Authors: Robin Jones Gunn
“Robin Jones Gunn is the perfect tour guide for this joy-filled Hawaiian adventure. You’ll feel the sand between your toes, taste sweet pineapple juice, see amazing rainbows—all without having to put on a bathing suit! Your travel partners, two turning-forty chicks, will feel like old friends the minute you hit the beach. Funny, touching, and true to life,
doing the hula (and loving it!) by the last page. Grab your grass skirt, girlfriend—this is one trip you don’t want to miss!”
IGGS, BEST-SELLING AUTHOR OF
“In real-life, Robin Gunn is my very own special sisterchick! Her books capture the warmth and humor that mark our friendship—and that keep readers hooked until the last page. Sit back and enjoy!”
INGSBURY, BEST-SELLING AUTHOR OF THE
“The beauty of Robin’s graceful writing many times brought laughter and tears.
Sisterchicks on the Loose
was so wonderful, I didn’t think she could top it, but
Sisterchicks Do the Hula
is Robin’s best work yet. I can’t wait for the next book!”
DOING THE HULA IN
“What a vacation. Made me want to fly the coop with my sisterchick!”
“Sisterchicks Do the Hula
is one more step in my spiritual journey of awakening. The depth of the book embraced me with lessons on living in the unforced rhythm of grace. The last time I visited Hawaii, I was a
. The next time I visit, it will be with a whole new understanding of
“I picked up
Sisterchicks Do the Hula
and absolutely could not put it down! It made me feel like I was wiggling my toes in the warm sands of Waikiki Beach. It made me laugh out loud and cry a couple of times. But most of all it made me want to head out to North Dakota, grab my best girlfriend, Sherry, and hop a flight to Honolulu to see what kind of sisterchick adventure we could have together!”
“I will never hear the word
the same. No longer a trendy island greeting, it’s the essence of welcome. So is the story of Hope and Laurie. As the island breeze blew its aloha, God’s breath was blessing me with each page. Robin welcomed me to enjoy another wonderful story of fun, friendship, and aloha!”
12265 Oracle Boulevard, Suite 200
Colorado Springs, Colorado 80921
All Scripture quotations and paraphrases, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from The Message by Eugene H. Peterson. Copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002 Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked
are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked
are taken from The New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.
Copyright © 2003 by Robin’s Ink, LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Published in the United States by WaterBrook Multnomah, an imprint of The Doubleday Publishing Group, a division of Random House Inc., New York.
and its mountain colophon are register trademarks of Random House Inc.
is a registered trademark of Multnomah Books.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Gunn, Robin Jones, 1955–
1. Female friendship—Fiction. 2. Women—Hawaii—Fiction. 3. Women travelers—Fiction. 4. Hawaii—Fiction. I. Title
Gardenias for Breakfast
Finding Father Christmas
Engaging Father Christmas
Sisterchicks on the Loose!
Sisterchicks in Sombreros!
Sisterchicks Down Under!
Sisterchicks Say Ooh La La!
Sisterchicks in Gondolas!
Sisterchicks Go Brit!
The Christy Miller Series
The Sierra Jensen Series
Christy & Todd: The College Years
The Katie Weldon Series
Tea at Glenbrooke
Mothering by Heart
For Cindy, who flapped the red hibiscus bedspread over the lanai, and for Carrie, who did all the driving around Honolulu and got only one ticket. You two are the best prayer pals a sisterchick could ever ask for.
And for Janet, Julee, Kathleen, and Lisa,
who gently made this a better story
with their editorial expertise.
For the Daughters of Hawaíi, Calabash Cousins, and staff at the Mission Houses Museum.
You made me feel welcome with your gracious
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion?
Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life.
I’ll show you how to take a real rest.
Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it.
Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.”
“The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.”
aurie came up with the idea to go to Hawai’i. Both times.
The first time she made the suggestion was in 1983, when we were sophomores at UC Santa Barbara. I was up to my eyebrows in shattered bits of my heart when I burst into our dorm room to blurt out the news: My engagement was off. While I had been busy trying on bridal gowns and ordering invitations for the June 19 wedding, my fiancé was leaving work early to smooch with some seventeen-year-old cinnamon twist who worked at Taco Bell.
Laurie saw it coming, but to her everlasting credit, she didn’t try to collect my heart’s fragments and glue them back together. Instead, she administered a steady supply of tissues for my big, globby tears and listened patiently until I had no more words to spit at her.
“Hope, listen to me,” she said firmly. “You’re going be okay. Better, actually.”
I said something about how the only thing that would make me better would be some serious chocolate. So we proceeded to the vending machine at the end of our hall and ceremoniously inserted our precious laundry quarters until all the Oreos and Reese’s Pieces were ours. Returning to the room, we ate every last dot and crumb while sitting cross-legged on Laurie’s sheepskin rug.
“I think we should go somewhere on June 19,” Laurie said. “Someplace exotic.”
“Because you need a fresh start. A new dream. Something wonderful to look forward to. Where should we go?”
The only place I wanted to go was a dark cave where I could hibernate for six months.
“I have an idea.” Laurie rose to her feet. She fluttered her arms about to the right and then the left while awkwardly swishing her hips. “What do you think?”
“I think you need hula lessons,” I said flatly.
need hula lessons. And so do you. That’s why we should go to Hawai’i. On June 19. Just the two of us.”
I let the word
plant itself in my ravaged soul like a lone tiki torch flickering in the midst of all the smoke and ashes.
All we needed was some money.
Laurie and I spent spring break in Napa Valley working at the restaurant Laurie’s parents owned. We hoped for many generous tippers, but it turned out there was only one. Gabriel Giordani.
Before my eyes, Laurie fell in love with this struggling artist who came to the café every day with his two daughters. His wife had passed away a few years earlier, and all the locals loved to gossip about Gabe and his paint-splattered jeans. Laurie gave them something to really gossip about our last morning there, when she kissed Gabe on the mouth, right in front of the café window.
She and I were about three miles down the road when Laurie said, “You know what, Hope? I’m going to marry that man.”
I studied her profile and solemnly said, “I know.”
I also knew that on June 19 Laurie and I would not be flying to Honolulu. Somehow, it was okay.
Many years later, when my husband and I saw one of Gabriel’s paintings in a restaurant, I told Darren that, looking back on that season of my life, I realized I didn’t need the actual trip to Hawai’i as much as I had needed the possibility of such an adventure. That was what Laurie gave me—she dared me to dream when I wanted to die.