To Hold A Rainbow: A Maui Love Story

by MJ Brannigan

  “Sounds good,” JonJon replied, tinkling the neck of his beer bottle against Kamea’s to toast the moment. “I knew there was something there when you dragged her drowned rat-lookin’ butt onto shore,” he said, smiling.

  “That reminds me,” Kamea said; “I better call Mom, tell her to set another place at the table for Thanksgiving.”

  * * *

  Kamea couldn’t help herself from feeling somewhat giddy when she talked to her Mom about Rebecca coming with her. This was the first time in her life she would be bringing someone home that she was in a relationship with; not just for the holiday weekend, but ever. It was as though she was being mischievous in some way. It excited her and yet it was still tinged with just a little fear of what her Dad might think—or worse—say.

  Funny, she thought, sharks in the water don’t scare me much, but bringing a woman home to meet my family does? It puzzled her. She wondered if she and Rebecca would be able to keep their hands off each other at all? She didn’t care what her parents thought; she told herself. But at the same time did not want to disrespect them in their home. That’s why she had gone to live with Auntie so many years ago. It was easier not to have to explain herself time and time again.

  Kamea didn’t know what to expect about her announcement, but her mother said that another guest would be just fine; “I always make too much food, anyway.” She hadn’t elaborated on her new relationship. And her mother’s encouragement to bring her new friend along helped to settle her nerves.

  Rebecca said she looked forward to meeting her family. But Kamea felt the need to warn her they weren’t much like the Ohana at Auntie’s birthday party. Dad was ex-army; kinda stern most of the time—didn’t smile unless he had to. He had never wanted children and said the Army life wasn’t something he thought would be good for kids. But along she came. A surprise. Her mother had made sure to give her a Hawaiian name: Kamea, her Precious One.

  He had always been a good provider though. And her Mom doted on him for as long as she could remember. But his highest hopes for Kamea were that she just find a nice guy and settle down, have a career and a family of her own. Her art school year abroad, which she cut short, always seemed to bother him. He couldn’t seem to understand how simply she wanted to live. She only wanted to enjoy a life close to nature.

  If she hadn’t had the years at Auntie’s, she may have turned out different. But Auntie as a second mother and Uncle Leo as a second father, helped to nurture the nature girl in her. With so much to see and do on Maui; the trails, the jungle, the waterfalls, the vast ocean, she never ran out of things to hold her interest. She couldn’t stand coming home from school to play video games or watch TV. She would head for the beach with like-minded friends—and of course, JonJon, who taught her to surf, dive, and spearfish.

  Her mother also said that; “things were changing around here, now that your Dad’s retired.” She didn’t elaborate much, other than he’d been volunteering at the base some. But with Dad underfoot at the house more, maybe she was finding other things to occupy his mind? Maybe he’s not barking orders so much? She figured she just had to wait and see what she meant.

  CHAPTER 22 - REBECCA

  Another evening meal of fresh fish cooked on the grill, and hand-picked veggies from the garden, shared with JonJon and Brenda on the backyard table. Another night of sharing their newfound passion for one another. And another morning of coffee in bed—with a little midday lounging to catch their breaths—before Rebecca determined she had better go back to the B&B at some point; if for nothing else but to retrieve a change of clothes.

  Rebecca told Kamea yes, she would go with her to Oahu if she wanted; and she would be okay, not to worry. She figured she could handle any disapproving parent as long as Kamea was comfortable being at her side. And as Kamea suggested, for all her family would know—if they could keep their hands off each other for five minutes—they might just appear to be best of friends after all.

  Rebecca could feel herself almost buzzing inside with warmth as she passed the General Store where they first sat for coffee, and turned to take the road uphill towards Haiku and her room, empty for a few nights now.

  Brother Ben had made sure to invite her to the community Thanksgiving potluck dinner in the main hall if she felt comfortable doing so. This is what she had planned to attend until Kamea’s invite to join her on Oahu, and thought she had better thank Brother Ben but let him know she would not be attending.

  Getting an inter–island flight was the Hawaiian equal of catching a bus or train on the mainland. For many, it was the only way to shuttle back and forth between relations. It would be nice to see a little of Oahu too, she thought, and looked forward to the little island-hopping experience.

  As she pulled into the small parking area, crunching gravel echoing against the overhead branches, she saw the parking lot was as empty as she left it—how many days ago? At the far corner of the house, she saw the silhouette of a woman seeming to pace back and forth, giving off the appearance of someone having just arrived on the island; a stiffness in her gait, an air of tension surrounding her. I wonder if I walked like that when I got here? She had become so relaxed—whether from time with Kamea or from being on Maui itself, she couldn’t be sure. But she felt like a different person than a week and a half ago.

  The woman’s posture looked familiar. It took a few moments for it to register though. She was fidgeting with her purse, pulling out a cigarette, lighting it, and then lifting her head up as if to blow her stress to the trees. Jenny. What in God’s name is she doing here?

  Rebecca felt a bolt go through her and hit her in the gut as though she had stuck her finger in an electric socket. No. No, this can’t be happening! she screamed in her head. Should I drive out before she sees me? What… what now?

  All the tears of the past year. All the time of not knowing, not understanding why it even ended. She wasn’t ready for this. Jenny had said something on the phone a few nights ago about business—their old business together being better than ever. She should come back to the agency too, she begged. Things were looking up like never before.

  Rebecca was happy doing graphic design for the few clients she had. It paid the bills, let her take this vacation, even if she did have to scrimp a bit. Jenny’s promise of working things out, apologizing, pleading—almost begging her to think it over. “We can talk about it more when you get back,” she had said.

  But she didn’t want to go back, even if she had to. She didn’t want this dream with Kamea to end. Was that it? Was all this a dream? A fantasy? Just a vacation romance?

  God, please, not now.

  * * *

  A forced, taut smile greeted Rebecca as she made her way closer to a fidgeting Jenny.

  “When did you start smoking again?” was all she could think to say in the awkward moment.

  “Sorry. I know how much you hate these things…” Jenny paused for a moment, looking around. “But, well, it was a long flight and my nerves are, well... shot. What did you do to your face—you okay? Well, the cigarettes... I didn’t even pick them up till I got to the airport. Then I couldn’t find a place to smoke once I had them, and oh well,” she continued, dropping the just-lit cigarette into the grass at her feet, then twisting her shoe over it to put it out. “Can I have a hug at least?”

  Rebecca felt nothing. Blank. Jenny’s arms may as well have been two sticks as she pulled her close to hold her. “I’ve missed you,” she said whispering into her ear.

  “Well, I went through a lot of that, and for longer than I want to admit. But... why did you come now?” Rebecca asked as she moved away from Jenny’s embrace. “The cost of the flight—last minute and all—it must have been extortionate. And, well…” Rebecca looked around for a car; “How did you… how did you get here?”

  “I wanted to surprise you, of course, and that’s how great business is too,” Jenny replied. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t have to worry about money anymore. Neither will you either, if... you kn
ow… if you come back to the company too. I got a limo from the hotel, and the monk guy here—he seems nice—said I could wait here as long as I wanted, but I couldn’t smoke inside, or in the gardens or anything. And again, what did you do to your face?”

  Jenny’s words seemed to come at her so fast. She was reeling from the shock of seeing her, the words almost a cacophony in the quiet of the Zen B&B. “I just had a little fall on the rocks—I’m okay now. But about going back to Detroit, I’m not sure what I’m going to do,” Rebecca replied. She wanted to say: I’m only going back to Detroit to sell everything and move back here to be with the woman of my dreams—oh, and she’s an artist, she spearfishes for food, and she’s a Polynesian goddess too.

  Even the thought of saying it—anything to that effect out loud sounded preposterous once she heard it in her head. Maybe she was deluding herself with this fantasy? Jenny was here to take her back. It was what she had wanted for a year. It was all she knew that she wanted before this trip to Maui. Now, the woman in front of her made her feel nothing. How could this be?

  “Why don’t we go and have dinner somewhere and talk at least? The folks at the hotel told me about some nice fish-house place on the water about a mile or two down the road—I passed it coming here.” She paused, “Can we at least do that?”

  “Let me call my friend—I’ve got some people waiting for me,” Rebecca answered, her voice expressing the sinking in her heart at the thought of having to leave this behind. It reminded her of summer camp when her parents came to take her home. Vacation over. Back to school. Back to reality.

  * * *

  The disappointment in Kamea’s voice was audible. Rebecca found it echoing her own. She did her best to convince Kamea this interruption, as she saw it, was only temporary. “She’s going back on Saturday morning, so it’s just a day or so,” she urged.

  “At least you get out of having to meet my family,” Kamea quipped, attempting to lighten both their moods. “I won’t get back ’til Friday night—have you thought any more about what you want to do? What we talked about?”

  Now Rebecca sat across from Jenny and watched her twirl the wineglass against the light, examining the golden hue of the Chardonnay, its legs clinging to the side of the glass. Rebecca had both hands wrapped around her glass of beer.

  Jenny turned her gaze from the wine glass to Rebecca’s eyes; “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I was a b–word, I know that now,” the expression on Jenny’s face severe, sad. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Sorry it took me so long to see that. You don’t know how many times I wanted to pick up the phone, like, well, like the other night. With the anniversary of our breakup coming up, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. About us. All the good times we had together, the business we built from scratch.”

  Rebecca didn’t want to hear all the words coming at her. All the words she had hoped to hear not so long ago.

  “I want you to come back, sweetheart. Not just to me, but to the business we built together. It’s not mine. It’s ours,” Jenny said, looking back to her glass of wine.

  Her hand reached to cover Rebecca’s, as she tightened her grip on the beer glass. “The main reason we got the big contract was because of your design and marketing ideas—I’m just the salesperson in all this, as you know,” she added. “It’s good money too; a five-year contract. Thompson-Dawes loves us, and they want to use us for their financial marketing promos as well,” she continued, her eyes on the wine she swirled in her glass.

  “The design staff you helped put together is good, but they’re still pretty green. They just don’t have the long-term experience at it like you.”

  Jenny seemed to talk so fast—did I talk that fast when I got here? she wondered. What on earth does Kamea even see in me? Jenny’s salesmanship may have worked wonders in a boardroom or business luncheon, but across from her now; the words coming at her so fast, they were falling flat and only left Rebecca feeling drained.

  “I don’t know,” she answered, her eyes following the tip of her thumb wiping the lip of the beer glass she had just sipped. “I was thinking about coming back here to live. I feel different here—It’s so beautiful, and it...”

  “Of course, it’s beautiful,” Jenny said, cutting her off, her hands now waving to her surroundings. “But how can you afford it—especially if you leave your clients behind? Be realistic,” she added, returning to her wine. “Tell you what... we can plan a vacation back here every year if you like, maybe look for a condo, someplace to vacation and then retire to some day? I mean, I know that’s a ways off, but still... wouldn’t it be nice? I think it would be neat, yeah... a vacation home on Maui. How many people can say that? We can do that now, you know?”

  The way Jenny’s words kept coming at her, Rebecca didn’t feel as though she could keep up. The steady work sounded good, of course. But she wasn’t sure about being with Jenny. Not anymore. She didn’t remember her being quite so hyper. Or maybe she only remembered what she wanted to about her; that she made her feel important, cared for, loved even. Now she could see why she was never on board with the getting married, adopting children bit. She was too driven. Too much into making a career. Rebecca wanted a life.

  “Something I didn’t mention when you called the other night because, well, I didn’t know what was going to happen, and I didn’t think for a minute you were going to show up here—I’ve met someone,” Rebecca said, looking into her glass.

  CHAPTER 23 - KAMEA

  “Where’s your friend?” her father asked, looking past her as though someone else might still walk up to the car.

  “She had something come up,” Kamea answered, her daypack slung over one shoulder and doing her best to hide her disappointment.

  “Oh, sorry about that. Hmm, well how’s your Auntie?” he asked as they pulled out of the airport pick-up lane to merge with traffic.

  “Good, Dad. Good. She had a wonderful birthday—wish you guys had’da been there. It was a real feast too.”

  Kamea forced a smile. It wasn’t that she didn’t like or love her father. But right now she wished Rebecca was with her. Or even better, they were lying in bed, cuddled into one another. Silly, she thought. Only a few weeks ago they didn’t even know the other existed. Now this. It wasn’t what she was expecting at all. It was as though something was missing. As though she had forgotten a part of herself on Maui. I’m so done, she thought.

  Sitting next to her father for the first time in a year brought back memories of her childhood; of missing him when he went on tour, of the joy felt in seeing him at the house when she came home from school. Andrew Connolly was a man of few words, and even on seeing her for the first time arriving home, his face would rarely crack a smile. He still wore the same flat-top brush-cut she had seen all her life, now more gray than the Irish red-brown color of his youth.

  “And you, Dad? Mom says you’ve been volunteering at the base?”

  “Yep. Giving tours two days a week, helping with some of the civilian relations activities too. Keeps me in touch with the guys, I guess,” he replied, smiling.

  “How’s Mom doin?” Kamea asked.

  “She’s had some woman-stuff happening this year, you know—the hot flashes and what-not—likes the shave ice a lot more than she used to,” he said, chuckling, the usual stern expression softening as his eyes crinkled from a little smile. “But other than that, she’s doing pretty good. She found a craft group that she spends time with. We got baskets and quilts comin’ out the ears,” he said, laughing. “You’ll be taking a couple of quilts home with you—be prepared,” he said, winking.

  Kamea couldn’t ever remember seeing her father quite so, well… happy. His usual stoic, stern, hard-assed manner wasn’t there. She wondered if he was okay? Maybe losin’ it a little in his old age? Perhaps retirement was softening him just a little?

  “Oh, by the way, we’re having someone from the base over for dinner as usual too—hope you don’t mind?” He asked.

  �
�No, of course not,” Kamea replied. Here we go. This again, she thought, turning her head away to look at the traffic; the shops and signs whizzing by in a blur.

  Every year at Thanksgiving and Christmas, her father would invite a fellow soldier or two to the house for a home-cooked holiday meal. So many of the single men and women, as well as those with their spouses and families back on the mainland, wouldn’t be able to make it home during the holidays. And so it was a nice gesture on the part of those stationed here with families to invite one or two to their home for dinner.

  Her father had always invited who he thought was a nice young man that Kamea might take a liking to. Year after year, he didn’t seem to get it. She didn’t want to date a guy—nice or not. Hang out, yes. Some of the guys were fun, and she enjoyed spending time with them over the holiday. One of them—Jeremy from Florida, even came over to Maui on leave once to hang out, spearfish and surf with her and JonJon. Her father never seemed to get it though.

  “I think you’ll like her,” he said; taking Kamea by surprise.

  “She’s about your age, an E-6. She works at Headquarters in the Supply Unit running the… well, she’s an office worker pretty much; not a field grunt like your Dad was.”

  “Where’s she from?” Kamea asked, still a bit surprised at her father.

  “Santa Cruz, I think. Grew up surfing too. She’s, well, like you... She likes to go out with women, and…”

  “She’s gay, Dad. It’s okay to say it,” she couldn’t help herself from smiling.

  “Yeah, that,” he shook his head. “I’m trying, honey. I really am.”