Page 51 of Big Island Horizons
“What?”
“When you decided to move away.”
“My dad died at the start of my senior year.” She looked down at her lap. “We had already lost my mom when I was a teenager, and I didn’t want to move away and leave him all alone. But with him gone too, this was the last place I wanted to be. I finished up the year on autopilot; I hardly even remember it. My cousin helped me land a cruise ship job, and I left.”
“I’m so sorry about your parents,” Sonya said with genuine compassion. She reached out to pat her knee, and Lani found herself blinking back tears.
“Thank you.”
“What did you say to her?” Tenn asked as he came in with two cups of tea.
“Nothing at all!” Sonya exclaimed. “I’ve been perfectly cordial.”
He made a skeptical sound as he set down the mugs.
“Ken! Haven’t I been cordial?”
“Perfectly cordial,” he agreed.
“That doesn’t even sound like a word anymore,” Tenn muttered as he went back for the rest of the tea.
“He’s head over heels for you,” Sonya whispered when he was in the kitchen. “You know that, right?”
Lani smiled bashfully. “Yeah. I know.”
A few feet away, Rory let out a sudden wail that made Lani jump.
“What?”
“It broke!” she exclaimed, on the verge of tears.
“It’s okay,” Olivia said. “I’ll help you make another one.”
“But those were all the blue beads and now they’re in the rug and I can’t even see them!”
“We’ll find them. It’s okay. Let’s look.”
Rory sniffed and put on a brave face. “Okay.”
“Here’s your tea,” Tenn said as he walked back in.
Lani had never seen such a grumpy expression on his face, and it made her laugh.
“What?”
“I don’t even know.” She picked up a mug of tea and blew on it.
It felt good to be distracted by everyday problems, like beads on the carpet and overbearing parents. Problems that were truly blessings, if you could just step back and take a proper look at things. It felt cozy and domestic and just chaotic enough to distract her from the real problems that were scratching at her door.
They sipped their tea and chatted as the girls rounded up the scattered beads. With Tenn in the room, talk turned to the cafe. He had just added a new pastry case featuring treats from a local bakery, and apparently the baker was an old friend of his parents. She had retired from teaching and become a pastry chef.
When Tenn’s parents finally said goodbye and left, the lack of small talk settled in like a vacuum. The girls were busy painting each other’s nails on thelanai, Dio was asleep in a patch of sun, and the living room was quiet.
“Sorry about that,” Tenn said after he had seen his parents out.
“Don’t apologize for your parents,” she said gently. “You’re lucky to have them.”
He frowned and sat down beside her, taking her hand in his. “You’re right. That was insensitive of me.”
