Page 18 of Big Island Weddings
“And letting the grass overtake the orchard.”
“One person can only do so much. You had your hands full over here already.”
“And I didn’t even have a business yet.” Tara laughed, but the sound was full of overwhelm.
“Let me help. I’m not the cook you are, but I take direction well. And I’m good on an assembly line.” She put the lid on the last container and asked, “Was that all of them?”
“Yeah, that’s all for the week.”
Emma tilted the huge mixing bowl her way. “Still a couple of servings left.”
Tara chuckled. “Want a glass of iced tea with your ‘ulu salad?”
“Sounds perfect. I’ll just put these in the fridge.”
“The middle fridge in the garage has space.”
“Roger that.”
Tara reached out to squeeze her arm. “Thank you.”
“What else are friends for?” Emma asked lightly. “We’ll take a lunch break – I’m guessing you need one – and you can tell me what we’re making next.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
7
Lani
Tenn and Olivia were already home when they got back. She parked behind his truck and opened the door to the warm smell of tempura coming from the kitchen.
He stood at the stove with his back to her, battering and frying vegetables. Olivia was at the kitchen table, carefully slicing cucumbers.
“Rory!” she said when she saw them. “Look! I’m making sunomono!”
Tenn turned to them with a grin. “Good, you’re home. Lunch is almost ready.”
“It smells amazing,” she told him, though her stomach twisted in ways that had nothing to do with the good smells filling the kitchen.
She had to tell him. And soon, as soon as they had a moment alone. Maybe after lunch she could put a movie on for the girls and–
“Mom?” Olivia’s tone was hesitant, like it usually was when trying out her new name for Lani. It was like she wasn’t quite sure of her. Lani could hardly blame her for that. The familial names still felt like too much too soon, but she hadn’t had the heart to say no when the girls had asked.
“Yeah?” Lani walked towards the kitchen table and stopped just short of it, resting her hands on the back of one of the chairs.
“Do you like sunomono?”
She smiled at the easy question. “Sure do.”
“Good.” Olivia grinned and went back to slicing. She was only seven years old, but she was a chef’s daughter through and through. Tenn had been including her in food prep since before she could stand.
“Guess what!” Rory burst out, hopping onto the chair across from Olivia.
“What?” She was only half paying attention, her eyes on her work.
“I met my Babbo today!”
Olivia put her knife down and frowned, tiny nose scrunched in confusion. “Your what?”
