Kona and Luka, CPU win over Florida State, Sophomore Year, 1997
“It says that’s your daddy and someone called Luka.” The baby held the picture, looking harder for a second before he tossed the picture back in my hand.
“Hello?” I heard and twisted around with Koa still in my lap as Kona walked into the living room.
“Hey,” I said, standing with Koa, that picture still in my free hand. “Keira’s napping and Koa wanted to look at family pictures.”
“He did?” Kona said, voice rising as it did whenever he wanted his son’s attention. “Who you looking at, buddy?” Koa went to his father, giving him a kiss before he pointed to me and the picture in my hand.
“Sorry,” I said, handing it over. “We didn’t know who this was so I took it out to see if there was an inscription.”
I knew the second Kona’s gaze landed on the picture that it brought him pain rather than joy. That happy, warm smile of a moment ago immediately fell when he looked down at the picture in his hands, rubbing his thumb over the surface.
“Maku?” Koa asked again and jerked his attention to his father when he reached for the picture and Kona held it back from him.
“No, pēpē, that’s not makuakāne,” he finally said, sitting with his son on the sofa while I hurried to pick up the photo album from the floor.
I’d never seen Kona Hale be anything but happy. Tired, sure, but not once had I ever seen him upset or angry. It wasn’t exactly an easy thing to watch, him looking down at that picture like he’d lost his best friend and his toddler touching his face as though he wanted to know where that frown had come from.
“Kona, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched the picture. I’ll…I can put it up for you.”
“No, it’s okay.” He shook his head, pulling Koa closer to his chest and held the picture out in front of him. “This is your Uncle Luka, keiki kane.” He glanced at me. “My twin brother.”
“Two of you?” I said, hoping my joke would ease the tension that picture had caused. He did at least grin a bit.
“Yeah, there was.” Kona nodded to his left, offering me a seat and he scooted toward the arm of the sofa to put Koa between us. “He died our second year in college.” Kona let Koa take the picture, but still kept an eye on how he handled it.
“God, Kona, I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
A half grin that was sad, and Kona nodded. “Yeah, me too.” To Koa he said, “This was Uncle Luka and makua kāne when we kicked Florida State’s ass…um butts. I met Mama just two weeks later.”
Kona pulled the photo album from my lap and flipped the pages until he reached a blank sleeve and slid the picture back inside. “Luka was more than just a brother, he was the best friend I ever had, until Ransom.” He glanced at me over Koa’s head. “Tore my heart out to lose him to something so stupid.” I thought about asking how Luka died, but didn’t want to upset Kona more than he already was. I’d have no idea how to handle him as anything other than the friendly, sweet man I’d been around for over a month. He kissed the top of his son’s head. “My boys,” he started, grinning over at me, “I see Luka in them every day.”
My chest felt tight as I watched Kona looking down at his son. “Who’s this?” I asked Koa, trying to move the focus away from loss and into something happier. The picture was of Keira and Kona holding Koa in the hospital bed.
“Pēpē?” he said, tilting his head like he didn’t know why his parents would be holding onto some strange baby.
“That’s you.” The boy looked at his father like he didn’t believe him and jumped right to the next page, then two more before he stopped on another picture of Ransom.
The sight of a slightly younger Ransom, smiling so wide with his arms wrapped around the waist of a lovely redhead girl who was perched on his lap, surprised me, had my heart skipping a beat. This was the girl. The one who he couldn’t forget. The one who kept him trapped in the past.
She was beautiful, the kind of girl who had a natural beauty, who didn’t have to work hard to take the breath away. Freckles covered her face, a small smattering on her high cheekbones, less along the bridge of her nose. The picture showed off her brilliant eyes, and the red in her wispy, wavy hair. It was easy to see why Ransom had been drawn to her. She had a genuinely friendly face, and a smile that was warm, as though she’d go out of her way to have you return her smile. I couldn’t hate anyone who looked that friendly. Even if she still had a tight grip on Ransom’s heart.
“That?” Koa asked his father in that odd little way of his that seemed perfectly normal to me now. He wanted to know who the girl in the picture was.
Again Kona glanced at me, and I wasn’t sure what to make of his expression. He had no reason to think that I might be upset by the picture, so I was confused when he glanced from it to me and then looked quickly away.
When he didn’t answer, I did. “That’s Emily. That’s Ransom’s friend.”
“You?”
I ignored Kona’s laugh and brushed back the hair from Koa’s forehead. “No, sweetie, not like me. Emily was his special friend.”
“You?” the baby gave me the strangest look—curious, almost troubled, but I dismissed it, shaking my head when he kept watching me.
“Not…not like that.”
“Not yet,” Kona said, closing the album. When he handed it back to his son, the boy ran into the Kona’s office and I watched him through the door as he stood in front of the bookshelf. “Ransom…he hasn’t gotten over…everything,” Kona said, voice a little defeated.
“I guess not.” A glance at Kona and I wondered again about Luka and the shadow that crossed the man’s eyes when he’d looked at that picture. “That’s not an easy thing to get over.”
“No,” he said, looking through the patio doors and out onto the lake. “It’s really not.” After an exhale, Kona leaned back against the sofa, fingers against his cheek, bringing back that small smile. “Maybe you can help Ransom with that.”
“Me?” That was the worst idea in the history of ideas. Kona should have known that. Ransom and I had been around each other for weeks, around his family as well and it was always fun, laughing with them, watching how they all interacted. But I wasn’t family. Inviting me into their lives was one thing. Expecting me to stay there was another. “Ransom and I, he just helps me with the audition song and he’s giving me a hand with a new dance for the recital. We aren’t…I mean…”
Kona took a breath, avoiding my eyes before he spoke. “Leann told Keira what she saw at the studio the other night.” Before I could start in with a list of made-up excuses, Kona held up his hand, silencing me. “It’s not my business, sweetheart. But I can’t say I wasn’t happy hearing it.”
I turned, sitting on my leg to look Kona square in the face. “You don’t think that it was, I don’t know…inappropriate?”
“Why the hell would I think that?”
“Because I’m…well,” moving my hand around did nothing to help me think of the right word. “Kona, I’m the hired help.”
When his laugh came, it was so loud Koa stepped back into the living room, looking first at me then at his dad. “Oh, Aly Cat, you are a hell of a lot more than just the help.” He brushed my arm when I only stared at him, not joining in his humor. After a pause, the laughter stopped but he still kept that smile firmly in place. “My mom and aunt both cleaned houses and worked as maids in Hawaii before either of them got ahead. We come from a long damn line of people who aren’t ashamed to break a sweat.” He paused to let Koa back on the sofa and sat the boy in his lap with a new book. “And I shouldn’t have to remind you that Keira worked as a waitress at some dumpy diner for ten years before she caught a break. She’s scrubbed toilets, waxed floors, degreased disgusting stovetops and broke up more drunken cowboy fights than you’d ever believe.” He shrugged again. “Every penny we have, we worked our a-s-s-e-s” he spelled the curse word out while Koa flipped through the pages of his monkey book, “off to get where we are. Keira’s family may have been old money, but we aren’t.”