Not Always Happenstance (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 13

  She spun around. “Did you see that, Pearl?”

  Pearl nodded. “In China, the butterfly is a symbol of love.”

  Easton had to cough to cover up his laughter. He wondered if Pearl would tell Lani about the cactus love-flower.

  “Really?” Lani asked, her voice a bit too high-pitched to be genuine. “That’s interesting.” Then she sidled past Easton and headed for the house. “I should see if Puna needs some help.”

  Easton watched her go, wondering about rare butterflies and cactus flowers and afternoon rain. But mostly he wondered what had gone wrong since yesterday.

  “Pearl,” he said slowly. “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand women.”

  “How dull life would be if you did.”

  A quick rap on the front door was the only warning Ahe gave before he burst inside the house and trotted into the great room. Lani wasn’t surprised because it was a normal thing for him to do. As soon as he’d considered them family, he had made himself right at home.

  Lani clicked mute on the show she and Puna were watching and eyed him expectantly.

  “It hasn’t rained for two days, and it’s a full moon tonight.” Ahe was a little out of breath, and his dark eyes glittered with excitement.

  A full moon and no rain could only mean one thing. Ahe wanted to go to Kapu Aina. Lani glanced at the TV, where a documentary on rainforests continued in silence. It was the only thing on TV that was remotely interesting.

  “You really have to think about this one?” Puna held her hand out for the remote, turned off the TV then waved dismissively at her granddaughter. “Go. Live,” she said.

  Lani laughed, but didn’t need any more coaxing than that. She’d developed a great love for Kapu Aina the first time Ahe had invited her along. During the day, it was beautiful and peaceful—the perfect escape—but under the light of the full moon, it became magical.

  “I’ll meet you out front,” she told Ahe on her way to her room.

  Lani quickly changed into a swimsuit, quick-dry shorts, and a tank, then found Ahe in the hallway, waiting impatiently. He grabbed her arm and pulled her outside, where a group of people were already piled in the back of his pickup. From the corner of her eye, Lani caught sight of Easton walking down from the bungalow, wearing board shorts, a t-shirt, and Tevas.

  She felt a twinge of anxiety. Was he planning to finagle an invite? No. She wouldn’t let him. Not to Kapu Aina. For once, she was grateful for Ahe’s animosity toward Easton. He would make sure—

  “I invited the haole,” said Ahe in her ear, slinging his arm around her back to give her a side hug. “See? Even I can be nice sometimes.”

  Wait. Ahe had already invited him? Lani could have kicked herself for ever going to bat for Easton. Ahe was probably expecting a mahalo, a hug, or at the very least, a smile, but Lani couldn’t do any of those things. If Easton came with them, his memory would be imprinted on one of her favorite spots on the island, and she’d never be able to escape there without thinking of him. It was selfish, but Lani wanted Kapu Aina to stay hers and Ahe’s and the rest of her local friends.

  Of all the ways Ahe could have extended an olive branch, why Kapu Aina?

  Someone called out to Ahe, saving Lani from answering, and she crawled into the back of the pickup with everyone else. People scooted aside, leaving just enough room for her and Easton to sit hip-to-hip and shoulder-to-shoulder. She tensed, wanting to crawl right back out and make up some excuse why she couldn’t go anymore. But Ahe would never hear of it—not now that she’d already agreed.

  Lani shouldn’t have come. She should have continued watching the documentary with Puna and let the moonlight swim happen without her.

  “You look happy to see me,” Easton said, just loud enough for her to hear.

  Lani ignored the comment and tried to do the same to him. But they were sitting too close, and her body was too aware.

  Maybe she could talk him out of coming.

  “This hike isn’t for the faint-hearted,” she said. “You sure you want to come?”

  “I’ll do my best not to faint.”

  Just like he’d do his best not to take a hint. “How do you feel about cliff jumping?” she tried again, hoping he had a paralyzing fear of heights.

  “Love it.” He craned his head to the side to get a better look at her. “I take it you’re a fan as well?”

  She refused to look at him. “You sound surprised.”

  “Maybe I am,” he said. “Though after watching the way you surf, I probably shouldn’t be. You seem to be very at-one with the water.”

  She couldn’t resist a quick peek in his direction. He wore no hat, and his hair glistened as though he’d just gotten out of the shower. As Ahe’s truck bumped its way onto Hāna Highway, Lani’s shoulder rammed into Easton’s. Her hopes plummeted. They were officially off, and Lani’s fate was sealed. Easton would be coming with them whether she wanted him to or not.

  All around them others laughed and joked and enjoyed.

  Lani mourned.

  “What does Kapu Aina mean?” Easton asked, pulling her from self-pitying thoughts.

  “Forbidden land.”

  “Is it on privately owned land or something?”

  “No. It’s just. . . untouched.” She adjusted to a more comfortable position and leaned her head back. “Ahe’s grandfather loved to explore the island. He came to know it so well that he could go off for days without food or water or the fear of getting lost—at least that’s how Ahe tells it. His family tends to embellish all stories, so I never know what to believe, but it sounds cool.”

  “I take it Ahe’s grandfather discovered Kapu Aina? Did I say that right?”

  “Yes and yes.”

  “And they’ve kept it a secret ever since?”

  “They share it with friends and family, and even a few outsiders like me.”

  He nudged her shoulder with his. “What are you talking about? You’re Ahe’s sistah.”

  She swallowed and nodded, knowing Hāna wouldn’t be Hāna without this group of friends. “They’re good people.”

  Easton pulled his knees closer to his chest and glanced up at the sky. “Is there a reason we’re going so late? We won’t have light for much longer.”

  “We’ll have enough to hike there—or, at least mostly there, and the full moon will give us enough to find our way back. And when the light hits the water just right, you’ll understand.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  Twenty minutes later, Ahe turned onto a bumpy, windy, dirt road and didn’t slow his speed at all. They jerked, they bounced, they weaved, and Easton leaned forward with a groan, putting his head between his knees. “You didn’t warn me about this part,” he muttered.

  “You get motion sickness?” she asked.

  “Only when riding backwards on windy, bumpy roads.”

  She laughed. “I’m surprised. Though after watching the way you surf, I probably shouldn’t be.”

  “I’m glad you find my pain and amateur surfing skills so entertaining,” came his muffled response. “We almost there?”

  “Not even close.”

  He groaned, she laughed, and Ahe slammed on the breaks, skidding to a stop. Several people cursed Ahe’s name, including Easton, and everyone began leaping out of the truck.

  Easton lifted his head, revealing a pale, almost green face. “I thought we weren’t close.”

  “We’re not,” said Lani, swinging her legs over the side. “We still have about four miles to hike.” She hopped down and turned around, offering him a smile. “Coming?”

  He didn’t need to be told twice. In a fluid movement, he jumped over the side and landed next to her, pointing his finger at her. “You’re evil.”

  “And you’re gullible.”

  He rolled his eyes and looked around. “Where are we?”

  “About to enter the forbidden lands, remember?” She began following the fifteen others who were already on their way up the mountain. Easton trailed behind
.

  “Ho, Lani!” Ahe called. “Where are you?”

  “Coming.” She quickened her steps to catch up to him, grateful for an excuse to put some distance between her and Easton. Maybe if she stuck with Ahe the rest of the night, Easton’s imprint wouldn’t be as deep.

  Ahe slapped Pika’s bare chest with the back of his hand then said to Lani. “Tell this lolo that we saw a wild boar right here this same time last year.”

  “He’s lying,” said Lani without hesitation.

  Ahe’s eyes bulged and he laughed. “You fo real, Lani? You saw it too! Where’s Paavo? He’ll tell you.”

  Ahe was right. Lani had seen the boar. But she also happened to know that Pika’s grandmother had been bitten by a wild boar and later died from some infection because of it. Or, at least that was the story going around. Regardless, she didn’t want to say anything that might make Pika break into a sweat. He was still young and trying his hardest to prove his manliness.

  But Ahe wouldn’t care about any of that, so Lani was quick to redirect the conversation. “What I remember is seeing you trip over a root then lose your shoe in a mud pit.”

  Ahe stopped looking for his friend as she knew he would. Despite his large, muscular body, he was as easily distracted as a child. He threw back his head and laughed at the memory. “Now you see why we wait for a full moon and no rain. I need my shoes.”

  Lani laughed. “You need your shoes for standing around? I thought we were planning to hike tonight.”

  “Patience, Lani. Patience.” But he turned anyway, and the group surged forward. As they hiked, they stepped over large roots and ducked under low branches, careful to not leave too much of a trail. Ahe continued down memory lane like always, recounting story after story about Kapu Aina. Lani couldn’t remember having a conversation with Ahe about ideas or thoughts or even goals for the future. He preferred to live in the moment and relive past moments. And so she listened while he talked, making a comment here or a correction there to show she was paying attention.

  Every so often, Lani would glance back, but too many people blocked her view of Easton. His laugh and voice occasionally caught up to her, so she knew he’d found someone to chat with. It impressed her how easily he could fit in anywhere. A dry comment here, a question there, and everyone, with the exception of Ahe, seemed to like him. She wondered who had made him laugh and tried not to be bothered that it wasn’t her.

  After about thirty minutes, they met up with the river and the first and smallest of three waterfall jumps. It could easily be skirted by climbing down a dense tree on the opposite side, but no one climbed down. Anyone who couldn’t take this jump should turn back now. They only got taller from here.

  A break in the canopy of trees overhead allowed the fading sunlight to highlight the water to the left of the deepest spot in the pool below. Ahe jumped first, followed by Pika and some of the others. Lani purposefully stayed back, allowing those between her and Easton to go ahead.

  “How tall is this one?” Easton asked when he caught up.

  Lani shrugged. “Tall enough to know you’re falling before you hit.”

  They were standing to the left of the river, and he took a step forward, peeking over the edge. “My guess is thirty feet,” he said, gesturing for her to go ahead. “Ladies first? So I can see the safe place to land.”

  Lani made sure the path was clear before she jumped. She felt a moment’s rush of adrenalin before her body landed in the frigid waters. That first dip always zinged her, but it was a warm evening, and her body would soon adjust. She swam out of the way and turned around in time to see Easton tuck his knees to his chest before he hit the water. His splash re-soaked several people, making them curse Easton’s name, and Ahe, already out of the river, laughed.

  “You alright sometimes, haole,” shouted Ahe. “Good for a laugh anyway.”

  “Glad I’m good for something,” he muttered to Lani as he swam past to the side of the river. Once he’d lifted his body out, he extended a hand to her.

  She hesitated only a moment before accepting his help. He easily pulled her out of the water and grinned. “Haven’t fainted yet.”

  “That jump was nothing compared to the others,” said Lani, pulling her hand free. But instead of catching up to Ahe like she should do, she stayed with Easton. She needed a break from all the “remember whens” and knew that Easton would either leave her to her thoughts or start an actual discussion.

  But as they walked, it was Lani who started it. “The other night I heard you talking to… Sadie, is it?” At his lifted eyebrow, she rushed on to add, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was planning to hand-deliver the bread. But your window was open and your phone rang and… I eavesdropped.”

  He chuckled and held a large and leafy branch out of her way. “Little Sade—she has me wrapped around her adorable, five-year-old finger. Apparently her mom, my sister Caroline, taught her how to call me. So when she woke up in the middle of the night, she snuck Caro’s phone and put her new skills to the test. I’ve been getting about a call a day ever since. I haven’t told my sister yet because I don’t want them to stop.”

  Lani smiled a little. What would it be like to have a niece or nephew who knew and liked her well enough to want to call every day? Lani wouldn’t know. She had one of each but had only seen pictures of them on Facebook or Instagram. One lived in Ohio, the other in Tennessee. They probably didn’t even know her name.

  “You said you’d see her soon. I take it that means you’re headed home after this trip?”

  He nodded. “I go home after all my trips. At least for a few weeks. It’s how I recuperate.”

  The conversation was drilling little holes in Lani’s heart. He sounded so unaffected, as though the thought of leaving didn’t bother him at all. She wasn’t sure why she’d brought it up. Perhaps because a small part of her—the one that still believed in fairy tales and happily ever afters—hoped that he wouldn’t sound unaffected. That maybe, just maybe, his feelings had sunk to the bottom of the deep end like hers.

  “Your book will be finished by then?” she asked.

  Easton moved another branch out of her way, and she ducked under his arm. When he didn’t say anything, she wondered if he’d ignored the question completely or was thinking of a way to change the subject like he always did.

  When he finally spoke, he surprised her. “I’m not writing a book, Lani.”

  It was honest—more honest than he’d ever been about the career aspect of his life. It felt big, like he was about to trust her with something he didn’t trust with just anyone. Her heart thumped, and Lani turned around, slowing her steps.

  “What are you writing?”

  “Articles.”

  “For what?”

  He shrugged, looking off to the side. “Magazines. My blog.”

  “What sort of articles?”

  “Basically, they’re short stories about my experiences around the world.”

  Walking slowly backwards, Lani’s foot caught on a root. She started to fall, but Easton grabbed her hand, keeping her upright. When she regained her footing, she stood only a few breaths away.

  He was so close. She could see the light scruff on his face, the flecks of dark brown in his eyes. But the closeness she felt with him now had nothing to do with proximity. “Why did it take you this long to tell me that? I think it’s cool. I had no idea magazines paid so well for articles.”

  He looked away and let go of her arm. “We’re falling behind.”

  And just like that the connection severed. Lani’s hope extinguished like a tiki torch with no oil. He’d given her a glimpse, but no more. She turned around and continued walking, not ready to give up. “Are you a trust fund kid or something?”

  He laughed. “If I were, do you think I’d be sleeping on a hard bed in a gecko-infested shack rather than staying at the Travaasa?”

  “Are there a lot of geckos in your room?”

  “Yes,” he said, chuckling again.


  “I’m so sorry. I will—”

  “Do what? Call the exterminator and kill the peaceful wall-climbers? Don’t you dare. They’re fun to watch and honestly don’t bother me.”

  There he was again, the easy Easton. The kind Easton. The Easton that had found his way into Lani’s heart and would rip it to shreds in just over five weeks. Like a bad omen, Lani could see it coming and felt powerless to stop it. Every word, every touch, every glance, and she fell a little bit farther. Her grandmother always spoke of soaring, she just never mentioned the crash landing that could easily follow.

  “Ever tried to catch one?” she asked. “They’re pretty quick.”

  “Nope. Haven’t really had the desire. But you never know when a moment of insanity might strike, so I won’t say I never will.”

  “I caught one once,” said Lani. “A few years ago, some guests brought their little girl to stay. She was a toddler—probably about three or four—and loved to drag her mom outside to find the “yizzuds,” as she called them. After the first day, I could tell her mom was growing tired of the gecko hunts, so I took over a few times. The second time, we found one lounging in the sun, and I was able to grab it before it could get away. We put it in an old fish aquarium with some plants and leaves and fed it live crickets.” Lani smiled at the memory. “Bella never cared about hunting for them again after that, and I made a new best friend.”

  “And the parents loved you for it.”

  Her smile turned rueful. “At least until Bella declared she wanted to take her ‘yizzud’ home with her. When her parents said no, that didn’t go over very well.”

  Easton chuckled. “I imagine there was a lot of weeping and wailing.”

  “It was pretty sad,” Lani said. “I had to tell her that the lizard’s mommy and daddy wanted their baby back and promise that we’d catch another one the next time she came.”

  “Have they ever come back?”

  “No. At least not to our place.”

  “Do you have any regular guests?” he asked.

  “A few. They’ve fallen in love with Hāna and try to return about once a year. Those are the ones who become good friends, and we stay in touch with most of them.” As they passed a shrub, Lani pulled off a leaf and rolled it into a tight cylinder. Would Easton become a reoccurring guest? No. He wrote about his experiences traveling, so of course he couldn’t repeat his trips. The very nature of his career made him a been-there-done-that-off-to-something-new kind of traveler.