problem. I think you’re afraid to take risks, and you’re trying to stay on familiar ground.”
The words tolled inside Erika like the bell of truth. Afraid to take risks…Erika had her reaction, which was emotional. Visceral. It was hard to get up after a fall. Adele had watched; she should know.
“Look,” said Adele. “I don’t want you to feel bad about this. I know what you’ve been going through this past year. A lot of change. I think Sand Castles is going to sell very well, and if it does maybe we’ll do a second series. In the meantime, you can work on some new projects.” Scraping back her chair from the table, Adele drew an enameled cigarette case and matching lighter from her handbag.
Erika frowned. With soaring cholesterol and bloodpressure, her friend was a walking time bomb. “You know, I want to have you around for a few years, Adele.”
“Trust me. I’m prolonging my life—using techniques from the Adele Henry school of stress reduction.”
Cigarettes, cognac and French cuisine…
Adele changed the subject. “Speaking of Jean, did you say you’re without her as a model for a while?”
Erika took the hint; she couldn’t force Adele to take care of herself. “They’re in Greenland. Studying walruses.” Erika’s father, Christopher Blade, had been a renowned undersea explorer, and her brother, David, had followed in his footsteps after his death. Now, David and his second wife, Jean, and his son were in the Arctic for a year. The expedition had followed closely on the heels of an overfishing study in Japan. In fact, they’d spent little time in Santa Barbara since David had married Jean a year before. The sea was their home. It had always been Erika’s, too.
Adele contemplated the burning end of her cigarette. “Kurt and I are leaving for Hilo next week. Why don’t you join us? Make it a painting trip?”
Erika smiled, shaking her head. She loved Hawaii; when she was nineteen, she’d spent three months there with her parents and David studying sharks. But she wouldn’t intrude on her publisher’s vacation time with her husband in their getaway on the Big Island. It occurred to her that Adele felt sorry for her. That was the last thing she wanted—from anyone. “Don’t worry.” She laughed. “I don’t plan to answer any personal ads while you’re gone.” Afraid to take risks. She’d just confirmed it.
Adele drew on her cigarette with a wry smile. “Hawaii can be tough on malihinis—newcomers. Especially haoles like us.”
Caucasians. Erika remembered the word.
“But, hey,” said Adele, “Haena’s a beautiful place. And all he wants is to know if you follow Dr. Spock or James Dobson.” She rolled her eyes again. “Take my advice. Get a dog.”
Erika’s present living situation didn’t allow for a dog. In fact, she’d never lived anywhere she could have one. Dogs were for people with homes. They implied permanence. Erika wanted permanence—if she could get it without more change. She’d known too much of that.
She contemplated the personal ad in Island Voice. Celibate marriage. She was probably one of the few people in the world who could see the appeal of that.
Mr. Family, she thought. Mr. Family.
Minutes later Adele paid the check with her gold card, and they stepped outside into a crisp winter breeze that made the palms chatter. Her faded carryall slung over her shoulder, her silk dress from Pier 1 Imports swishing against her legs, Erika accompanied Adele to her black Saab.
Erika walked with the slight limp that had become natural to her. Two years of rehab had made her strong and lean, but her legs would never be as they once were. She felt Adele’s appraising glance.
“You look great,” said Adele. “Really.”
“Thanks.” Adele had known her in the periods Erika thought of as Before, During and After. The present was After.
Something to remember, to be thankful for.
They paused beside the driver’s door of the Saab and embraced. “Now take care,” Adele told her, “and remember, the invitation to Hilo is open. Kurt would love to have you, too.”
“Thank you, Adele.” Erika released her. “Drive safely.”
After Adele had backed the Saab out of its space and driven off, headed for an appointment with an artist in Solvang, Erika made her way under the palms to her own car, the sun-bleached, sea-foam green Karmann Ghia she had bought eleven months before, when she began driving again.
Sliding behind the wheel, she set her carryall on the passenger seat. The copy of Island Voice showed from the top, and Erika drew out the magazine, thumbing through, looking for the ad for Sand Castles, to convince herself that she really could paint.
But she couldn’t find the right page, and instead, she turned to the classifieds in the back. Mr. Ohana…
Haena’s a beautiful place. And all he wants is to know if you follow Dr. Spock or James Dobson.
Nothing else.
Not even sex.
Erika shut the magazine and started her car. Afraid to take risks.
No pain, no gain; no guts, no glory?
No risk…no fulfillment.
Ever since David had met Jean, ever since Erika had begun to feel superfluous to her brother and his son, she’d been lonely. She missed Chris.
She wanted a family of her own.
But the usual route to that place was not for her. She always met the same obstacle in the road. No, really, it’s not you. It’s me. I’m just not ready for this. Trying to sound normal, blaming it on her accident.
Yes, Adele, I’m afraid. You would be, too.
Mr. Ohana’s personal ad, however…maybe this was a risk she could take. A child. A celibate marriage. Yes, she liked the idea.
But why did he want it?
What’s wrong with you, Mr. Ohana? she wondered. What’s your story?
Pepeluali: February
Haena: the heat
On the island of Kauai…THE RAIN SHATTERED through the Java plum trees and the ironwoods, drumming on the roof of the bungalow hidden in the foliage. Wet tropical blossoms gave off a heady aroma scarcely noticed by the occupants of the house. On the porch, Hiialo was catching rainfall in a plastic cup to measure—a “science experiment,” she had told Kalahiki.
Kal was glad she was busy—and happy. Everyone knew when she wasn’t. He turned from the envelopes littering the throw rug to the open front door and the barefoot little girl beyond. He could hear her voice under the rain, talking to a lizard out on the porch.
“Aloha, Mr. Skink. My name is Hiialo. This is Eduardo…”
Eduardo
