Haole Wood (28 page)

“Did you tell Lois we are hanging out?”

“No. I let her visit with Shayna. I’m going to go see her again next week.”

Lana brushed at her eyes, changing the energy. “Why don’t you come to the gym with me, I’m teaching a hula aerobics class.”

I laughed. “Thanks for the offer. Maybe some other time. I have a lot of work to do, and, I have exercise deficit disorder.

At Lana’s beautifully quirked eyebrows, (I’d have to ask where she got her brows shaped) I took a rain check. “I really do want to try hula aerobics, especially if it gets me anywhere near the outline of a body that you have.”

Lana leaned in for a quick kiss on my cheek, surprising me. “You’re a funny one. Good luck with Haole Wood. Let’s do lunch tomorrow.”

I agreed and returned to my grandmother’s garage. I loved the smell of it. The cool space smelled like scissors and sewing, and success. It had two windows on the west side facing into an overgrown jungle of birds of paradise and palm trees, their fronds fanning against the windows, standing guard like a servant girl, in synch with the distant surf. The sunlight found its way in, casting a muted, comfortable glow in the workspace. I set up two long tables on either side of the old garage, its cement floor cool underfoot.

The two Marys and Maria worked sewing machines on one side, and now Lana’s two aunties were at the other table on the opposite side. A large folding table sat like an island in the middle of the floor, covered in a bright yellow Hawaiian print tablecloth. The women used it for laying out fabric and cutting their patterns. To the rear, my grandmother’s ironing board stood. One more borrowed table completed the workshop where my grandmother and I would fold and pack the wraps for shipping. A fan, two old floor lamps scavenged from my grandmother’s house and my grandmother’s radio, tuned to Hawaiian music, made it feel like a 1950s movie set. I kept thinking maybe Elvis would show up one day. I loved every inch of it.

I hummed along with the breeze that slows down time, and learned how to “make it work.” I relished the feel of the fabric slipping through my fingers, the rustle it made as I folded it. I fell into bed at night, exhausted from work and supervising the seamstresses, since Lois wasn’t around. Though they were all hard workers, I missed Lois.

The clothing company from Australia had been in touch several times, and the president planned on coming to visit. I was excited, but not too sure about what I wanted to happen. Haole Wood was so new. It still felt like a rare bouquet of exotic flowers ready to burst into bloom, sent by a secret admirer. I was so proud of our sunshminas. I couldn’t stop thinking about new pieces for the line and kept doodling new ideas and slogans for marketing. “I’m kukui for Haole Wood.” I didn’t say they were good ideas.

Spending time with Halmoni became as soothing and addictive as the morning teas she made me. She was so happy to see Jac and me together, and would shoo us off every time I tried to invite her out with us. “Not that, not that.”

Jac and I took our relationship to a new level. That’s just a joke. We saw each other a lot, but with guys, who could tell? Sometimes I swear, I felt like breaking out the jump rope, “Boys are from Jupiter, that’s why they’re stupider.” We would oftentimes have these parallel conversations. I thought he was talking about our relationship, but as it turned out, he was talking about a case he worked on. The
deepness
he felt and
elastic connectivity
resided in the abscess of a puss-filled tumor in one of his patients. I vowed to work on my patience.

In between work, and spending time with Halmoni and Jac, and lunch with my new bff Lana, I saw Shayna almost every day. She stayed busy and out of trouble by coming over to the garage to order the women, and me, around. She had taken charge of the woven hats, similar to the one she and the others made for me, which were very time consuming to make. She was also working on our new sarong.

Everything should have been perfect as I began to build my daily routine, but I still felt my turtles fighting.

“It’s weird,” I explained to Jac. “I guess I feel a lot of guilt toward Shayna, because I pointed the finger at her mother. But, I’m still not convinced she did it.”

Jac listened to me, encouraged me and kissed me. “At least your business is doing well, and you’re helping out a lot with Shayna. I’m sure Lois appreciates that.” Jac hugged me. “And, I’m happy you are getting to know Lana. I told you she’s a good friend.” I smiled and kissed him some more, making sure to erase any images that the lovely Lana may have burned into his retina, or fingertips.

“She’s taking me to her hula aerobics class,” I told him.

“Can I watch?” he asked.

“No, but maybe I’ll give you a private demonstration.”

After the hula class, an unbelievably torturous routine of hip grinding that kicked my butt, I was pooped. “You Hawaiian girls are just double-jointed,” I complained to Lana. Us haoles just can’t quite shake it like that.”

Lana bumped her hips into me. “Oh, Jaswinder,” she said. “I wish I had that swing in my backyard.”

“Now you’re just making fun of me.”

Lana laughed. “You did great for your first time. You just have to loosen up.” Lana demonstrated by swiveling her hips.

“You have bobble-headed hips,” I said. “No fair.”

“So, do you still want to come over to my place, or are you too busy today?” she asked me, snapping her fingers.

“You even do that sexy,” I complained, trying to snap my fingers in slow motion. “I have time. I’d love to come over. And, can I get the names and numbers of those women at your club who want to buy sunshminas?”

“I have a whole list for you,” Lana told me.

“That’s so cool, Lana. I feel like I should pay you commission or something. I really can’t thank you enough for all of your help.”

Lana looked over at me and laughed. “It’s my pleasure. I’m excited for you.”

The day was brighter than an Instagram picture, with special effects highlighting the deep blue sky and golden aura of paradise. It was so fun having a friend like Lana.

“Thanks, Lana. That’s so nice. Plus, I’ve been dying to see your house.” I slid into the passenger seat of Lana’s red convertible Mustang, feeling like one of the beautiful people. A few miles later, we pulled into a lush tropical complex, Sand Pointe Place. “Do they charge you extra for the
e
in Pointe?” I asked her, trying to get my whiplashed hair back under control.

“I’m sure they do,” she said as we parked. “I like it here,” Lana said, leading me up a path lined with huge red and yellow hibiscus flowers. Their crepe petals bobbed in the breeze, nodding their approval to the succulent red ginger plants and sturdy stalks of orangish heloconia plants. Clouds that looked like they were painted with a light touch and wispy paintbrush hovered high over the ocean.

Lana waved to her neighbors sitting out on their lanai, a middle-aged couple who beamed at her greeting. “Thanks for the lemons, Lana,” the woman called out.

“My pleasure,” she said. “I’ll come by later for some lemonade,” she told them.

“They are the sweetest people,” she told me. “They keep an eye on me.”

“Well, I bet they like hanging out with a celebrity,” I teased her.

“Would you stop?” She unlocked her front door. “Come on in,” she said. “If you’re nice, I’ll give you some lemons to take home, too.”

That was the thing about Lana. She was so down to earth once you got to know her. “Holy cow,” I said, pretending to genuflect. “This place is amazing. I’m never going to leave.”

Lana laughed. “Thank you.”

“Did you decorate this yourself?”

Lana nodded.

“No fair. You sing, you act, you look like a Hawaiian goddess and you decorate. What don’t you do?”

“Laundry or bathrooms,” she said.

Inside her condo, it looked like Lana had taken a ray of sunlight, cooled it down and splashed it on her walls. “It’s not bright yellow, it’s not lemony, it’s more like homemade churned butter.”

“Close,” Lana said. “It’s called Sun Cream.”

“Talk about feng shui. I seriously don’t want to leave,” I said, plopping down into the soft, off-white overstuffed couch. The whitewashed wooden end table held a huge perfect conch shell next to a bowl of blowzy pink roses that picked up the soft hues of the seashell. I drank it all in, trying to memorize the details, hoping to have a place like this myself someday. Her living room was so perfect, and clean. It smelled like key lime pie. I leaned my head back, the cushion cocooning my neck, and tried not to be too jealous. The colors, the textures, the energy of the room all conspired to make me feel like I belonged there, and could stay forever. Who lives that way? I remembered thinking.

“Not you
.
” I could practically hear my guardian angel. I didn’t need him to make me feel bad about myself, I was pretty much a superstar when it came to that. For about the hundredth time, I was grateful someone like Lana was friends with someone like me.

“Would you like some tea?”

“Sure.” I nodded. “Here, let me help. Oh, wow. You even have an ocean view.”

“Peek-a-view,” Lana corrected me, as she handed me a delicate milky-blue colored china teacup. I looked out her kitchen window.

I poured the tea out of the little pot into both of our cups and sniffed its warm fumes. “Only in Hawaii can hot tea be refreshing.” I took a sip, cooling the brew over my tongue. “My grandmother always has the funkiest concoctions, and I swear, whatever she gives me seems to be exactly what I need at the time. You now, she’ll pull out the chamomile to calm me down, or peppermint to pick me up. I think she gives me a lot of ginseng, too,” I said, tapping my head. “I need that at all times.” Carefully balancing my tea, I went back into her living room.

“Your grandmother does know her herbs,” Lana said.

I took another sip. “What flavor is this, Lana? I’m trying to learn.”

“Oh, I think you’ll really like this one,” Lana said with her trademark wind chime laugh. “See if you can figure out the separate flavors.”

I sipped again, relaxing deeper into her couch and embracing the Maui way of life. I sighed. “There’s just a hint of jasmine, but something else?” I felt so peaceful. I smiled at Lana. “Tell me what it was like, Lana, growing up here in Maui.”

“It was paradise,” Lana said, sitting across from me. She smiled at me over her own cup of tea. “Are you doing okay? Let me get the names of those women who are interested in your sunshminas.” She went to a perfect little white desk in the corner of the room and pulled out a wicker basket full of papers.

“I want to put my notes in a wicker basket,” I said, feeling more relaxed by the second. “So, what did you say this tea was?”

“I didn’t,” Lana said. She came and sat back down next to me in a mismatched pink side chair with creamy polka dots. “Jaswinder? I have a confession.”

“What is it?”

She buried her face in her hands. “I miss Mike so much. Sometimes I feel like his death was all my fault.”

I sat up and leaned toward her. “You poor girl. It’s okay. Don’t cry. It wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t know that,” she said. “But, thank you. How are you feeling?”

She was so sweet, trying to change the subject. “I feel fine.” I told her. “Maybe I was a hula girl in my last life,” I said. I started to sweat and I smoothed my hair and swiped my pinkies under my lower lids to make sure my mascara hadn’t melted off.

“Or maybe you’ll be a hula girl in your next life,” Lana suggested.

“Hmm? What do you mean?” I swallowed a little burp. My fingers fluttered to my mouth. “I’m feeling a little queasy, Lana. I think I need to use your bathroom.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” Lana said. “It’s my special tea that I gave you. I call it my Specialty. Why don’t you just lay down?”

I nodded. That sounded good. I eased my head back against the arm of her couch. A perfect sand-colored soft chenille pillow cradled my head. I kept my feet angled on the floor, not wanting to get Lana’s sofa dirty. I felt so hot. “Lana, I’m sorry, I really don’t feel well.” I looked over at her and did a double take. My guardian angel was glowering behind Lana’s head. “Now what? What did I do?”

“Sh,” Lana answered. “You didn’t do anything. Don’t worry,” she smoothed her hand over my forehead. “Don’t stress, just relax. You’ll feel better in a few minutes. I put some jasmine and valerian in your tea so you can just slip right off to sleep.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t want you to suffer.”

Her fingers felt so good stroking my hair. I was so lethargic I couldn’t even sit up. I pushed my fingers up to my eyes, trying to hold my lids open. “What? It was you? You killed Mike Hokama. Not Lois. Why?” My tongue was so thick I was surprised Lana could understand me.

“Oh honey, why do you even care about Mike? Well, I suppose it was an inconvenience to your grandmother, but not as much as this is going to be. She’ll be blamed for this, slipping her poor haole granddaughter some bad herbs. You’re my new best friend, everyone knows that, and you came over to visit after our hula class. You wanted me to try this energy tea your granny makes for you. You talk about her ginseng brew all the time, and you brought some to share with me. How was I supposed to know it was poison? I tried to save you, but,” Lana waved her dancing hands, spelling out a tragic tale, “I was too late. I may even take a little sip myself to make the story that much more believable.”

“Why?” I don’t know if the words made it out of my throat. I couldn’t make sense of this. I felt as if I was running underwater. My arms and legs were so heavy and not responding.

“You’re so nosy, I had to keep my eye on you. If you just would have minded your own business, left Lois alone and stopped trying to help her, none of this would have been necessary.”

Lana sounded like a loving Hawaiian mother, scolding her child for spilling her milk. “Mike used to call me his little Maui flower. Do you know what Maui’s flower is?”

I struggled to sit up, and tried to think. “Isn’t it the hibiscus or something? Please, Lana, help me.” I tried to slap my own cheeks.