Veils and Vengeance

by Rachelle J. Christensen

“Thanks for sharing this with me,” I said. “I can see it was difficult for you, but I want you to know that it means a lot to me.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.” He frowned and the frustration seemed to emanate from him.

  “What’s wrong?” I studied his face, trying to decide if he was angry at me or himself.

  “Nothing.” He leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. “I just thought that it would feel different.”

  “Luke, what you just shared with me was the single most beautiful part of the world I’ve ever witnessed. I could stand there all day and soak in that peace.”

  He didn’t say anything. I wondered if it was because he was too overcome with memories of his wife. “I want to tell you something,” I whispered. “I’ve opened the door to my pain and taken a look inside. It hurts. A lot. But I did it anyway.” I put my hand on his arm, wishing that I could embrace him or switch some lever to help him release the sorrow he held onto. “I finally realized that I was holding onto the pain as a way to protect myself.”

  He lifted his head a fraction of an inch, and I tilted mine to meet his gaze. “What do you mean?”

  “I think you’re doing the same thing.” I looked into his dark blue eyes. “Would Dana really want you to lock your heart away? To be unhappy and cynical for the rest of your life?”

  “You don’t know Dana. Don’t act like you do.”

  “I didn’t say I knew her. I asked you—the person who knew her best—what she would want you to do. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but if you can’t answer that question honestly, then I don’t know why I’m even wasting my breath talking to you.” The last sentence snapped out, harsher than it should have but I didn’t take it back.

  His eyes narrowed, and he faced forward putting the car into drive. I folded my arms tightly across my chest as he pulled out onto the road and headed down the canyon. “I’m doing the best I can, Adri.” Luke glanced at me and then focused on the road.

  I chewed on my lip, trying to think of the right words to say. “No, I don’t think you are. I think that your best is much better than this half-dead kind of living you’re doing now. I’m not trying to say it doesn’t hurt to lose someone you love, or that you’ll ever really get over it. But this is not your best effort at living—you can do better.”

  Luke pursed his lips, but didn’t answer. I fell asleep on the drive home, dreaming of flying out over the Na Pali coast and tugging at Luke’s hand, trying to get him to take flight with me.

  Chapter 14

  PINEAPPLE UPSIDE DOWN CAKE

  1/4 cup butter or margarine

  1 cup packed brown sugar

  1 can (20 oz) pineapple slices in juice, drained, juice reserved

  1 jar (6 oz) maraschino cherries without stems, drained

  1 box yellow cake mix

  Tip* Use ½ cup reserved pineapple juice and ½ cup water instead of just water in the cake mix.

  Heat oven to 350°F. In 13x9-inch pan, melt butter in oven. Sprinkle brown sugar evenly over butter. Arrange pineapple slices on brown sugar. Place cherry in center of each pineapple slice, and spread remaining cherries around slices; press gently into brown sugar.

  Add enough water to reserved pineapple juice to measure 1 cup. Make cake batter as directed on box, substituting pineapple juice mixture for the water. Pour batter over pineapple and cherries.

  Bake about 45 minutes. Immediately run knife around side of pan to loosen cake. Place heatproof serving plate upside down onto pan; turn plate and pan over. Leave pan over cake 5 minutes so brown sugar topping can drizzle over cake; remove pan. Cool 30 minutes. Serve warm with fresh whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

  Courtesy of www.mashedpotatoesandcrafts.com

  When we arrived at the hotel, I didn’t wait for Luke to get my door. He was still brooding, so I thanked him and then hurried toward my room. I didn’t even look behind to see if he followed me, even though I really wanted to. He needed space. We had both said some hard things, and I didn’t want to fight with him, or make him feel worse about the situation.

  Anger and disappointment tapped at my heart, reminding me that it was best left caged and protected. Every time I put myself in a vulnerable situation, I ended up hurt. As I thought about it more, I understood exactly why Luke behaved the way he did. I slumped onto the loveseat in my room and held my arms tight across my chest. Hunger pains squeezed my stomach, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten. Luke probably had planned something and then axed that after our blowup at the lookout.

  Even though I wasn’t in the mood to play nice, I tried to see the situation from his point of view. He’d taken me to that place for a reason. It was sacred to him, and he wanted to share it with me, but the emotions had been too great for him to handle. Since he was a man—at least that was the excuse I gave him—he’d lashed out when the feelings became too real. Luke didn’t know how to deal with all the memories of his wife that had probably come to the surface while looking out at the Na Pali coastline.

  Goosebumps popped out on my arms, and I swiped a hand across my eyes. I’d caught a glimpse of the real Luke today, before he’d shoved that version of himself in a corner. What would it be like to spend time with the tender and caring Luke who had loved his wife so deeply? With a sigh, I rose from the love seat. I couldn’t help Luke until he decided to help himself, and I wasn’t sure what needed to happen for him to decide life was worth the risk to enjoy, instead of just enduring.

  The hunger pains hadn’t ceased, so I decided to head out to see what some of the hotel restaurants had to offer. I scanned the dining room for signs of PFI activists and Chelsea, but the hotel was relatively quiet. Tuesday night probably wasn’t usually a busy night for them. That made it easier for me to find a quiet booth in the restaurant where I ordered soup and a sandwich. By the time I’d eaten, I was more at ease. I’d sent up several prayers in Luke’s behalf and reminded myself that I needed to be forgiving and understanding of his loss. But another part of me was still disgruntled about the bit of hope that clung to the gates of my heart, wishing that Luke would give me a reason to open them for good.

  I walked through the lobby in a semi-daze with a belly full of yummy pineapple upside down cake. When the waitress offered me a slice of the moist cake just as I was finishing my meal, I couldn’t resist the fresh Hawaiian pineapple amidst the warm yellow cake with brown sugar bits dotting the sides. Another slice would have been perfectly sinful, but I was tempted to return to the restaurant and bury my dating woes in brown sugar and pineapple. I paused to look back at the restaurant and then continued walking toward my room, and bumped into Malia.

  “Adri, I’ve been looking all over for you. There’s a problem with my veil. I left it in the lobby while I was hunting for you.” Malia tugged on my hand and I followed her to the lobby. “What have you been up to?”

  “Oh, just eating the most divine pineapple upside down cake on the island and wishing I could eat the whole cake.”

  “Uh-oh.” Malia stopped and looked closely into my eyes. “What’s stressing you out?”

  I waved my hand. “Nothing really. You know how I get worked up over the details. Now what’s the problem with your veil?”

  Malia groaned. “Everything. I looked at so many veils before ordering this one and it’s still not right. I’m hoping that you can help me fix it.”

  “Um, okay.” Malia had struggled to pick out a veil that fit perfectly with her dress. Lorea had offered to make one for her, but in the end she’d ordered one from another bridal boutique out of Chicago.

  Malia approached the concierge desk, which thankfully was absent of Chelsea at the moment. She pulled a garment bag from the desk and unzipped it, removing a bright swath of white silk and rayon. A wreath of rhinestones was attached to the veil. Malia held it up and frowned. “It’s all wrong for my dress.”

  “It’s a beautiful veil, but you’re right,” I said. “It doesn’t go with your dress.” Malia’s d
ress was simple and sleek, form-fitting with a no-nonsense train attached to the back. What made it stand out was the intricate embroidery on the bodice. I pictured her dress in my mind, concentrating on its beautiful simplicity. The veil had several layers and it would overpower the dress. “You need something softer, simpler.”

  “I’m trying not to panic. I said I wouldn’t be that kind of bride.” Malia took hold of my hand and squeezed. “I don’t need to panic, right?”

  I chuckled. “You don’t need to panic. We’ll figure something out. Let me take the veil. I can webcam Lorea. Maybe we can even remodel this one. The main problem is it’s too big in contrast to your dress.”

  “Thank you!” Malia hugged me. “I knew you’d be able to help.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, but don’t panic either. We’ve got three days.”

  “Remember I’m getting some bridal pictures done on Thursday.”

  I forced myself to smile instead of grimace. “Oh, that’s right. A little more pressure, but Lorea is a genius. Let’s see what we can come up with.”

  “I’m going to stop by a couple shops here, but I’m not super hopeful,” Malia said. “I don’t want it to be cheesy, but I’d like something that’s indicative of the island.”

  “That might be more difficult.” I had sudden visions of hibiscus flowers smeared across the bright red and yellow shirts and colorful mumus I’d seen all over the island. “I’ll call you if I think of anything.”

  Malia waved as she hurried out the front of the hotel. I looked at the veil in my hand, wondering what I’d just gotten myself into.

  Within twenty minutes, I had connected with Lorea via the Internet and filled her in on the dilemma. I held up the veil in front of my computer and let her study every angle, while I mentioned what Malia had requested.

  Lorea smoothed her short black hair and one of her eyebrows slanted upwards as she studied the layers of material. She cleared her throat and leaned forward. “You need plumeria, not the yellow one. The reddish-purple one.”

  “Plumeria? How is that going to fix the veil?”

  “Didn’t you say Jon gave you a lei?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Remove one of the flowers,” Lorea interrupted. “We’re going to do a mock-up for Malia.”

  “Okay.” I hesitated for half a second, wondering what Lorea had planned. The lei was in the fridge, so I carefully removed it and pulled it from the plastic bag. Muttering under my breath, I detached one of the fragrant blossoms from the string and held it up to the computer for Lorea to see.

  “Perfect. Now I want you to show me the layers of the veil and I’m going to tell you where to snip the threads. Ready?”

  My sewing kit was ready. No certified wedding planner should be without an emergency sewing kit. Under Lorea’s supervision, I was able to pick out the threads joining three of the five layers of the veil. The material flowed noiselessly onto the bed as I rearranged the remaining two layers, a soft white blend of silk and rayon.

  “Now clip the flower onto the left side of the veil, right next to the material.” Lorea motioned from the computer screen, and I wished for the hundredth time that she was on site. My fingers fumbled with the delicate plumeria, and I held it carefully while I pushed a straight pin through the fragrant blossom.

  I held the veil up and examined my handiwork. Under Lorea’s tutelage, the veil looked completely different. “Lorea, you are amazing.”

  Lorea’s dark eyes sparkled. “Aren’t you glad I’m not a kokolo?” She laughed as she referred to the word “dummy” in her native Basque tongue.

  I laughed. “You’re brilliant, definitely not a kokolo, but you already know that.” I grabbed my cell phone and took a picture of the veil to send to Malia. “I think this just might work.”

  Lorea’s face moved in and out of focus on my computer screen. “Tell her that she could do a cluster of three plumeria instead of the one.”

  “That would be gorgeous.” I snapped a few more pictures and sent them to Malia. After taking off the extra layers of fabric, the veil was lightweight and simple. The flowers were the special island touch she needed without overpowering the simplicity of the sheer white material. “I’m sorry she didn’t go with you in the first place.”

  Lorea shrugged. “I think maybe she needed to figure out what she wanted. Speaking of, you have some reporting to do.”

  “What?” I infused my voice with innocence.

  “You’ve mentioned Jon a few times, and I know Luke is there, so what’s the deal?”

  I slumped into the chair and rested my cheek in my hand with a sigh. “It’s complicated.”

  “Girl, you have a knack for making things complicated.”

  She was teasing, but I still straightened and gave her the evil eye. “Says my very single friend.”

  Lorea rolled her eyes. “Remember, I went on a date.”

  “Wait—you still haven’t told me? Who was it?”

  “Uh, uh, uh.” Lorea shook her finger at me. “I’m not giving you one single detail until you tell me what is up in Kauai.” She lowered her lashes and added, “And maybe not even then.”

  The events at Pu’u o Kila still burned in my chest. “I got into an argument with Luke.”

  Now it was Lorea’s turn to sigh. “You two need to kiss and get it over with.”

  “Whatever. Luke buried his heart with his wife.”

  “Ouch. Okay, so it sounds like more than just an argument.” She fiddled with the Basque cross or Lauburu she wore around her neck. Lorea always did that when she was worrying over something.

  “I just can’t get through his baggage, and I’m not sure I want to.” My heart hitched as I spoke the words that had been swirling around my mind. If only I knew what I wanted. Luke was complicated. Jon was simple, or at least he appeared to be.

  “What about Jon then?”

  “I have trust issues.”

  “I won’t argue with that.” Lorea’s voice was soft. “You don’t have to rush anything, but will you please have fun for me? I’m working my head off here.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t complain. This island is paradise. Jon is fun and he knows about my past, so he’s treading carefully, while making sure I know that he wants to kiss me.”

  “So kiss a little. You’re in Hawaii. Find a beach and a sunset and let him kiss you if Luke won’t.”

  “You’re hilarious.” I laughed and leaned back in my chair.

  “Yes, and I have an appointment, so I’ve gotta run.” She glanced to her left. “I’ll expect a full report though. Get busy.”

  “I will.” I signed off thinking that once again, Lorea had escaped the truth. I still didn’t know who her mystery date was. My phone pinged with a text from Malia. She was thrilled and would stop by soon to see the veil in person. Lorea would be happy. I thought of that word, happy. It was time for me to take charge of my happiness. My heart was lonely. I thought of Luke again and felt a pang of regret as he drifted into the background of Jon’s attentions. I wasn’t anywhere near love, but even “like” was more complicated than I was equipped to deal with. At the same time, I had a yearning to share that sunset kiss Lorea had commanded me to enjoy.

  When I thought about kissing Jon, a gold bracelet came to mind that curbed my daydream. I’d been so busy, there hadn’t been time to find any information. The bracelet was tucked in an interior pocket of my suitcase, and although it beckoned to me like some kind of magic ring, I couldn’t bring myself to look at it again. The mystery opened up too many possibilities. I’d tried my best all day to ignore those possibilities, but one question kept resurfacing. Why did Jon have a bracelet in his swim trunks?

  I shook my head and leaned back on the pillows, closing my eyes. There would be no sleep until I allowed myself to sort through my questions. With calming breaths, I let my mind go to that dark and scary underwater experience from just days earlier. In an instant the woman’s green eyes floated in my mind. I shuddered but kept myself in the
memory, mentally examining her body. Her hand floated in the water, the fingers slender and graceful. There had been a bracelet, and I thought it was gold, but maybe it wasn’t the same kind I’d found in Jon’s pocket. Maybe my brain had just connected the first thing that triggered that part of my memory.

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes. There must be a simple explanation, and I wouldn’t jump to conclusions. Finding the bracelet had helped me to remember that I’d seen one on the woman’s arm, but it didn’t necessarily mean it was the same exact one. Officer Kinau had asked me to call him if I remembered anything at all from that day but when I thought about reporting my memory of the bracelet, it seemed weak and suspicious. Until I talked to Jon and asked him my questions, it didn’t seem right to say anything to the police.

  The Connelly family all seemed approachable, especially Heather, but there was no way I could share my suspicions. It probably wasn’t a good idea to share the memory of the woman wearing a gold bracelet that was triggered because I found an identical one in her son’s swim shorts. I groaned. It would be nice to talk to someone, but not until I understood what the bracelet had to do with Jon.

  It was time for a distraction. I pulled out my laptop and propped myself up on a pile of pillows on my bed. The door to my balcony was slightly ajar and the curtain swayed with the ocean breeze. It was a beautiful setting, and I wanted to concentrate on something less stressful for a few moments. The progressive photo display was almost complete. All I needed to do was go through the last batch of photos that Malia had emailed me.

  I unzipped the file and waited for the pictures to load. There was probably about fifty more pictures in this batch to sort through. I selected a few that I thought might finish off the holes in my collage and attached those in an email to Lorea. I’d asked Malia for a few photos that showed Kyle working at Tri-C and she’d obliged with about a dozen new pictures.

  There was a silver-haired man and a woman with auburn hair that kept showing up in some of the recent photos. They appeared to be related to Tri-C so I filed those with a note to find out if the people were important to Kyle. I didn’t want to add a photo to their wedding present if it included someone that Kyle didn’t really care for.