Of course he knew. Why should I be surprised?
“I don’t know how this happened. I mean, I haven’t exactly done anything wrong—” Memories popped up like weeds—all three rum-and-Coke nights with Eli, a cigarette here and there with Lisa and Madison, trash-talking Jodi. Sometimes Connor.
I smoothed my skirt over my legs. “Or I haven’t done anything irreversible, anyway. I just don’t understand how I got on this path.” After a second, I added, “It wasn’t just you.”
“I hope not.”
But even if it wasn’t “just” Connor, it was at least part Connor. He’d left to support Jodi, who’d miraculously become a Christian while trying to steal Connor from me. And because she’d needed him more, Jodi had won.
Abbie had been busy with Owen, and my parents with each other. My youth coach, Heather, was preoccupied with her new boyfriend. And the only other good influence left was Connor’s mom, Amy. I just couldn’t talk to her. Especially about the Eli stuff.
And without all them, I’d been left in the hands of Lisa, Madison, Eli, and John.
After my initial fall—the first rum-and-Coke night with Eli over spring break—I’d been good about avoiding tempting situations. But slowly the line of right and wrong—or maybe just my feelings about right and wrong—began to blur.
“Maybe it’s too much about you.”
I blinked at Connor. “What?”
“Your relationship with God. Maybe you’re having problems because you’re not really doing what he’s asking.”
“But he’s not asking me to do anything.”
“Or maybe you’re not listening.”
I thought of that party nearly a year ago, when God so clearly called me back to him. “He’s God. When God talks, I don’t think you have a choice about whether or not to listen. If he were talking, I’d hear.”
Connor considered this. “My mom always explained it to me like a cell phone. You can only ignore it for so long before it needs to be plugged in. Otherwise the calls might not come through. Sure, he’s God and doesn’t need a charged battery or a signal or whatever analogy you want to use. And he might use a miracle sometimes to place a call, but it’d be a lot easier if you’d plug in your phone.”
“I just need to get away.” My mantra for the last three months. “I’ll recharge, or whatever, in Kauai.”
“When do you come back?” Connor asked, his hands busy in his hair.
The date on my ticket said August 13. Two months away, and it still sounded too soon. I needed more time.
I had this fantasy of sequestering myself to Hawaii for all of college. I wouldn’t even come home for holidays or summers. And when I did come home after graduation, I’d blow people away. I’d be elegant and smart and on track to do something worthwhile with my life. And I’d have that quality about me—the quality I saw in Heather and Amy. Inner peace so strong it shined for all to see.
I couldn’t do all that in two months.
“Skylar?”
“Sorry.” I brought myself back to the present, with Skylar-the-disappointment. “August 13.”
“Can I call you when you’re there?”
I bit my lip so I wouldn’t blurt out YES. “Why would you want to do that?”
“You know why.”
“I already told you. This is over.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“I don’t feel the way I used to about you,” I said, which was true. I used to think of Connor as someone who always looked out for my best interest. Jodi changed that. If we got back together, I’d have to figure out how to forgive him, and it was easier to stay angry. Surely I’d stop loving him soon. People were always saying high school relationships didn’t last. My mom had spent the whole winter telling me that. How I hoped she was right.
I looked at Connor and saw my words had hurt him. Of course they had. They were supposed to. How else could I make it clear to him? He didn’t want me. Well, he did, but only because I was messy and that’s how Connor liked his girls—beautiful fixer-uppers. But when I came back from Hawaii—if I came back—I’d no longer need fixing up. I’d be strong, peaceful, and focused.
And over him.
4
When we arrived at Grammy and Papa’s house Thursday evening, after my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I spotted the kitchen table. It’d been set for eight, complete with eight mismatched chairs. I quickly recalculated—two of them and four of us. Five if you counted Owen, but he didn’t require a chair or a place setting.
Mom apparently noticed too. “Who else are we expecting, Mom?”
Grammy grinned. “Two of the nicest boys moved into the Whites’ old house last week. Christian boys. Nice-looking ones.” She jabbed her knobby elbow into my ribs and winked. “One of them is single.”
“Oh, Mom,” my own mother groaned.
“And if you ask me, he’s the cutest one. Not sure how the other ended up with a girlfriend and Justin didn’t. But he’ll be perfect for our Skylar.”
Behind Grammy’s back, Mom mouthed, “Sorry.”
“Leilani, leave the poor girl alone,” Papa said as he shuffled past with a suitcase in each hand. “She probably already has a boyfriend.”
“Well, she might be willing to trade him in when she gets a look at Justin.”
“I don’t know,” Abbie said as she unbuckled Owen from his infant carrier. “Eli’s pretty smokin’.”
“Eli?” Dad echoed. “Are you back with Eli?”
It took a lot of work not to glare at Abbie, which would only make me look guilty. “No.”
“She totally could be, though,” Abbie said, nestling sleepy Owen against her shoulder.
“Of course she could.” Dad hung an arm over my shoulders. “Skylar could date whomever she wanted.”
I forced a smile. “So you guys leave in how many days?”
They all laughed as if I joked.
“Go freshen up, honey.” Grammy nudged me down the narrow, dark hall to the bathroom.
When I gave Mom a “help me!!” look, she followed.
She closed us into the tiny bathroom. “I’m so sorry,” she said, inches from my face.
Grammy and Papa’s house wasn’t that old—Hurricane Iniki guaranteed that little in Kapaa was older than a couple decades. Yet everything was narrow or little or dark or outdated. I couldn’t imagine my classy mom growing up with Grammy, who bought almost all her furniture at garage sales, then used it for another lifetime or so. Though maybe it’s why every room in our house boasted a different shade of white and had that no-one-lives-here look.
“This is totally weird,” I said. “Our plane barely touched down an hour ago, and already she’s fixing me up?”
“I know.” Mom wrung her hands together. “I should’ve warned you—”
“You knew about this?” I struggled to keep my voice low. You could hear everything in this house.
“Not this exactly.” Mom gestured toward the kitchen. “But I could’ve guessed she’d do something before too long. I’m sure she’s been entertaining fantasies about you falling in love with some nice island boy from a family she’s known all her life. Then she thinks you’ll stay here and raise your kids in a place where she can butt into everything you’re doing.” Mom took a deep breath.
I bit back a smile. Seeing her like this, all frazzled, made me wonder about a few months ago when she wanted to leave Dad and move Abbie and me out here. Somehow, I think we might have ended up right back in good ol’ KC.
“So, what do I do?” I asked.
Mom gave me a once-over. “Brush your hair or something and we’ll just deal with it tonight. I’ll have a talk with Mom tomorrow.” With that, she turned and abandoned me.
I did brush my hair, but not for what’s-his-name.
When I emerged, Grammy eyed my outfit. With a furrowed brow, she asked Mom, “Are these normal things to wear on the mainland?”
Abbie turned away, but I could still hear her snickering.
I smoothed the ragged edge of my skirt—I’d gone for an island chic look and had achieved it just fine, thank you. “I’m not changing my clothes.”
Mom shrugged and continued washing her hands. Grammy sighed and looked at me again, clearly disappointed.
I distracted myself with Owen, who’d woken up and was wriggling on a blanket spread on the floor of the tiny living room. I lay next to him. He smiled and rolled to his side. “Hey, pal.” I maneuvered my finger for him to grasp, which never failed to make me tingle with delight. “How do you like Hawaii? Ready to get a tan?”
“Anything’s better than that plane, huh, Owen?” Abbie said without looking up from her phone. She’d stretched out on the faded plaid couch.
“Who are you texting?” I asked.
“Chris. He wanted me to tell him when we arrived.”
A few seconds later, her phone pinged and Abbie smiled. “Connor says to tell you hi.”
I didn’t answer, just focused on playing with Owen’s teeny fingers. His dark eyes fixed on the rays of sunlight hitting the worn carpet.
“Should I text him hi back?”
“If I wanted to say hi to him, I’d text him myself.”
“Skylar’s not here,” Abbie said, nice and slow as if speaking each word as she typed it. “She’s getting ready for a date.”
“Abbie.” I groaned. “You shouldn’t lie.”
“If I’d sent it five minutes ago, I wouldn’t have been lying.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not five minutes ago, now is it?”
“C’mon, let me have my fun. A little jealousy would do Connor some good.”
I thought of his blank expression when Eli and I climbed out of the back of the Land Rover. It wasn’t like Connor to hide his emotions. It rattled me.
Abbie’s phone pinged again and she laughed a big “ha!” She resumed typing.
I wouldn’t ask. I so didn’t want to know.
“What now?” I asked, cringing.
“I’m explaining that we’ve barely stepped in the door, but Grammy’s trying to convince you to stay permanently by finding you a man.”
“How do you know that?”
“I overheard you and Mom in the bathroom.”
Of course. “I’m taking Owen outside.”
She grinned wickedly. “Pretty eager to meet this guy, huh?”
I ignored her and stomped outside. Away from the dark house, the odor of frying fish, and my bratty little sister. Who only seemed to be in a good mood these days when picking on me. Go figure.
You couldn’t see the ocean from Grammy and Papa’s place. Papa said it was a twenty-minute walk to the closest beach, but I’d guess it was more like fifteen. He didn’t get around so well anymore.
Owen gurgled and waved his arms as the wind blew on his face. He seemed happy, but at three and a half months old, interpreting his emotions could be tricky.
“You gonna laugh for me, Owen?” I asked, poking at his round tummy. We were all anxious for that first giggle.
I settled onto the front steps and surveyed the small, ragged yard. Our yard in Kansas came to mind, several times this size with thick, dark grass, and a strange feeling enveloped my heart. Could it be . . . ? Surely not. Surely I wasn’t homesick already. I pushed away the ridiculous thought and bounced Owen on my knee.
Across the street, the screen door of a tiny yellow house opened and out stepped two guys. Probably a little older than me, but not much.
“I’d say we’re looking at my date,” I murmured in Owen’s ear. “Which one do you think he is?”
But Owen had fixated on the swaying fronds of the palm trees and didn’t offer his opinion.
As the guys came closer—dressed in nice jeans and collars—it surprised me that neither of them appeared to be Hawaiian. Instead, they looked like the same losers I’d left back home. Great.
They’d been speaking to each other in low voices as they crossed the blacktop, but when they noticed me, they became silent. On the front lawn, they stopped walking and smiled.
“Hi,” I said. It seemed someone should.
“Hi,” they echoed.
I stood, adjusting Owen in my arms. “Dinner’s almost ready. Come on in.”
I couldn’t tell which of the two might be the single one, who Grammy claimed to be the better-looking of the two. They both seemed okay to me—combed hair, straight teeth. The basics.
They wordlessly followed me inside. I anticipated an awkward, silent evening. Very unlike the night I met Connor. How I hated to think about it now, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from remembering the way he’d shaken my hand, looked me in the eyes, and smiled. He’d instantly marked himself as different to me. A little strange, maybe, but different. Had that really only been last summer? It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Oh, you’re right on time!” Grammy bustled over to the door, the skirt of her muumuu swaying. “I see you’ve already met my Skylar and our great-grandson, Owen. And where’s Abbie?” Grammy craned her neck. “Abbie, come here, dear heart.”
“Just a sec,” Abbie said, sounding distracted.
From where I stood, I could see she’d continued her texting in my absence. Great. She probably had me half in love with one of the speechless boys.
Grammy continued her introductions without Abbie. “That’s my daughter, Teri”—Mom waved from the kitchen—“and her husband, Paul.”
Dad shook each of their hands with what looked to be a firm grip. “Nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I didn’t catch your names.”
“Oh my lands, I completely forgot. This is Chase and Justin. And they look like brothers, but they aren’t.”
Other than having similar shades of brown hair, they didn’t look all that similar to me. Justin stood slightly taller and had broader shoulders. He caught me looking and smiled. Not bad.
“Hey, boys,” Papa said as he entered the room. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“You changed your shirt,” Grammy said. Her face scrunched with disapproval, although his new shirt didn’t look any more or less tacky than the previous.
Papa settled into his seat at the head of the table. “Owen spit up on the other.”
I smoothed Owen’s hair. “He’s dangerous.”
“He’s cute,” Justin said, caressing Owen’s plump cheek. “How old?”
“Three and a half months.”
“Everybody have a seat.” Grammy shuffled toward the rickety table. “Let’s see. Paul, Teri, I put you two here. Skylar, this is your glass, and Justin, why don’t you sit next to her?”
Shocking. I bit back a grin, and when I glanced at Justin, I caught him doing the same. So it appeared we both understood the obvious setup taking place. At least that might make this amusing instead of painfully awkward.
“Where’s Abbie?” Dad asked as we all claimed our seats. “I’m coming!” she said from the living room.
“Put that phone down right now.” Mom’s singsong voice didn’t fit with the command. Since Owen had arrived, Mom and Dad seemed a little lost on how to parent Abbie.
“And bring Owen’s bouncy seat when you do,” I added. At the sound of his name, Owen flashed me a gummy grin. “I can only balance you on my lap for so long.”
Mom reached across the table. “Let Grandma take him.” “My niece is about six months old,” Justin said. “My sister says there’s nothing quite like being a mom.”
“Does your sister live here?”
Justin opened his mouth to answer, but Grammy took it upon herself to do it for him.
“Justin’s entire family lives in Cumberland, Maryland. He moved here just last week with Chase and Chase’s girlfriend. They don’t know anyone but us.”
“I’m sure they know other people,” Papa said. “They work, they go to church.”
“What I meant is they don’t have any friends. That’s why it’s so perfect that they’d move in just as Skylar comes to stay.”
“Abigail Marie!” Dad boomed.
“Coming, coming.”
“Come now. Everyone’s waiting on you.”
“Oh, don’t bother her, Paul,” Grammy said. When her voice took on that frosty quality, she reminded me of Mom. Grammy and Papa had never liked Dad much. His eloping with their college-aged daughter had turned them off, no matter how rich and successful he’d turned out to be. I don’t know if they knew Mom was pregnant with me when they got married. I’d only found out in January.
Abbie dropped Owen’s bouncy seat to the floor space between us and slid into the empty chair beside me. Odd that Grammy hadn’t flanked me with the boys to better my chances.
“Let’s pray,” Papa said, holding out his hands.
My stomach lurched as I remembered—they held hands when they prayed. In general, I wasn’t much of a toucher, and that especially applied when it came to prayer. The few times I’d gone to youth group, they made us hold hands when we prayed and it always felt flat-out awkward to me. And with Grammy seating me next to Justin . . .
I sucked it up and laid my hand out there for him to take. As he gingerly placed his hand on top of mine, his cheeks pinkened, which I had to admit was kinda cute.
When Papa finished praying, Abbie slid her phone onto my lap. A text message from Chris filled the screen: Have your sis call my bro. His pining is driving me crazy.
I shoved the phone away and helped myself to the fish. “Everything smells great, Grammy,” I said with a big smile. I had only two months to get myself over Connor. I couldn’t afford to be slowed down by contact with him.
By the time we got to dessert, I felt like a contender on a really lousy reality show. Justin and I said very little to each other because Grammy did all the talking for us.
“Skylar, Justin’s working at Kiahuna Plantation. And he’s studying hotel management.”
“Justin, Skylar thinks she should go back to Kansas in August for school. I’ve been telling her what a wonderful education she can get at UH. Don’t you agree?”
“Justin, I don’t think Skylar’s ever been on a surfboard. Isn’t that right, honey?”
I swallowed my spoonful of chocolate pudding. “Uh, no, I haven’t.”
“Don’t you boys surf?” Grammy asked with an innocent glance at them.
So Over It Page 3
