Aloha in Love

by Watts, Jennifer

  Adele and Kayla offer to take me back to their place, but I insist that I’m fine to drive. Other than a small cut on my forehead and a sore throat, I feel fine—and very lucky. I drive around for awhile until the navy blue sky fades to black, and when I finally feel ready to head back home, the first thing I see is Kane’s Jeep parked at a forty five degree angle in the driveway. I don’t know why I’m nervous to see him now, but his reaction has me reeling. I don’t know whether to be angry or scared or both. I park and walk straight over to Kane’s place with my head held high, but it’s Taylor who intercepts me when he answers the door.

  “He doesn’t want to see you, Ashley.” Exhaustion spills from his voice.

  “I don’t care what he wants. He doesn’t get to make that decision.”

  “It isn’t pretty right now.” He says, kind of cryptically, but I ignore the comment and press onwards.

  “What gives him the right to up and leave me like that?”

  “It’s not about entitlement, Ashley, you know that. It’s just a reaction. I haven’t seen him this bad since…” He trails off.

  “Since the big thing that he refuses to talk about happened, yeah, I get it. But I’m coming in whether you like it or not.”

  Taylor sags his weight against the door. “No point in coming inside. He’s out back.”

  I don’t even say goodbye before marching straight through the garden and onto the back lawn. There are no lights on inside, so I don’t see him hunched over on the ground at first, but when the moonlight hits him, I get the full effect. He’s on his knees, collapsed in the middle of the concrete filled pool. I can hear him softly crying. I approach him one step at a time, moving across the uneven stone until I’m close enough to sink down onto my knees beside him.

  “Go away,” he mumbles, swinging a half empty bottle of Grey Goose around in a circle.

  “No.”

  “I said go away!” He screams, louder than I’ve heard him yell before, but his words are slurred, no doubt from the vodka.

  “I won’t, not until you give me some answers.”

  “You want answers?” He laughs before taking a swig from the bottle. “I got answers. They were right.”

  “Who was right?”

  “All of them.” He answers with a riddle again. “When they said it.”

  “Right about what? Said what?”

  “That I killed my family. It’s true.” He hiccups back a sob. “It’s true that I killed them. They are dead because of me.”

  Chapter 25

  For a brief moment, I’m struck speechless, a thousand thoughts swirling around inside my head. I mean, logically, I know that he can’t mean what he’s saying. I remind myself that he’s distraught and drunk and his words can’t be trusted. I’m about to ask him more, but he saves me the trouble.

  “We were always fighting about something—his mother and I. One thing or another. We were so wrong for each other from the beginning, but we were both too stubborn and loyal to do anything about it. Maybe if we had…” He stares into the distance, lost in thought.

  “Your wife you mean?”

  “Anna.” He nods his head. “That time, we were fighting about money. She wanted to renovate the kitchen again. She was always so bored, always looking for the next thing to fill her up. I swear he was right at her side when we were in the kitchen. Kaiden grew up at the beach. I had him on a surfboard when he was one-year-old; he knew the water.”

  My stomach drops, and I immediately know where this is going. I make a move to touch and comfort him, but he just shrugs me off.

  “Somehow he managed to slip under the pool cover, and because of that, it took time to find him—longer than it should have. There was no screaming, no splashing, no noise. He was just there and then he wasn’t…and it’s all my fault.” With those last words, he cries so hard that I struggle to understand what he’s saying.

  “What kind of father lets that happen right under his nose?”

  “I don’t think that’s a fair question to ask.”

  He holds up a hand to silence me. “Do you know, Ashley Walsh, that it only takes about four minutes for irreversible brain damage to happen when you’re underwater?” He falls back against the rough concrete, breathing in tune with the heavy rhythm of the crashing sea. “And drowning, let me tell you, that’s not something you want to Google. It’s supposed to be the worst kind of death. I read one article that called it intolerable anguish. When I close my eyes, I try to imagine how he felt under that pool cover, how scared he must have been while his tiny lungs filled with water and his body slowly started to shut down. The whole time, his mom and I were upstairs bitching about granite countertops.”

  “They say you have a rescue window of sixty seconds. One fucking minute to save a life!” He roars, sitting up in a flash. “I know what you’re thinking…” He points a finger at me. “You’re thinking that sixty seconds sounds short, but it’s not short. Day after day, I watch the clock and reflect on the number of seconds in one minute, and every single day I’m reminded of what a fucking failure I am as a man—as a human being—for not being able to save my son.”

  I let the silence stretch between us; his labored breathing is the only sound filling the space. “So you plan on torturing yourself forever? This eternal purgatory where you count down the seconds and push people away?” He ignores me entirely, fixating his gaze on the ocean.

  “I remember that day like it was yesterday. The temperature outside, the smell of the ocean, the dirty streaks on the windows from his sweaty little palms, the red shirt he was wearing when I fished him out of the pool. I am forever a prisoner of that day. You don’t understand; I’ll never really be here, not fully, because I’m always there. It’s where I deserve to be.”

  “But your son isn’t there anymore, he’s not a prisoner to that day, and your wife isn’t either,” I say, softly. “I don’t know what you believe when it comes to the afterlife—most days I don’t even know what I believe—but I do believe that they would’ve moved on from that horrible day. Wouldn’t they want you to live in the present, learning day-by-day to watch the clock a little less?”

  “No one should ever have to bury their child.”

  I don’t respond, because he’s right; I don’t know what it feels like. What I do know is that he stands before me in absolute agony, and I’ll do anything to help him.

  “Thank you for telling me,” I whisper.

  “Now that you know what kind of monster I am, it’s time to run back home.” He laughs harshly, and I don’t miss the crazed look in his eyes—it’s wild and unleashed, like a man spiraling out of control.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” I say, jutting out my chin. “This is my home now.”

  “No, it’s not,” he snaps. “Don’t you understand? I can’t be with you—not now, not ever. I can’t even look at you anymore. When I pulled you from the water today, blue-lipped and barely breathing, I realized something.”

  “Realized what?” I ask, though I’m afraid of his answer.

  “That I’m going to end up killing you too.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Kane. You can’t put today on yourself. It was an accident! I went surfing—”

  “Exactly!” He shouts. “You did something dangerous that I didn’t want for you, putting your whole life in jeopardy.”

  “It was just surfing! Everybody surfs here, and if I’m not mistaken, you used to surf as well.”

  “You’re missing the point.” He moans and rubs a big hand across his tear-stained face. “I can’t stop you from doing any of that stuff, not any more than I can control the waves, but there are too few seconds in a minute. I will always worry about you.

  “Let me worry about me, Kane, but let’s figure this out together.”

  “Don’t you get it, Ashley? I don’t want to figure it out!” He shouts. “I can’t love you. Being with you gives me constant anxiety, and I don’t want to live like that. Caring about you makes the fear so much worse.”<
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  I reach forwards and place my hand on his arm. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Kane. Look at me, please. I love you.” The words rush out of my mouth, and he yanks his arm away like my hand is on fire.

  “Go home, Ashley.”

  “Please, Kane,” I beg, as my own tears filter down my cheeks. “Please listen to me. I love you.”

  He slowly gets to his feet, swaying upright and holding the now empty bottle of vodka over his head. “Go home!” He screams, almost frantic. “Get away from me!” He slams the bottle onto the concrete, where it explodes and shatters in time with my heart.

  His chest rises and falls as he stares at the fragments all over the rough concrete. I let my tears fall freely now. I need to get to my feet, but I feel paralyzed. He glances over to catch me crying and winces.

  “Just go. I’m done. This is done.” He sounds completely broken, as if every ounce of fight already left his body.

  I rise onto my wobbly legs and carry myself with as much dignity as possible back over the grass, heading in the direction of my suite. The porch light is still on, casting a welcoming light to guide me home. As I step inside, I fight the overwhelming urge to break down. I fight the urge to yell and scream and cry and throw things until there’s nothing left of the little cottage but remnants of my once-upon-a-time life here. As much as I want to fall apart, I know I can’t do that right now. Instead, I take a deep breath and do the next best thing possible right then.

  I start to pack.

  Chapter 26

  I putter around my tiny apartment in my best attempt at cleaning up before the ladies arrive. I toss the built-up pile of shoes into the closet by the front door. I remove a stack of bills and magazines from the hallway table. I don’t have much furniture—let’s face it, the space isn’t large—but the small sofa and vintage wooden coffee table that I acquired at a garage sale are decent enough. I light my coconut-milk-mango candles, putting out some wine glasses and side plates for my homemade pupus. The kitchen in my Kahului condo is almost non-existent, but as with a lot of things lately, I’ve learned to make it work.

  The one-bedroom space isn’t all that bad; in fact, it’s cute, cozy, and conveniently close to everything, including the beach. It’s also near the university and seems to be priced for students. Every time I run into a new neighbor, I feel a hundred years old. I would’ve preferred to stay in Paia, but there were very few rentals available and even fewer jobs. With everything that went down between Kane and me, it just felt a little too close. I miss Salty’s—I miss cooking there and I miss my friends—but if I’m honest with myself, mostly I just miss Kane.

  He hasn’t called, texted, or visited, and I know he won’t. One thing I learned about Kane very early on is that he doesn’t operate ambiguously. He always made his feelings crystal clear. When Pancho visited me with his wife and daughter, at the restaurant where I’m working in Lahaina, he hinted that Kane was in really rough shape, but there’s nothing I can do if he doesn’t want me around. I hear a knock at the door just as I’m setting out the sea salt caramel popcorn. Adele doesn’t wait for me to answer; she just lets herself in, making me wonder why she bothers to knock at all.

  “Kayla is parking.” She breezes inside and kisses both of my cheeks.

  By some miracle, we’ve actually managed to stick with our weekly wine and movie dates. Maui Maude joined us for the first one, but Adele later announced that they were no longer together. She decided that she liked penis infinitely more.

  “Really?” That was my response, after spitting a mouthful of California Chardonnay all over the floor.

  “Really.” She’d nodded sagely. “Even shriveled old ones. Turns out, I’m still a fan.”

  Ever since, we’ve kept movie night to just us three. We rotate our viewing selection every week. Tonight is my pick, and I’ve chosen Blue Hawaii because I’ve never seen it. Kayla bursts in with her surfboard under her arm, banging it against the hall table within two seconds of walking inside.

  “What?” She says, innocently, as I give her a look. “I’m not leaving it down there with all that riffraff running around.”

  “What took you so long?” Adele scolds.

  She snorts. “Have you seen all the frat boys around here? I got asked for my number twice on the walk up.” She rolls her eyes, but I’m not surprised. Her catalogue-looks, combined with that piss-right-off attitude, send guys after her like lost little puppies. “You need to move.” She places her board against the wall, slamming the door on her own perfect ass.

  “And go where?” I shrug. “Besides, it’s close to my new job.”

  Kayla shakes her head. “You got another job?”

  “What job?” Adele ventures.

  “It’s just a temp job, mostly office administration and general reception, but it’ll pay the bills.

  For some reason, Adele seems relieved by this news. “Nothing serious then.” She nods her approval—weird.

  Kayla collapses onto the sofa, snagging the DVD case from my hands. “Blue Hawaii? Really?”

  “Come on, musical interludes and Technicolor—it’s got to be great, right? What’s not to love?”

  “How about the fakest surfing scenes ever made,” she grumbles. “You do realize that Elvis sings about cheating on his girlfriend like five minutes into the movie?”

  I snatch the DVD case back from her and flip it over in my hands. “Well…hell.”

  “He also spanks a teenage girl, who he’s supposed to be chaperoning.”

  “Okay, forget it. I don’t even want to know.” I drop the case on the coffee table, recalling my last one-night-stand in San Fran. It was the Blue Hawaii poster that inspired my move to Hawaii.

  Her voice is smug as she dips into the popcorn. “You’re the one that picked it.”

  Adele takes the seat beside the window, but only after pouring herself a sizable glass of white wine. She holds her glass by the stem and raises it in the air.

  “To friendship, family, and my two girls—the daughters I always wanted.”

  I feel a lump forming in my throat, threatening to bring me to tears. I’ve shed too many tears over the last while, so I chase away the feeling with a big swig of wine.

  “Are you happy here?” Kayla asks.

  I’m surprised by the question, as Kayla isn’t typically one to prod. “As happy as I can be, I guess.” I mumble and fiddle with a lock of my hair.

  “You look thinner than last week.” Adele gives me the once-over. “Are you eating well?”

  I huff out a dramatic sigh. “Can we not talk about me, please? You guys walk on the same egg shells every week, and I get it—I’m sad and lonely. I don’t sleep or have an appetite. I’m a goddamn mess and I get it, so can we please just watch the movie?” I pick up the remote to hit play, but Kayla pries it from my hand.

  “Are you going to tell her, or do I have to?” She gives Adele a dark look.

  “Tell me what?” I say, exasperated.

  “I was going to ease into it, but Kayla here is no more tactful than an elephant, so I have no choice anymore. Ashley, my dear, we’re not here to watch a movie tonight.”

  “You’re not?” I say, obviously confused.

  “We’re here to bring you home.”

  “Home?”

  “Kane wants to see you.” She mutters under her breath.

  “No.”

  “He said you’d say that,” Adele says with a chuckle.

  “No shit,” I bark back.

  “My stubborn girl.” Adele smiles.

  “I love it when you swear,” Kayla adds, nodding her approval.

  “I’m not going back there. Kane made it very clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  Adele stands and places her hands on her hips. “Now you listen up, darling, the only thing Kane Keo made clear is that he’s scared, vulnerable, and so deeply in love with you that he doesn’t know what to do with his feelings.”

  “He never said he loved me,” I chall
enge. “Not once.”

  “Does he really need to? Be honest with yourself. You know he loves you because you saw it in every look and gesture.”

  “If that’s true, why not just say it?” I bark back, letting my voice crescendo.

  Kayla clears her throat. “Because he’s terrified of losing you, too, and being right back where he started—gutted and alone.” Her words surprise me, because I don’t think I’ve ever heard her defend Kane.

  “So just like that, he told you to come and collect me like some kind of object? He didn’t even bother to show up here himself?” The mere mention of Kane has my heart pounding, but I’m positively seething from the highhandedness of it all.

  “It isn’t at all like that, darling. He didn’t come because he needed to prepare. He has something he wants to show you, so please do give him a chance.”

  After a brief standoff, I begrudgingly agree to go, but I draw the line at changing my clothes or doing my hair. I stay in my baggy Peter Tosh t-shirt and sweat-shorts, not even bothering to put on a bra. I throw a baseball cap over my messy hair, causing Adele to shake her head in disapproval as I reach the door.

  “What?” I snap, and she rolls her eyes. Sometimes it feels like she’s mothering me, and not in a good way.

  “Men are visual creatures, darling.”

  “They’re creatures alright,” Kayla says under her breath. At that, I can’t help but laugh.

  “Trust me, Adele, the only visual I want to bestow upon Kane Keo is me giving him the middle finger for dragging me back to Paia for some demonstration. If he doesn’t like how I look, well, he can go ahead and eat my sweat-shorts.”

  She sighs heavily, but I see a flicker of amusement on her face. “Come on then,” Adele says, shooing us both out the door.

  I sit in the backseat with my arms crossed the whole ride there. As the familiar streets of Paia Town come into view, my stomach starts to churn. It’s a strange mixture of longing and fear; it feels simultaneously wrong and right to be back, but even with the anxiety building in my chest, I can’t deny that it feels like home. It’s crazy how quickly this place became a part of me—and even if it’s the last time I’m here, I know that Paia played a big part in helping me heal. Adele pulls her Land Rover to a stop in front of Salty’s. It looks the same as always, with its hanging bamboo sign and vibrant green paint, but why wouldn’t it? It’s only been a month, even if it felt like years.