Isle Be Seeing You (Islands of Aloha Mystery Book 9) Page 6

  “Aloha, Luke,” I said as I came inside. It’s customary to announce your presence when you intrude on someone else’s workout. Training brings out a combat frame of mind and sneaking in can have unintended, and sometimes bruising, consequences.

  “Aloha, Pali. Good to see you. Don’t you usually work out earlier than this?”

  “Yeah, I slept in. I was hoping to catch sifu.”

  “You know about what went down at Chico’s Friday night?”

  “A little. What’d you hear?”

  “I wasn’t there but I heard things got ugly. Sifu’s wife went full-on Rambo.”

  “That’s not like her at all.”

  “Yeah. I’m pretty new here, but she seemed nice. Hard to imagine her tossing furniture around. Especially on sifu’s head.”

  We mentally chewed on that image for a beat before he went on. “Oh yeah, and read this. Sifu left a note.”

  He handed me a ruled piece of paper with a jaggedly torn left edge. Sifu Doug’s training journal had paper like that, but I’d never seen him rip a page out of it.

  I read the short note. Black belts—Won’t be around for a while. Pls cover classes. Call if necessary—DK

  “He made a schedule.” Luke handed me another page apparently ripped from the same source. Sifu Doug had listed his classes by day and time and had assigned each of the six black belts at PoP three or four sessions per week.

  I pointed to a morning class on Tuesday with my name next to it. “I can’t do this one. I’ve got a work thing on Tuesday.”

  “Yeah, I got some that won’t work for me neither.”

  “Can we switch?”

  “Don’t know. Sifu didn’t say.”

  One of the irrefutable aspects of martial arts is the sifu is king. You don’t ask why, you don’t argue, and you certainly don’t mess around with a direct request without seeking and receiving permission.

  I blew out a breath. “I’m the senior black belt, so I’ll talk to him.”

  Luke looked relieved.

  I handed back the schedule. “Make a note of the classes you need to switch and I’ll see what I can do. Tell the others to come in and do the same.”

  “Mahalo, Pali. I didn’t wanna…well, you know. I’m the lowest guy on the totem pole ‘round here.”

  I nodded. I can always tell mainland-raised people by the way they talk. Totem pole order doesn’t hold much meaning for us locals.

  I checked the clock. “Uh-oh. Gotta run. I’ve got clients this morning.”

  “You in real estate?”

  “No, I’m a wedding planner.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep. Got my own shop and everything.”

  “Hey, good for you. I might be talkin’ to you one of these days. My girlfriend’s got ideas, you know? Now that we got the kid and all, she’s thinking we need to make it legal.”

  I didn’t have the time or the inclination to offer up a lecture on the moral responsibilities of fatherhood, so I clapped him on the shoulder. “Give me a call anytime. I give a discount to kama’aina, and an even bigger discount to fellow black belts.”

  I went in the back entrance of my shop and hurriedly looked out the window before unlocking the front door. Kat and Alex were across the street, waiting for traffic to clear. I rushed to the back and began making a pot of coffee, hoping the cheerful aroma of freshly-brewed Kona coffee would put Alex in a receptive mood.

  “Aloha,” I sang out as they came through the door.

  Alex glowered. “What’s this about us getting married in a place of sin?”

  C’mon coffee, I silently begged.

  “Before you make a decision, let me show you some photos. I plugged my phone into my computer and began downloading pictures I’d taken at the winery.

  “This setting is now a winery, but it’s got a wonderful history. I proceeded to give them a thumbnail account of the story of Captain Makee and his famous upcountry cattle ranch. I mentioned King Kalakaua’s visits but left out the part about Christian missionaries banning hula and the king bringing it back.

  “It’s truly a magical place,” I said. “The grounds and views are better than anywhere else on Maui.”

  Okay, so I fudged a little there. The ‘Ulupalakua property is beautiful, and even special, but everyone’s who’s been to Maui could argue there are even more spectacular settings elsewhere on the island. Trouble was, Alex and Kat’s wedding date was two days away so we were pretty much down to ‘Ulupalakua or the courthouse, and the courthouse definitely wasn’t going to cut it.

  “Will there be drinking going on?” Alex demanded.

  “Not outside. Only in the tasting room. And even there, visitors are given only small amounts so they can decide if they want to buy some.”

  He crossed his arms. “Can we get them to close the drinking area while we’re there?”

  It took a great deal of self-control to keep the shrill out of my voice. “Alex, they’re allowing us to use their beautiful property for free, as a favor to a friend of mine. It’s not like we can make demands.”

  At that moment I made a mental note to get there early on Tuesday so I could stash the case of wine in my car before Alex and Kat showed up.

  Alex looked at Kat. “I don’t know. It feels sinful. I don’t want to start our life together like Adam and Eve, sinning in the eyes of the Lord.”

  “Darling, we won’t be sinning. No matter where we go we’ll encounter sin in one form or another. Pali says it’s gorgeous and our wedding photos will be stunning.”

  I hadn’t promised “stunning” photos but this wasn’t a time to quibble. Besides, her reasoning was sound.

  Alex stood. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t Kat and I drive up there right after church and check it out? If it turns out to be something we can live with, we’ll call.”

  I forced a sunny smile. “Great. Do me a favor? Call me either way. If this doesn’t work for you, well…” I let it hang, putting them on notice I had no Plan C. And, more to the point, I felt under no obligation to come up with one.

  ***

  I was putting final touches on a long email to a client who’d booked a September wedding when the front door creaked open. I glanced at the clock. It’d been less than two hours since Alex and Kat left. Had they managed to fit in a church service and a trip up to ‘Ulupalakua that fast?

  It was Steve.

  “Hey, Pali. I went to your house but you weren’t there so I thought I’d try here. I’m surprised to see you working on a Sunday.”

  “I’ve got that wedding on Tuesday. Have a seat.”

  He sat in the chair recently vacated by Alex. “Yeah, the one up at Maui Winery.”

  “Hopefully. They can’t decide.”

  “What’s to decide? It’s a gorgeous setting. I promised Bobby I’d shoot his kid’s baby pics for free if he’d let you do it there.”

  “Seriously? He hit me up to buy a case of wine.”

  “Give the guy credit. He knows how to negotiate. So, what’s the problem with your wedding couple?”

  “The guy’s full-on religious. He thinks drinking’s a sin.”

  “Okay. So it’ll be a dry wedding. It’s not like that’s something we haven’t encountered before.”

  “He thinks having his ceremony at the vineyard would be supporting the liquor industry.”

  Steve clamped his hands on his head. “Are you kidding? That’s nuts.”

  “Anyway, they’ve gone up there to check it out. I hope to hear from them any time now.”

  “What’ll you do if they say ‘no’?”

  “I’ll give them back their deposit and steer them to the courthouse.”

  He absentmindedly scratched behind his right ear. That was one of Steve’s “tells.” It signaled he was about to ask a favor.

  “Uh, I got something to run by you,” he said.

  “Shoot.”

  “Remember I said me and Allen were having issues?”

  I nodded.

  “Wel
l, it seems we’ve gone from bickering over little stuff to full-blown fighting over just about everything.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” I wanted to commiserate by launching into my own sob story about Finn but kept quiet to allow him to finish.

  “Yeah, well, here’s the deal. Can I couch surf at your place for a few nights? Tell Finn I promise to totally stay out of you guy’s way. I put a notice on the Gadda message board, but who knows how long it’ll be before something pops? Going back to Allen’s is not an option.”

  “You’re more than welcome. Finn’s off-island this week so it’ll just be me and you.”

  “Mahalo, Pali. I wouldn’t ask, but the guys I windsurf with have their hands full with kids and dogs and ‘ohana coming and going.”

  Most likely he hadn’t really talked to the guys he regularly surfs with at Ho’okipa, but I didn’t push it. Steve prefers to keep his lifestyle choice and fussy personal hygiene regime hush-hush except with close friends.

  “No worries at all. I enjoy your company.”

  “So, Finn’s on O’ahu?”

  “Last I heard.”

  My voice must’ve provided Steve with a “tell” I was unaware of, because he lifted his eyebrows.

  “Do I detect trouble in paradise?”

  “Have you eaten lunch? I’m starving. Let’s grab a fish sandwich.”

  On the short walk to the Pa’ia Fish Market I pondered how much I was willing to divulge about recent events in my marriage.

  After getting our food, we joined a table of college-aged kids who seemed much too absorbed in checking their phones and recalling the previous night’s pool party to listen to us. I chowed down my mahi-mahi burger, alternately swallowing and talking.

  “Finn’s wounded,” said Steve. “Guys like him don’t deal with bad news well. And when it’s manhood stuff … Well, you don’t need me to tell you how ugly that can get.”

  I pulled out my phone and handed it to him so he could listen to Finn’s voicemail. He held it to his ear, his face taut with concentration, and then wordlessly he handed it back to me.

  We sat in silence, the lunch hour din swirling around us like the roar of pounding surf.

  After half a minute he got up from the table. “Let’s talk later. I’ll make dinner.”

  I followed him out and turned to walk back up to my shop. After about a block, I remembered I’d promised Luke I’d talk to Sifu Doug about the black belts switching classes. Hopefully, he’d had time to talk to the others and see who needed to make changes. I crossed Baldwin and headed for the guan.

  Doug’s Jeep wasn’t out back, but I hadn’t expected it to be. When I looked up after pulling out my keys, I noticed a sign taped to the door.

  “No Classes Until Further Notice”

  It wasn’t like Doug to shut things down like that. He seldom cancelled classes, and he’d gone to all the trouble of making a schedule of how he wanted the classes handled. What was going on?

  Halfway back to my shop, my cell phone chimed. It was Kat.

  “We’re back.”

  “What did you think?” My hand trembled, either from still thinking about Doug or fretting over Alex and Kat’s decision—maybe both.

  “You’re right, the place is beautiful. But…”

  I hate that word. “But” is the bane of wedding planners everywhere. I didn’t say anything, waiting for her to finish.

  “Alex wants you to promise there won’t be a single picture that shows we were married at a winery. He says his mom will go ballistic.”

  I was tempted to quote that line from the Bible where a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife, but figured this was one of those times when biting back a snarky comment was probably in order. Besides, he could counter with the commandment about honoring your father and mother, and if we got into a Bible verse slap-down, I’d most certainly lose. No amount of Vacation Bible School could make up for every Sunday, rain or shine.

  “No problem. My photographer’s the best. He can edit or crop shots if necessary.”

  I pressed on. “So, let’s say a four o’clock ceremony? Will that work for you? The manager said there will be fewer visitors then.”

  She must’ve put her phone to her chest and consulted Alex, because I heard a series of thumping and scratching sounds before she came back on.

  “Yeah, that’ll work.”

  “Great. If you have any questions, call me. Otherwise, I’ll meet you at the …” I balked at calling it a winery, so instead said, “…at the ‘Ulupalakua location at four on Tuesday.”

  Steve made spaghetti with chicken Italian sausage that night, one of my favorite comfort foods. He’d stopped by the Pa’ia Bakery and emptied his wallet for a loaf of their chewy olive bread. I set the table and he pulled a beautiful tossed salad of arugula and mango out of the refrigerator. Aside from the carb overload it was a perfect meal.

  As I forked spaghetti into my mouth, I kept saying, “I really shouldn’t be eating so much of this.”

  “Why not? Worried about losing your girlish figure? From what I can see you look like you’ve lost five or six pounds since I moved out.”

  “You should talk. I’ve never seen you so skinny. Did Allen keep the refrigerator padlocked or something? I wouldn’t be surprised. He looks like the type.”

  We went on like that, dishing compliments to each other while throwing down trash talk about our respective significant others. After dinner, we veered much too close to boo-hoo land when we began reminiscing about how happy we’d been earlier that year when I’d hastily married Finn and Steve had set up housekeeping in Allen’s swanky Kapalua townhouse.

  We went out on the front porch and watched the evening sky shift from cerulean to deep violet as we sat in silence on the rickety wicker chairs. After a few minutes we both said, “I miss him,” at the same time.

  Steve went upstairs to sleep on the sofa bed in the guest room since his old room had been turned into an office for Finn.

  I got into bed but tossed and turned, mentally replaying every recent conversation I’d had with my husband. How had our relationship blown apart so fast? “For better or for worse, in sickness and in health?” Didn’t our vows mean anything to him?

  As I pondered the mystery of my easy come, easy go marriage, it hit me. What about Doug’s marriage? He and Lani had been tight for more than fifteen years. And now she’s hurling chairs at him?

  Being in a relationship is like building an elaborate sand castle. It’s a ton of work easily swept away by a rogue wave. For Finn and me, it seems our first unexpected wave—finding out we couldn’t have kids—was about to do in our sand castle before we even got the turrets up. But what had been Sifu Doug and Lani’s wave? After a decade and a half, wouldn’t it take more than one strong surge to pull down all they’d built?

  I went to sleep determined to track down Doug and get some answers.

  CHAPTER 9

  I was in the shower when he called. If he’d dialed the landline I’m sure Steve would’ve picked it up. But he didn’t. Finn called my cell.

  At least he left a message. In a weary voice, he said, “Hey. Sorry you’re not answering my calls, but this may be the last one. To say I’m in a safe place would require you to believe in the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus and most of what comes out of Vladamir Putin’s mouth.”

  He paused. When he resumed, his tone sounded even more fatigued. “But believe this. I’m sorry, Pali. For everything. I would’ve come clean about my medical issues before, but I forgot all about those college experiments. Besides, they told us it was safe.” He barked a throaty laugh. “Maybe one of these days I’ll stop being so gullible. Anyway, again, I’m sorry. Neither of us has time for false starts. Bye.”

  I held the phone up to my ear for what seemed like minutes but was probably just a few seconds, hoping he’d tack on an “I Love you,” or “Miss you” postscript. But there was only static.

  I called to Steve from the bottom of the stairs, but got no answ
er. In the kitchen I found a note from him saying he’d be back in a little while and asking me to wait.

  At eight-twenty he banged through the back door carrying a white bakery bag in one hand and his car keys in the other. He had a glazed donut clamped between his teeth. He put the bag on the counter and took the donut out of his mouth.

  “I brought us consolation calories.”

  I unfolded the bag and the aroma of warm, sugary dough wafted into my nostrils.

  I shook my head. “You know how bad these things are for you?”

  “Not if you’re grieving,” he said. “Look, there’s the regular food pyramid and then there’s the break-up pyramid. Regular pyramid is vegetables, grains, milk, that kind of stuff. Break up pyramid’s got Ben & Jerry’s, fresh-baked donuts, and all-you-can-eat fish and chips night at Cisco’s.”

  I bit into the soft, sweet confection while Steve went on. “Oh yeah, and speaking of Cisco’s, sit down because I heard something bad at the donut shop in Pukalani.”

  “I already know about Doug and Lani having a fight there last Friday.”

  He looked crestfallen. Steve does not like to be the bearer of old news.

  “Okay, but there’s more.”

  I sat down and finished the donut in four bites.

  He reached in the bag and handed me another. “Well, seems things didn’t improve over the weekend.”

  “What’d you hear?”

  “Doug’s neighbor was ahead of me in line and I heard her tell the clerk there were two cop cars at the Kanekoa’s house this morning.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. She was pretty sure Lani called them because Doug’s car wasn’t in the driveway where he leaves it.”

  “What about the kids?”

  “She thinks they’re at Lani’s sister’s. Seems Doug tried to pawn the kids off at another neighbor’s but she had ‘ohana visiting from the mainland.”

  “Who was the woman you were eavesdropping on?”