by MJ Brannigan
There were hours between now and then though. So a trip on her own up to Haleakala Park seemed like a good idea. It was hard to fathom: the height of the mountain, over ten thousand feet up. When looking up at it from sea level, it astounded her.
Even with the height of the highest peaks in the Rockies, one looks to the peaks with at least a mile-high head start. Here, it went from sea-level to straight up. It was a beauty difficult to comprehend. The immensity of it all was a wonder to her. The mountains on the Big Island were even higher—that was something she would have to take in too, someday.
As she readied herself for the drive ahead, she thought of her arrival on Maui just a few days before; her approach to the airport over the valley between the West Maui Mountains, shrouded in mist to one side, and Haleakala to the other, and the most verdant greens she had ever seen below. They had been a welcoming sight that would stay forever with her. It had brought her almost to tears when she saw it, and she couldn’t understand how her fellow passengers didn’t seem to show the same sense of awe and wonder.
Coming from the cold and harsh November snow and winds at Detroit Metro, to this airport with no walls was a most welcome surprise. She felt as though every pore on her body opened to take in the moist air, the gentle breeze off the sea, the essence of life it offered. Why were people not walking around in stunned amazement at this as they made their way to their rental cars and shuttles?
It had taken her a few minutes to gather herself from the sensory overload at the time, but it was a pleasurable overload that would linger in memory, and something she was happy to have experienced.
She had read it in travel books and brochures—the words on the sign at the airport with no walls: Maui no ka oi! Maui is best! She didn’t know if this was true, of course, as it was the only island she had yet visited.
But here she was, only five days into her trip, and it was getting under her skin, this Maui… and into a heart she thought she had closed to all comers. She had been wrong.
* * *
The rental car found its way up the smooth black-top roads to the high country with ease. She found Makawao interesting as she passed through and decided there were shops and galleries in town that looked worth coming back to visit sometime.
Makawao was a funky little town that served as the epicenter of Maui’s upcountry, as they called it, where mists and showers passed through on the breezes, and verdant cattle country tended by Paniolo—Hawaiian cowboys—surrounded it on all sides.
She passed the sign for Makena’s Farm, but there was no way she was going to stop in. Not now. Not today. She just wanted to go higher and see what further wonders Maui had in store.
The winding road led up through some of the strangest country she had ever seen. Otherworldly was the only description that came to mind: green grasses and hummocks of what looked like evergreens. There were copses of Eucalyptus, shrouded in mists that hung for a moment or two before moving on. The ocean was still there far below—at times gray and misty, and at other times a blue pearl.
On the slick roads, wet from mists and rain, rice-burner motorcycles waited for the traffic to pass before racing one another through the misty sweeps and turns. This did not look like a good idea, she thought.
At a certain point, all the tall trees and lush, green meadows were left behind to vanish into the mists below, and only short scrubby grasses and windswept plants that clung tight to the rocky earth remained.
The end of the road and the view across the expanse that was the summit of Haleakala were too much to take in one sweep. Shadows ran down and across the moonscape crater from passing clouds. The immensity, the scale, the beauty: humbling, Rebecca thought.
Tourists were snapping pictures, some with flashes going off, reaching nothing in the vastness of the crater. They took selfies and photos of one another to look back on when they returned home to their regular lives. Maybe their pictures would help them to remember what an incredible sight they had seen this day, all the while knowing no picture could do the experience justice?
Rebecca found a rock to sit on away from the small packs of tourists and take in the view for as long as she could before it was time to head back down. It was hours. It passed like minutes. It took her mind off Kamea, but only for a little while.
As she thought ahead to the drive back to Paia and visiting the house Kamea shared with her cousin, the butterflies in her stomach returned. Thoughts of doubt soon followed. It was an anguish of sorts; a longing and yet, a sweet desire that would not rest, as hard as she tried to stifle it.
But rather than giving in to the fear that seemed to feed on her doubts, she decided to focus on the feeling of the breeze whipping her hair against her cheek. She closed her eyes, again lifting her face toward the sun, pulling the collar of her hooded sweatshirt around her neck.
She could see Kamea’s face again in her mind’s eye, in a daydream; smiling and moving closer to hers. The hair brushing against her cheek became Kamea’s tender kisses. She swooned at the thought, a warmth filling her.
This was better than imagining what my fears tell me, she thought. I just want to linger in this. Just in this.
CHAPTER 15 - KAMEA
Kamea had felt a tingle of anticipation at the thought of spending the evening with Rebecca. But here now, lying next to her on the couch; hands touching, fingers from time to time, playing with each other’s; she was delighted.
JonJon—with Brenda’s insistence, she was sure—refrained from his usual chiding. He would lay it on her well enough when Rebecca had gone home. But while she was here, he seemed to put a lid on it, and kept his jokes to himself.
Dinner had been more fish, rice and vegetables; frozen Mahi that Kamea left out to thaw that morning before leaving for work at the coffee house. She hadn’t actually needed to go out spearfishing yesterday. There was plenty in the freezer already. She had only done so to get her mind clear, get back in touch with her routine. And Rebecca ended up being there after all. What were the chances?
Movie finished, and snack bowls almost empty, JonJon and Brenda excused themselves and said good night. Kamea thought she saw a little wink in her direction from JonJon as he muttered something under his breath—he must have, because Brenda punched him in the arm, and said something like “leave them alone,” before pushing him towards their bedroom for the night.
“Would you like another beer?” Kamea asked.
“Well, it is getting sorta late—maybe we could just split one,” Rebecca answered.
“Sure,” Kamea replied as she hopped off the couch and headed for the kitchen.
“You’ll have to show me your art sometime,” she heard Rebecca’s voice rise a little to make sure she could hear her from the other room.
Kamea bent down, reaching into the fridge. “No problem. Maybe you could help me pick some for the show if you like—you do graphic design, right?” She asked, popping the cap, and shuffling herself back to Rebecca.
“That would be fun—though I’m sure you’ve got a better idea of your work than I do,” as she looked around at the walls in the living room; “I like the ones in here, though. They’re lovely.”
“Thanks. It was almost dark when you got here, and I don’t have any good lighting set up in the studio—if you want to call it that. It’s just a covered lanai without any electricity. Otherwise, I’d show it to you now.”
“That’s okay. Some other time.”
Kamea poured the beer into each of their glasses and handed one to Rebecca. Her fingers caressed Rebecca’s as she stood above her, looking into her eyes.
“This is nice,” Rebecca said, her voice hushed, looking up to Kamea. “I feel so comfortable with you. It surprises me.”
“I know, right?” was all Kamea could think to say as she placed her beer on the coffee table; and scooting back into the cushions, sat down next to Rebecca. With a slight gesture, she invited Rebecca to lean into her, under an arm that found its way around her shoulder.
Rebecca took a sip before setting down her glass and slid in next to her, the fullness of her, pressed deep and close.
Kamea could feel a warmth rise in her as Rebecca placed her head against her chest, her cheek tickled by loose tendrils of Rebecca’s curly hair.
“This is nicer,” she heard Rebecca say, feeling the soft vibration of her voice against her chest.
“It is. Yes... it is.” Kamea replied as she closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink deeper into the moment; the only sound, their breathing. But she was sure Rebecca could hear her pounding heart, ear to her breast as it was.
“I never expected anything like this,” Rebecca said, her voice muffled as she kept her cheek to Kamea.
“I know—me neither,” Kamea replied in a hushed tone, as she moved her cheek back and forth along the top of Rebecca’s head. Even the smell of her hair was intoxicating.
When Rebecca sat up a moment later, Kamea was sure she would hear her say something to break the spell. She must have realized this shouldn’t be happening. Not now, not yet.
Instead, Rebecca didn’t pull away but looked deeper into Kamea’s eyes. Her expression softened, the look in her eyes misted in a glaze, but not from her beer. In the warm lamplight which softened her expression further, she seemed to take in more of the moment, processing it, absorbing it, soaking her in. Kamea wasn’t sure what was going through Rebecca’s mind. But it didn’t look like fear, or doubt... or flight.
“I have to do this,” Rebecca said in a whisper, leaning into Kamea, bringing her face closer, her warm breath, perfumed with the sweet, musky scent of their beer.
Kamea could feel the quivering breath against her cheek, then across her lips, as Rebecca’s sweet face hovered close to hers. Foreheads touched as they did the night before on leaving the beach. Their noses crossed gently back and forth in a tender Eskimo kiss.
Their lips then brushed against each other’s in a gentle tease, Rebecca moving to kiss Kamea’s cheek first, then inch by inch, making her way around her face, tender kiss, by soft tender kiss. And then finally to Kamea’s waiting, parted lips, now quivering with anticipation.
Kamea felt the warmth of Rebecca’s sigh as their lips finally met. She took Rebecca’s lower lip between hers, nibbling the soft, rosy flesh. Alternating lips suckled and nuzzled each other in gentle passion. The taste, the sensation of it melted her.
When the tip of Rebecca’s tongue slipped between her lips, Kamea let out an audible, soft moan; a gasp—the sound of her craving heart. That’s when she knew she was gone.
* * *
The dim morning light wasn’t what awakened Kamea. The sun was still below the horizon. Rather, it was the tingling of an arm that had gone numb. Her eyes opened to Rebecca’s still sleeping face; curly locks of hair across her eyes and forehead. Her breath, soft and warm, played against Kamea’s cheek.
She lay, watching this sweet face before her in the dim light, eyes scanning every detail, enjoying the beauty of the moment, of the woman so close and warm.
Remembering her arm, she tried to slide it out from under Rebecca to find a less-pressured position. But she stopped as Rebecca moaned, a smile creeping across her lips, which then smacked as though she were still enjoying the taste of their evening’s kisses.
Her eyes remained closed as she moaned and turned herself around, squirming her buttocks into Kamea to spoon. Kamea’s arm found relief; a new spot under the soft weight of Rebecca’s neck. The feeling began returning to her arm, and she wrapped the other around Rebecca, her hand slipping into the welcoming hands Rebecca held under her chin.
Half-filled glasses of beer still sat on the coffee table in the half-light of pre-dawn. They had not drank enough to get drunk or impair their judgement. But Kamea was sure what little beer they drank helped ease them into the warm and fuzzy position they lay together in now.
An antique quilt pulled up half way during the night, wrapped them together during their continued cuddling, kissing, petting, and pillow-talk. And Kamea delighted to see they were both still completely clothed. It hadn’t gone that far. Not yet.
But the warmth of Rebecca’s body against hers, snuggling into her, was divine. She didn’t want to move. She had no desire to move from this position ever again.
She nuzzled herself into Rebecca’s hair, the scent of it still intoxicating in the quiet of early morning. She squeezed in closer to her; a soft, pleasant moan escaped Rebecca’s lips. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep again was the thought: Oh God, this is wonderful, so wonderful.
* * *
When Kamea awakened in the light of morning, it was to the sound of tinkling dishes in the kitchen. Her arms were empty, and for a moment, she felt her heart sink at the sight.
She shuffled herself to the kitchen, wiping the sleep from her eyes, hair still mussed and disheveled she was sure, to see Rebecca at the table with Brenda. They were sipping their coffee; JonJon at the counter, cracking eggs into a dish for omelets.
“Mornin’, sleepy princess!” JonJon grinned. “Looks like you couldn’t get rid of her,” he chuckled.
“JonJon!” Brenda exclaimed. “Leave them alone!”
“It’s okay,” Rebecca said with a shy little smile, tilting her head down from the faces in the room. JonJon turned and went back to whisking his eggs.
“I didn’t hear you get up,” Kamea said, walking to Rebecca, and then placing her hand on her shoulder. She felt Rebecca stiffen, her back becoming more erect for a moment that lasted longer than she would have hoped, before her hand finally came up to rest on hers, giving it a gentle squeeze and then tilting her head against it to return the gesture of affection.
Maybe too soon? Kamea thought. Maybe she doesn’t like public displays of affection, she wondered. She had returned her affection, but still, there was a vibe, an uncertainty—something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, and she didn’t know what to make of it.
“Let me get cleaned up,” Kamea said to everyone, Rebecca in particular, letting her fingers trail off her shoulder and along her arm. JonJon handed her a cup of coffee.
“Here ya go, Cuz,” he said, making sure she had it in her grip before letting go.
“You guys got anything planned for today?” he asked before Kamea could leave the room.
“Haven’t gotten that far,” Kamea replied, turning back to look Rebecca’s way. “Not sure what Rebecca’s doin’ today.”
“Reports are coming in already,” JonJon looked back and forth between Rebecca and Kamea. “The whales are back—kinda early this year by the looks of it. Thought maybe we could take Uncle Leo’s boat out and show Rebecca. Or at least, see if we can find them to show her. It’s a big ocean,” he said, chuckling. Then added, “It will be something cool to do anyhow.”
Kamea could see Rebecca’s eyes widen at the suggestion, as she looked to Kamea to gauge her response.
“I’m all for that.” Kamea replied, “What do you think?” she asked, looking back to Rebecca.
“I’d like that a lot. I didn’t even figure on actually seeing whales on this trip, but... there are a lot of things I didn’t figure on coming here,” she said looking to Kamea, a tender smile forming on her lips.
CHAPTER 16 - REBECCA
Rebecca hadn’t wanted to say anything when Kamea walked into the kitchen. Her guts twisted in on themselves, and she did her best to hide the discomfort she was feeling. What could she say to her? Nothing. She couldn’t say anything—not right now. She would have to wait for clarity, for understanding about what to do, if anything. She just tried as best she could to keep the discomfort to herself.
Lying next to Kamea and waking up next to her was the most blissful experience she had known in a long time. She loved the kissing. She loved the petting. But to just lie in silence, wrapped in each other’s comforting arms all night was, well, something she felt she could do forever.
She had been the only one up as the sun rose, and in the morning quiet, found her way to the kitchen and ou
t onto the covered lanai. Curiosity made her peek into the studio space before Kamea could show it to her. She hoped Kamea wouldn’t mind.
The first thing she saw—a painting just started, sitting on the easel: a lady in a white dress, holding flowers in the warmth of the sun. It was her, at Auntie’s just the other day.
She blushed, even with no one seeing her, holding her hand to her mouth. That someone would think the way she looked was significant enough to paint overwhelmed her. She found a chair and sat, admiring the painting in front of her. She looked around at the stacks of paintings against the walls. She wouldn’t touch them, she decided. She would let Kamea show her the rest. It was only right.
But here, in front of her was this lovely painting, with her as the subject in gorgeous light and thick, rich color. She felt honored, and just a little loved by it all, if that could be possible.
Hearing a bubbling noise in the kitchen, and smelling the coffee begin to brew, she decided to hasten herself back to the kitchen before she was discovered. She couldn’t help feel she had been intruding just a little.
The kitchen, she found, was empty. The coffeemaker had turned itself on from a timer. She took a clean cup from the dish rack and poured one for herself.
But what followed next seemed to change everything. Everything.
She remembered her phone lay next to the half-filled glasses of beer on the coffee table. She thought she would tip-toe in and clear them away while putting her phone back in her shorts pocket.
Out of habit, she pressed the wake button to check the time. That’s when she saw it on the screen: Someone had texted her during the night. She hadn’t expected anyone to text or call, but… squinting to see clearer; It was from Jenny. Jenny. Good God, why now, Jenny?
It just read:
“Sorry, it’s been so long. Hope UR okay. Miss U. Will call later.”
