dazzled too much by his charm and all he might have offered. In her heart of hearts she knew they were “unequally yoked.”
She also tried not to put too much importance on her memories of Kimo. Perhaps she kept thinking of him because right now her life seemed empty. She tried not to envy Akela’s happiness or Edith’s glamorous life.
Maybe her life was going to be different from her friends’ lives. Maybe she would never marry, just live in a cottage on a hillside overlooking the ocean, with a small studio where she could paint. While Edith toured Europe in style and Akela became a traditional Hawaiian wife whose duties were her husband’s comfort and contentment, she would live alone and become a famous artist—a reclusive one!
The morning of Akela’s wedding, Jana arrived at Tutu’s house. She found a radiant Akela. Never before had she seemed so beautiful. Her inner beauty shone from her luminous dark eyes. The two friends embraced and Jana had to fight the lump rising in her throat. She remembered the first time she had ever seen Akela. She had looked like a small, exotic doll. Akela and Kimo had been fellow boarders at the Caldwells’ house while Jana’s parents were in Honolulu and Tutu was in Kohala at the bedside of a sick family member. Jana recalled how quickly she and Akela had become friends, and all the walks, the talks, the confidences shared, the secrets kept over the years. They had been like sisters. Now she was losing her. It would never be the same again.
Not wanting to spoil her friend’s day, Jana held back tears, entering into all the last-minute activities with affection and enthusiasm.
Since Akela and Pelo were both Christians, there would first be a wedding ceremony in Tutu’s church, where Akela had worshiped as a child and still did, except for the weekends she spent in Kona. This would be followed by a traditional Hawaiian exchange of vows, and a luau on the beach. That way, any of the bride and groom’s friends who could not be squeezed into the tiny church would not feel left out.
Akela’s bridal gown was an exquisitely embroidered white muslin dress fashioned with a high neck. The long, tapered sleeves were puffed at the top and had wrists that were edged in delicate lace. A train fell from the shoulders in panels of ruffles. She wore a wreath of fresh flowers. Her long, dark hair hung loose, and around her neck was the traditional ti-leaf lei.
When it was time for them to go to the church, a wagon decorated by the family with garlands of flowers and driven by one of the male cousins drew up in front of Tutu’s cottage. Tutu helped settle Akela carefully in front, arranging her train, and then Jana and the four other bridesmai
ds, Akela’s pretty, giggling cousins, climbed in, and they started off down the hill to the church.
As they stopped in the churchyard, a crowd was already waiting for the bride’s arrival. Through the open church door, they heard the wheezing sound of the old organ playing some of the beloved old hymns. Now quiet, subdued with the solemnity of the occasion, they all got out of the wagon and went up the steps. At the top, waiting on the porch, was Uncle Kelo, who was to give Akela away. He greeted them all with an “Aloha” and a hug and kiss, then held out his arm to Akela. She took it but not before she turned and stretched out her hand to grasp Jana’s, squeezing it hard. Then the squeaky notes of “The Wedding March” sounded. The bridesmaids followed Tutu, then slowly marched down the aisle in the church, which was bedecked with flowers and crowded to the walls with smiling people.
During the ceremony, Jana had an entirely different reaction than she’d had at Edith’s wedding only months before. She’d had so many doubts about Edith’s happiness with Greg Amory—she had none at all for Akela.
Hearing the words of the vows her friend was taking, Jana knew they were promises she herself longed to make. But only with a man she could love and trust. Would it ever happen for her?
The ceremony over, the bridal party went out into the bright sunshine to gather on the church steps for the photography session. The jovial photographer kept rearranging them until all were laughing. Their laughter was a mixture of irritation and resignation, because they were all eager to get to the gala luau still ahead. Finally satisfied, he released them, and they all scattered among the assembled well-wishers in the churchyard. The bride and groom were swallowed up in the crowd, which showered them with congratulations and loaded them with leis.
