Page 2 of His Hawaiian Heart
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll catch something?” Okay, so I was still stinging a bit from that earlier remark.
A trill of laughter surprised me further. “Trust me, I’m not with those women. I may be old, but I promise I’m not a Puritan who believes sex to be either dirty or nasty. Nor do I believe there is anything wrong with enjoying life’s pleasures whenever possible.”
The horror of the day lightened with her smile and her assurance, but it was when she took the vibrator as easily as she did the glasses that I truly believed her. With my hands now free, I slid my backpack’s straps off my shoulders, unzipped it, and began to remove some items in order to assess what the best way was to shove the remainder of my belongings into its depths.
“Oh, that’s beautiful,” she said.
Startled, I looked up and then blushed.
“Oh, my, you thought I meant this?” she said, holding up the vibrator. “While I can see its attributes, I was speaking of that magnifying glass.” She gestured toward my hands. “It looks like the one my grandfather had on his desk. He was a lepidopterist and as he aged, he needed the glass to see all the tiny details of the butterflies in his collection.”
It took me a second to get over the fact she’d used the purple dildo to point to the object of discussion, but hearing of her grandfather’s hobby made me smile. Holding up the item I’d never trust to a suitcase, I said, “It was a gift from my father who handed it down from his dad. I’m not sure what Gramps originally used it for, but Dad used it in his studies and passed it on to me when I entered college. I’ve taken it with me on everyresearch expedition. Using it reminds me of home no matter where in the world I find myself.”
“What a lovely thought. I believed you must work in the research field when I saw these,” she said, holding up the microscope glasses. “You must have a very interesting job.”
“I think I do. Even though many people would turn their nose up at living in a tent or working in intense desert heat or the humidity of the rain forest, I’ve yet to find a bug that hasn’t fascinated me.”
“I envy the young women of today. In my youth we were just starting to be acknowledged as having skills that included more than keeping house and changing diapers.”
“But it was your generation pushing against that glass ceiling that allowed future generations to literally range further afield.”
“Thank you. That’s a far better way to consider it. Your parents must be so proud to know you’re one of those young women making a difference.”
“I think they are,” I said as I rewrapped the magnifying glass in a t-shirt. I tucked it back into the backpack and then added the microscope glasses and finally the vibrator. I left the bag unzipped, deciding that if needed, I’d simply pull on whatever clothing I could to allow room for other items I managed to snag off the conveyor.
Not yet seeing my bag reappear, I also noticed there was no suitcase beside her. “If you’ll tell me which suitcase is yours, I’ll be glad to grab it for you,” I said.
“No need, dearie. My grandson already took care of my luggage.”
“Oh, okay. Well, thanks again for the help.” I hesitated then added, “And for your kindness.”
“Posh, I don’t need thanks for that. I just wish my husband were still with us. Harry would have taught those reprobates a thing or two, though you did quite a good job yourself.”
“Just don’t tell my mom. She’d not be as forgiving of my lack of manners.” I smiled to let her know I wasn’t all that worried. “Your Harry sounds like someone I would have loved knowing. You must really miss him.”
“I do and believe he would have loved you as well. He had a soft spot for women who refused to be pushed down or set aside. And speaking of manners, where did I leave mine? My name is Harriett—” She smiled when I gasped. “I know, Harry and Harriett. We used to joke how fate made sure we’d know we were meant to find each other by giving us matching names.”
“It is very nice to meet you, Harriett.” I held out my hand but she just smiled and opened her arms. Without hesitation, I stepped into them, reminding myself to hug lightly due to her age. Once again, she surprised me. Her hug wasn’t one of a woman afraid a genuine hug would break her bones. Her skin was very soft and wrinkled and yet her grip told me Harriett didn’t just have the personal strength to stand up to what she considered social injustice, but physical strength inside her aging body. When we pulled apart, it felt as if my day had become so much brighter.
“Thank you. I needed that more than I can say.”
“A nice hug tells a lot about a person,” she said sagely.
“My name’s Sam.” At her surprised expression, I laughed. “It’s really Samantha, but my friends call me Sam. I think you and I could be friends if, well, if we hadn’t met at luggage claim. Obviously, we’re both traveling.”
“I believe I’ll consider us already fast friends, Sam,” Harriett said with another bright smile. “Promise me you won’t let this unfortunate beginning ruin your vacation. The islands have a way of reminding one that each day is full of the unexpected. Life is short and you never know what rainbow you’ll find just around the next bend in the road.”
Spying my sad-looking case sliding down the incline toward the conveyor belt, I gestured toward it and all the colors of the decals on its surface. “It’s a good thing I’m not here on vacation then as it seems like my rainbow is a bit broken.” Still I hesitated to leave her alone. “Are you sure I can’t help you find your grandson?”
“I see him coming now,” Harriett said, giving my hand a final squeeze before releasing it. “Perfect, you can meet?—”
I winced as the drop from the ramp onto the belt caused the last clasp to snap, the suitcase now completely open and flipped upside down to allow the final contents their freedom. “Forget broken. Seems it decided to throw up again. I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.” I grabbed my backpack and slung it over one shoulder. “Bye and thanks again, Harriett.”
Waving over my shoulder, I repeatedly murmured, “Excuse me, pardon me,” as I made my way through the dwindling crowd to reach my suitcase. Without thought as to what anyone else might think, I would occasionally dart forward, bend and grab whatever I could reach and stuff the item into my backpack. A few people took pity on me and added additional items to the growing pile at my feet. It took another cycle of the conveyor before I was pretty sure my belongings were accounted for, and even managed a shaky laugh when the destroyed suitcase was set down beside me to lean lopsidedly on one wheel. Its interior only contained those few toiletries I’d stowed in the smaller net compartment that still had a working zipper.
Evidently, I’d packed far more than I’d thought as it was becoming apparent I’d need to either leave some of the clothing behind or risk being unable to carry my backpack over the mound of clothing I’d have to pull on over my jeans and t-shirt. Sitting back on my heels, I turned as another suitcase was set down beside my dead one. “Oh, thanks, but that’s not mine,” I said, looking up.
“A gentleman asked me to make sure you got it,” a woman in the uniform of an airport employee said. The stitched tag above her left breast bore her name.
