“He mea iki,” he said. Sadie could only assume that meant “You’re welcome.”
The hot dogs were in a roasting pan at the end of the table, and he let Sadie choose her own toppings, even though he was the one who put everything else on her plate. The hot dogs were bright red—Konnie called them sunburned—but delicious.
Within a few minutes of her arrival, Sadie was seated opposite Pastor Darryl in a pair of functional vinyl chairs and commenting on how delicious the green bean pasta salad was. It was different from the typical mayonnaise-based salads she was used to, and although Sadie might have added black olives or maybe some finely diced red onion, it was very good.
“That,” he said, grinning proudly, “is my wife’s contribution to tonight’s luau. Bets is an amazing cook—lani.”
“She is,” Sadie agreed after swallowing. She followed his gaze across the yard to a beautiful woman talking with an older couple. She had smooth brown skin, big brown eyes, and wavy hair that was piled on top of her head, a few tendrils framing her face. “Is that your wife?” she asked, pointing.
If anything, Pastor Darryl’s smile got wider and prouder. “Sure is. She’s the kind of wahine that makes men believe in soul mates.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“She is,” Pastor Darryl agreed. “I suppose I should formally introduce myself. I’m Pastor Darryl Earlhart, shepherd of this fold, and I’m very pleased to meet you.”
“I’m Sadie Hoffmiller,” she said, reaching her hand across to shake his even though they’d already been through the ritual greeting.
“Pleased to meet you, Sadie. You’re not kama’aina, yeah?” he said.
“No, I’m not local,” she said. Kama’aina was a word she’d heard a lot. “I’ve been here a few months, and I’ll be going back to Colorado soon.”
“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t meet you when you first arrived, but I’m glad to know you for the duration of your trip. You said you came to speak to me; what can I help you with?”
The reminder of her reason for being there cast a pall on the sunny exchange they’d had so far, but Sadie had only to picture Charlie in her mind before recommitting to her motives. She took one more bite of the salad, then laid down her fork. “I’m afraid that I’m here to discuss a difficult subject,” she said by way of preparing him.
“I’m a pastor,” he said without losing his smile. “Difficult subjects are my specialty. Which one brought you here?”
“Noelani Pouhu,” Sadie said and watched his eyes jump and his smile falter.
He leaned back in his chair and rested his hands lightly on his thighs. “Noelani,” he said almost reverently. “She was a dear makamaka, and we miss her very much.”
“I understand she was active in your church.”
He nodded. “Very active, very involved. And with such a powerful spirit. How did you know her?”
“I didn’t,” Sadie said, looking down and reminding herself why she was there. “I . . . I found her in the ocean after she died.”
Pastor Darryl paused, then leaned forward, putting his hand on Sadie’s forearm, which she found uncomfortable. “Oh, dear sister, I am sorry. That must have been an awful experience for you.”
“It was,” Sadie said, blocking out the memories that tried to intrude. She’d controlled her anxiety so well the last couple of days. She needed to keep herself present, and yet she could feel the slight tingling in the back of her neck.
“And now you’re looking for closure? For purpose in this tragedy?”
His hand was still on her arm, and she wished he’d let go. She wasn’t used to having people touch her, let alone a man in such a familiar way. “Sort of. I’m also trying to put the pieces together for her son.”
His eyebrows pulled together. “You know Charlie?”
“A little,” Sadie explained, having already decided not to keep too many secrets in hopes he would do the same. “I hoped that talking to the people who were her friends might fill in some of the blanks. For Charlie, of course. Can you tell me when you last saw her?”
“A couple of days before she disappeared,” he said, then waved toward the crowd. “At a gathering like this. We do it every Thursday night. She came only for a short time; she worked early the next morning.”
“Do you know what happened the night she disappeared?”
Pastor Darryl shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “I’m afraid what happened to her that night is a mystery for me as well as for everyone else,” he said. “I know that she was supposed to be at work and she called someone to finish her shift. That’s the last anyone saw or heard from her.”
“What did you think happened?” Sadie asked. “Before her . . . body was found?”
“Noelani was a recovering addict facing hard times,” he said, shrugging slightly and looking sad. “When she didn’t finish her shift and no one heard from her, I assumed she’d relapsed.”
“Is there anything specific that makes you think that? Had she said she was tempted to go back?”
“She was always tempted,” Pastor Darryl said. “Every day, every hour. Drugs had been her best friend for a very long time.”
“But she’d been clean for two years, right?”
“And still dreaming of using at night,” he said, smiling compassionately. “She and I spoke of it often those last few weeks; she had a great fear of not being able to stay away. As hard as it might be for us to understand, drugs were the one thing in her life that had never abandoned her, and she didn’t quite feel like herself without them.”
“Would you be surprised, then, if the reports were to come back showing she hadn’t used drugs that night?”
“Is that what the police concluded?” Pastor Darryl said, leaning forward slightly and sounding genuinely surprised.
“No, the reports will take several weeks. I’m just curious.”
“Well,” he said, taking a thoughtful breath. After a moment he nodded and leaned back again. “It would be surprising to me to learn that drugs weren’t a factor. She was really struggling.” He paused. “Sometimes the trials we face are of our own making, poor choices that bounce back on us—Noelani had many of those in her life. Other times our trials come out of the blue and are something we truly don’t deserve to experience. And yet, we have to cope with both types of he mau pilikia, hihia. Are you a woman of faith?”
“I am,” Sadie said, though it had felt thin of late.
“Then you know there is only One who can heal us, only one Great Physician who can succor our souls, regardless of which type of trial we face.”
Sadie nodded, but had to look away. His faith was hard to look at, like staring at the sun. And Sadie wasn’t sure she was ready to discuss her feelings on the subject of faith and God’s healing. She brought the subject back around to her purpose. “You don’t have any idea who Noelani could have been with that night?”
He shook his head. “Creating a new social group is key for recovery, and it’s one of the things our fellowship gave to her. Those were the only associates of hers that I knew.”
“How did she find your congregation?” Sadie asked. “I understand she was a fairly recent resident of Kaua’i.”
“Our fellowship supports an outreach program in Lihue, and Bets and I conduct weekly meetings of faith with music and scripture.”
“Outreach?” Sadie said. “Is that like rehab?”
“It’s a place of transition from rehabilitation to independence. Noelani moved there after finishing her inpatient program in Waimea. Bets and I met her when she began coming to the meetings we hold at the outreach. She was quiet at first; it takes time for an addict to trust anyone, let alone a God they can’t see. When she was ready to leave the outreach program, we helped her find a new life.” His expression grew sad, and he looked at the ground for a moment, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. “How grateful I am to know of a plan that extends beyond this one. I firmly believe that we were able to help prepare her for whatever she ma
y be experiencing now. That she knew God before she met Him is a remarkable gift. I don’t judge her for what may have happened that cut her earthly existence short,” he said, sounding sincere. “She’ll be missed either way, and we’ll always be grateful to have known her.”
“Hey, there, sweetie.”
They both looked up as Bets perched on the arm of Pastor Darryl’s cream-colored vinyl lawn chair and draped an arm over his shoulders before leaning in for a kiss. She was lovely up close, but Sadie could see the lines around her eyes and the texture of her skin that gave away her age—mid-forties, probably about the same as the good pastor. When Bets lifted her head from kissing her husband, she smiled at Sadie.
“Aloha,” she said, nodding slightly. “I’m Bets Earlhart.”
“Sadie Hoffmiller.” She reached out to shake Bets’s long tapered fingers. No acrylic nails, no manicure, just beautifully natural.
Bets barely pressed Sadie’s fingers before withdrawing her hand.
“We’ve been talking about Noelani,” Pastor Darryl said.
Something flashed behind Bets’s eyes, so quick and so subtle that a less keen observer wouldn’t have noticed it. But despite being out of practice, Sadie was a keen observer and she did notice. Bets’s smile faded appropriately in proportion to the sad topic, but she also stiffened a little bit. Defensive, maybe? Nervous?
“I understand you and your husband helped her a great deal,” Sadie said. “Were the two of you friends?”
“Absolutely,” Bets said, her face perfectly polite. “Sisters really, in Christ.”
Sadie had a hard time believing her.
Green Bean Bow Tie Salad
3 Roma tomatoes, diced (the riper the better)
11/2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
11/2 tablespoons olive oil
2 teaspoons dried basil
1 teaspoon sea salt
3 cups dry bow tie pasta
2 cups fresh green beans, ends removed and broken into 1-inch pieces
Combine diced tomatoes, vinegar, olive oil, basil, and sea salt in a bowl. Set aside. In a large pan, heat 1 quart of salted water to boiling. Add pasta, stirring to separate as it cooks. Boil pasta for 5 minutes. Add green beans and boil 6 more minutes, or until pasta is tender. Drain pasta and beans in a colander and return to cooking pot. Add tomato-vinegar mixture while pasta and beans are still hot. Stir together. Adjust seasoning as needed. Transfer salad to serving bowl. Serve warm or at room temperature. Chill leftovers.
Note: To spice it up, add 1/2 cup diced red onion and/or black olives to the tomato-vinegar mixture. Also, 1/2 cup crisp bacon, diced, makes the salad even more fabulous.
Chapter 23
It must have been very difficult when you learned of her death,” Sadie said, watching Bets closely.
“It was awful,” Bets said, her voice low. She fiddled with the collar of her husband’s shirt, smoothing it down and not meeting Sadie’s eyes. “But I find peace in knowing that she was saved through grace.”
“Yes, that is a powerful balm,” Sadie said.
“To make the wounded whole,” Pastor Darryl added. “‘For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by His grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.’”
“P.D.,” someone called out, causing all three of them to turn toward the volleyball game. “Jana had to go home, and we’re short a member. Come help us out, brah. We’re three points from winning this thing!”
Immediate protests rose from the opposing team, but Pastor Darryl—or P.D.—was all smiles as he unwound himself from his wife and stood, raising his hands above his head as though already claiming victory. “‘And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’”
He stopped by Sadie’s chair and placed his hand on her arm again. He was a very touchy-feely man. “Will you stay so we can visit some more after I show these kids who’s the kahuna?”
“Sure,” Sadie said with a smile. Even though he made her a little uncomfortable, he was really quite charming. He gave her a thumbs-up and headed into the fray. Sadie watched Bets watch her husband for a few seconds until she turned back to Sadie, not looking as comfortable without her husband there.
“Well, I better get to work on serving the dessert.”
Sadie instantly got to her feet. “Can I help? I’ve been known to be rather handy in the kitchen.”
“Oh, uh, sure,” Bets said in a tone that clearly said she’d rather do it herself. Sadie took it at face value. “If you’ll just follow me.”
Sadie followed her through the back door of the church, which opened into a small foyer with two chairs on one side and a phone on the wall between them. At the end of the foyer was a hallway that stretched in both directions. Bets turned left, and Sadie followed her through the first door on the left and into a utilitarian kitchen with gold-sparkle-embedded Formica countertops and a worn linoleum floor. It smelled like chocolate, and Sadie felt her mouth begin to water.
On the wall across from the door was a scripture written in elegant lettering: “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.” It wasn’t the King James translation, but Sadie recognized it as one of the beatitudes given by Jesus during the Sermon on the Mount. The design of the lettering, full of wispy curls and elegant flourishes, only amplified the beautiful meaning of the words. The border done with scrollwork and flowers further enhanced the good news of the scriptural passage.
“This is lovely,” Sadie said, approaching the words that took up most of the wall. She’d assumed it was the vinyl lettering so popular back in Colorado, but when she got close, she realized it was paint. “Someone hand painted this?”
Bets didn’t answer, and Sadie looked at her in time to catch the humble smile.
“You did this?”
Bets shrugged.
“You’re a woman of many talents,” Sadie said, moving toward the stainless steel island in the center of the room. “I already sampled your cooking, and you’re an artist as well.” She waved toward the wall. “It’s extraordinary.”
“Thank you,” Bets said, inclining her head. She retrieved an ice cream scoop from a drawer, and though Sadie wasn’t done admiring the mural, she could tell Bets was uncomfortable with the attention so she let it go.
Bets opened the fridge and pulled out a jar of maraschino cherries and a three-pack of canned whipping cream. She set everything on the counter and lifted the lid of a slow cooker, increasing the smell of chocolate that Sadie had noted upon entering the room.
“What’s for dessert?” Sadie asked.
“Banana splits. It’s a congregational favorite.”
“You made the hot fudge from scratch?”
Bets shrugged as though it was no big deal. “The slow cooker keeps it warm. There’s caramel and pineapple topping too.” She waved toward two metal bowls on the counter. “I got them out of the fridge earlier so they wouldn’t be cold.”
“Sounds delicious,” Sadie said. “What can I help with?”
“I just need to get everything ready to go before we take it outside,” Bets said, unplugging the hot fudge. “Could you stir the caramel and pineapple toppings?” She pulled open a drawer and handed Sadie two spoons.
“Sure,” Sadie said, glad Bets was letting her do something. “So how long have you and Pastor Darryl been married?”
“Just over sixteen years,” Bets said, opening a cupboard beside the stove and removing a serving tray. She put the cherries and the whipping cream on the tray, then moved around the kitchen, gathering plastic spoons, bowls, and napkins from various cupboards and drawers.
Sadie removed the plastic wrap from the caramel—also homemade, she guessed—and began to stir it smooth. “Was he already the pastor when you two met?”
“He was a youth pastor,” Bets said, pulling open the freezer where two gallons of vanilla ice cream lay waiting. “I’d moved to Kalaheo and met up with him through a fellowship meeting here. Whe
n Pastor Hani moved back to the Big Island, Darryl was asked to serve in his place.” She shrugged. “We got married right here about six months after he took over the congregation, and we’ve been serving together ever since.”
“That’s wonderful,” Sadie said, glad that Bets seemed to be softening up a little. “I love hearing people’s stories. God is a clever matchmaker.”
“Yes, He certainly is,” Bets said, giving Sadie another dazzling smile. She had the longest eyelashes Sadie had ever seen, and if not for the fact that Sadie couldn’t identify any makeup on the woman, she’d have been sure they were fake. But nothing about Bets seemed phony in any way. She had natural fingernails, wore no jewelry except a simple wedding band, and yet there was an unease with herself that Sadie couldn’t figure out.
Banana Split Page 15
