05-O'ahu Lonesome Tonight? Read online

  “But you want me to fly in an airplane.”

  “Flying is extremely safe. Really. But if you don’t want to do it, then try something else. Like sailing.”

  It went on like that for longer than I’d hoped, but in the end, Farrah agreed to let me take her down to Lahaina Harbor to meet Ono and check out his catamaran.

  ***

  The next day we started for Lahaina right after the noon rush at the store. Farrah left the store in Beatrice’s capable hands. But although Bea’s seventy-year-old hands are capable, her hearing is not-so-much.

  “We’ll be back around four,” I told Bea while I waited for Farrah to come downstairs.

  “Huh? Something on the floor? I don’t see nothing,” she said, scrutinizing the worn planks of the plantation-era flooring.

  “Not the floor,” I said. “Four. Like four o’clock.” I pointed to the Felix the Cat clock on the wall. Bea and I both looked over at the clock. Its tail wagged back and forth marking the seconds.

  “Yeah,” I said waving my hand to get her attention. I held up four fingers. “Four. We’ll be back by four.”

  Bea mimicked my four-fingered wave. “Okay, dear. Fine by me to use the back door.”

  ***

  “I love your new car,” said Farrah as I whipped my new Mini Cooper through the swerves of Highway 30 on our way to Lahaina. “But why don’t you put the top down?”

  “It’s too windy. When we get closer to town I’ll put it down.” I love the open convertible at speeds under fifty. But any faster than that makes me feel like a rotisserie chicken in a convection oven.

  We pulled into the Lahaina Harbor area and, wonder of wonders, I immediately found a parking spot.

  Farrah turned to me. “So, are you cool with Ono? I mean, if he’s gonna go all harsh on you, I don’t think I want to—”

  “Don’t worry. He’s too much of a gentleman for trash talk. And besides, we’re good. Sometimes it’s better to be long-time friends than short-time lovers. That’s how it is with us.”

  “So you guys never did, uh, you know?”

  “No, never.”

  “Whew. That’s cool. I was worried. Nothing more downer than a dude with unrequired love.”

  “I think the word is ‘unrequited’.”

  “Yeah, whatever. So, you think I’ll be chill riding on his boat?”

  “I’m not going to lie to you, Farrah. It’s a full day’s sail to O’ahu, and it can get kind of bumpy. But Ono’s an excellent captain.”

  “Are you disappointed in me?”

  “Of course not. Why would you even ask that?”

  “Because compared to you I’m a total wuss. I mean, you’re like Wonder Woman brave. You do your kung fu and you worked for Homeland Security and all that. What do I do? I run a gnarly grocery store. You don’t need to be Brave Heart to card pimply dudes for beer.”

  I took her hand. “Look, you’re the most courageous woman I know. I can’t count the number of times you’ve stuck up for me and gotten knocked around for it. You’re a lot of things, Farrah, but ‘wuss’ isn’t one of them. Now let’s go see a man about a boat.”

  We walked to the far end of the boat slips where Ono’s catamaran, the Maui Happy Returns, was tied up. I had mixed feelings about being back there. I’d loved it when Ono had taken me out on my first sail out of there, but I’d also had a pretty close call right there on that very same dock.

  When we got up alongside the gleaming white hull Ono was standing at attention on the gangway.

  “Hey, stranger,” he said giving me a big hug as I came aboard. He reached to take Farrah’s hand. “And you must be my new crew member. Welcome aboard.”

  Farrah shot me a look and froze.

  “Farrah’s a little nervous about this,” I said. “She’s worried you’ll want her to do stuff she doesn’t know how to do.”

  “Oh, I was just kidding about you being crew,” he said. “I have to report you as a member of the crew or it messes with my insurance. I take tourists out so my liability’s pretty steep. They keep tabs on me.”

  Farrah shot him a tentative smile and climbed aboard.

  “Wow, this boat’s so groovy,” she said. “Beautiful wood.” She trailed a hand across the highly-polished teak hand rails.

  “It is. Pali must’ve already told you it’s not mine. That’s why I’ve got to go to O’ahu next weekend. The owner wants me to haul some people out on a day sail.”

  “Mahalo for offering to take me. I’ve got to warn you, though. I don’t get out much. I’ve never been on a boat ride that lasted more than an hour. And that was a long time ago.”

  “That’s cool. The ride to O’ahu can get a little rough, but I’ll have you stay down here in the salon if it gets really rockin’. It’s the most stable place on the vessel. If you look out the windows you shouldn’t get seasick.”

  At the mention of the word, seasick, I saw a flash of worry in Farrah’s eyes.

  “What if I get sick anyway?” she said.

  “No worries,” said Ono. “We’ve all fed the fish one time or another.”

  Farrah asked if she could explore the rest of the boat and Ono nodded. “Let me know if you have any questions.” She started down the ladder to go below deck. Ono turned to me. “Wow, you didn’t tell me your friend was so beautiful. She’s got gorgeous skin.”

  I doubted it was her skin he was really taken with. Farrah’s figure boasted some eye-popping elements that even an eighty-dollar bra could barely keep in check.

  “Yeah, she’s very pretty. She’s also my best friend.” I said it to put him on notice that he better not try anything. It seemed he took it wrong.

  “You got a little green monkey whispering in your ear, Pali? I never figured you for jealous.”

  “I’m not. I just want you to remember she’s—”

  Farrah popped up from surveying below decks. “You’ve got a really big bed down there! Way cool. Do you live on this boat?”

  “I do,” Ono said. “I haven’t been a land-based life form for more than a year now.”

  “Wow. That’s bitchin’. I don’t know if Pali told you, but I live where I work too. We’re like, the same.”

  And then it dawned on me. They were.

  CHAPTER 4

  I was leaving for Honolulu in the morning but I still had to get through Friday’s wedding. I arrived at the wedding site three hours early and everything was progressing well. One-by-one the vendors showed up on time and everyone seemed to have everything they needed. The bride and groom had opted to have their formal photos taken the day before to avoid last-minute jitters. Now the ceremony was about to begin and we’d encountered our first glitch: we had no best man. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Bachelor parties have a way of incapacitating the most trustworthy of men, even grooms, but today the groom was present and accounted for. It was the guy who’d agreed to stand up for the groom, to hold the ring and sign the marriage certificate, who was missing.

  “Would you like to choose one of your groomsmen to stand in as best man?” I said to the groom, Jake. Jake was a good-looking kid who normally sported a cocky grin, but he wasn’t smiling now. We were in a back room of the community hall. In the main room, four dozen guests were already seated. The low hum of whispers and rustling alerted me that it was pretty certain everyone knew something was amiss.

  “No. Andy will be here. He wouldn’t do this to me, or to Rebecca.”

  We waited ten more minutes and then I went to talk to the bride. She’d shooed her bridesmaids out of the “bride’s room” and had asked them to wait outside in the vestibule.

  “What do you want to do?” I said. “After all, this is your wedding. Jake wants to stall but I always tell brides they have the final say. This may be your last opportunity to get your own way on things.” I gave her a smile but she didn’t return it.

  I went on. “What I’m trying to say is, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

  The bride was stunning in
a strapless ivory taffeta gown. She’d pulled her glossy auburn hair into an ‘up do,’ and even with minimal make-up she looked like a Walt Disney princess. Steve had come home from taking the formal photos and announced that of all the couples he’d met since he’d been working with me, Rebecca was the only bride who’d caused him to pause and take notice. He’d even offered to take twice as many photos for the same price if the couple would allow him to use some of them on his website.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she said. She stared out the window as if hoping she could conjure up the missing best man by sheer will.

  “We can’t wait much longer,” I said in my ‘take charge’ voice. “It’s not fair to your guests. This place has ceiling fans, but no A/C. It’s starting to get pretty sticky out there.”

  “I know.” Her shoulders sagged. Then she did the unthinkable: she plopped down on the stiff velvet sofa next to the window.

  “Rebecca!” I barked her name a little louder than necessary. But she was wearing taffeta, and everyone knows unwrinkled taffeta and sitting are mutually exclusive.

  “You know, I guess I do know,” she said as she stood up. She fluffed out her skirt. “I’m sorry to do this to you, but I need to go.”

  At first I thought she meant she had to go to the bathroom. Then I realized she didn’t.

  “You’re leaving?” I said.

  “Yeah, sorry, but I can’t do this. I know why Andy isn’t here.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re sorry. What about Jake?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m sorry about him too.”

  “Do you want me to go get him so you two can talk?”

  “No. I don’t know what I’d say. Just tell him I’m really sorry but this is what’s best for everybody.”

  “Is this about Andy?” I said. It was none of my business, but hey, it was about my business. How had I not picked up on her hesitancy before?

  “I’d rather not say,” she said. Which, of course, said everything.

  Rebecca gathered up her things and bustled out so quickly I didn’t have time to round up the bridesmaids to stage an intervention. I was left with an ugly to-do list and no clue where to begin.

  ***

  When I headed home late that afternoon I was wiped out. I’d had jiltings before, but thankfully I haven’t become so jaded I can simply shrug them off. They’re painful and humiliating. The guests had made their way out of the community center as though they’d just attended a funeral. Hardly anyone spoke and those who did used hushed voices. There was a lot of head shaking and quick hugs in the parking lot.

  I’d stayed behind to console the groom and the bride’s parents. The groom’s parents had huffed out right behind the final guests. Maybe they figured their son had dodged a bullet but they were wise enough to know this wasn’t the time to point it out to him.

  The groom was nearly inconsolable. He kept saying things like, “Me and Andy have been friends since first grade,” and “Rebecca told me she didn’t hardly like Andy.” Jake didn’t look like he was crying; it was more like he was leaking. He kept mopping his wet face with the sleeve of his coat and I hoped the fabric wouldn’t pucker. I had no desire to explain the whole sad situation to the folks at the tuxedo rental place.

  The bride’s parents were furious. They kept asking how much, given the circumstances, they would owe and I kept dodging the question. Of course they owed all of it. There was a seldom read, but quite legal, clause in my contract which stated that charges would ensue for all vendor services unless the bride or groom fell sick or were injured in such a manner that the wedding could not proceed as planned. And even if that happened their only remedy would be to re-schedule.

  I felt bad for them, though. The mother was mortified and the father was angry. They argued back and forth, each one blaming the other for their daughter’s shortcomings. Phrases such as “spoiled brat,” “ungrateful bitch” and “she’s just like you” were bandied about with little restraint.

  I was glad this was my last wedding for a few weeks. I needed a break from drama.

  I got home and collapsed at the kitchen table. Luckily for me, my wise and noble roommate didn’t comment on the debacle; nor did he ask me if he’d be getting paid for the zillion photos he’d taken the day before when the would-be bride and soon-to-be groom were still making goo-goo eyes at each other.

  “I made you curried vegetables and brown rice,” he said. “Your favorite.”

  “There’s a special corner in heaven for you,” I said.

  “Yeah, and a special corner of you-know-where for that gorgeous girl who trashed that poor loser in front of all his family and friends.”

  “She did what she had to do,” I said. “I’m not happy with how she did it, but I respect that she didn’t get up there and lie through her teeth while she took her vows.”

  “I disagree,” he said. “I think it would’ve shown a lot more class to go through with it and then catch a plane to Reno and quietly undo it all.”

  “Well, at least it seems Farrah’s happy,” I said. “She and Ono left this morning.”

  “You’d think a fourteen-hour boat ride would be tougher than a half-hour flight,” he said.

  “I know. I’ve done that trip and it’s not for the faint-hearted.”

  “I hope she doesn’t freak out and want to turn back. I’m looking forward to crashing with her at the Royal Hawaiian.”

  “Yeah, I hope she’ll be okay,” I said. “So when’s your appointment with Go Hawaii?”

  “Monday morning. That gives me the entire weekend to see what I can pick up in Waikiki.” He rubbed his hands together and grinned.

  “Well, whatever you ‘pick up’, make sure it’s not something that requires penicillin to fix.”

  “Oh, listen to you, Miss Mother Superior Mary Margaret. You know I’m careful. I’ve never gotten more than a cold from a date. And that cold was way worth it.” He sighed and looked off as if lost in the reverie of a very ‘worth it’ evening.

  Time to change the subject. “I need to talk to Hatch before I leave tomorrow,” I said. “He said he’s requesting extra shifts so we can have time together when I get back. I hope he gets someone to trade with him.”

  “Oh, I’m glad you reminded me. Hatch left a voice mail while we were at the non-wedding. There’s a note by the phone.”

  “Why do you always do this?”

  “Do what?” he said.

  “Forget to give me my messages.”

  “I don’t forget. I write them down. Now you want me to write them down and tell you? What am I, your butler?” he said.

  “I like the ring of that, my butler. From now on—”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, missy. If I score this gig with Go Hawaii I’ll be making enough coin to hire my own butler.”

  ***

  I called Hatch and he was as giddy as a kid catching his first wave. “You aren’t gonna believe this,” he said. He stopped for a dramatic pause. “I got called out as a Hot Head.”

  I knew Hatch had a temper, but I never thought he’d be pleased about being branded a ‘hot head’.

  “Who called you a ‘hot head’?”

  “The Hot Heads are an elite wildland firefighting unit. My chief put in a good word and I got picked to go to training in Montana. I leave on Sunday.”

  “That’s great. So we’ll both be gone at the same time.”

  “Yeah, except my training lasts three weeks. And if something pops up while I’m over there I may get sent out to fight a fire.”

  “Huh. Wildland firefighting. Why would they choose to train a guy from Hawaii to fight forest fires? It’s not like we have redwoods over here.”

  “Because wildland fires aren’t just in forests. Some of the worst ones are fast-spreading brush fires. And we’ve got tons of those. Remember when that fire shut down the Pali Highway for two days? It was a freakin’ mess. Nobody from the West Side could get to the airport.”

  “Well, good for you. I’ll miss you but
I’m glad you get to do something you love.”

  “Babe, if I was doing something I love, it would be you.”

  I let him have the last word on that and promised I’d call when I landed in Honolulu the next morning.

  ***

  I tried to pack for all possibilities. I didn’t know if Jeff wanted to spend time sightseeing, going to the beach, hanging out in bars and clubs, or what. It had been his idea to meet in Honolulu for his vacation week but neither one of us had talked about what we wanted to do once we got there. I think he expected me to play hostess since I still live in Hawaii, but it’d been nearly ten years since I’d lived in the city. And, after a decade, both Honolulu and I had changed so much we were back to being strangers.

  I got to bed early but I didn’t sleep well. I often have trouble sleeping before a trip. That’s one of the reasons my career as a federal air marshal was so short-lived. I rarely slept well the night before a flight. So, I’d be already tired when I boarded my mind-numbing thirteen hour flight to Taipei. An hour after take-off I’d be pinching my arm trying to stay awake. Two hours later I’d be deep in the zzz’s. Since the whole reason for having an armed guard on an airplane is to keep an eye on things, it kind of defeated the purpose if my eyes were closed. I’d been embarrassed and humbled when I got fired for dereliction of duty, but I didn’t beg for another chance. There was no point. For me, the hum of jet engines and the cushy leather seats in first class—they usually seated us in first class to be closer to the cockpit—just triggered my brain to go nighty-night.

  But it wasn’t just the next day’s flight that was keeping me awake. I was excited to see my brother again. And, if possible, I might be meeting some new members of my family, or ohana. Just recently I’d learned I had a slew of brothers and sisters from my father’s side. I wasn’t sure how I felt about seeing them after all these years, but I’d decided it didn’t matter. I’d already lived without them for thirty-five years. If we weren’t a ‘good fit’—that’s how the feds described my air marshal career, I wasn’t a ‘good fit’—then more than likely this meeting would be a one-time thing. Whatever the outcome with my new siblings, I was looking forward to catching up with the brother I’d been raised with. And I was also loving the idea of an entire week with nary a whiny diva bride, clueless groom or Devil-Wears-Prada mother-of-the-bride in sight.