Island Promises: Hawaiian Holiday / Hawaiian Reunion / Hawaiian Retreat. RaeAnne Thayne
daughters, and she was in serious danger of making a fool of herself.
They made it to their gate just in time to board the connecting flight that would take them to Lihue.
He again stepped in to help her stow their bags in the overhead bin and settle Grace into her seat.
“Looks like I’m behind you a couple of rows for this leg of the trip. If you need my help on the flight, I can see about trading with someone to be closer.”
Megan told herself she wasn’t sorry for a little space to catch her breath, regain equilibrium. “You’ve done more than enough already. Thank you for all your help. I would have been sunk without you. Girls, can you tell Cara’s brother thank you for helping with our bags?”
“Thank you,” Grace said, her voice soft but her smile genuine.
“Thanks!” Sarah held out a little fist to give him a bump, something she did with Nick all the time.
He chuckled and obediently pressed his knuckles against hers, then added a complicated little side twist and top pound that made Sarah grin.
“Safe flight,” he said, before moving a few seats behind them to allow the other passengers to board. She did her best not to feel a little bereft.
“He’s nice, Mom,” Grace said. Her eyes drooped with fatigue, and Megan hugged her close, making room for her daughter to rest her head in the crook of her arm.
“Yes. Yes, he is.”
To her relief, Jean again sat near them to help entertain the girls on the long flight. By the time the captain turned off the seat belt sign, though, it was obvious the excitement and anticipation of the day were taking their toll on the girls.
They started to become petulant and cranky with each other and with her. The mood might have shifted quickly into frustration if she hadn’t pulled out their story again, ducked her head to theirs and read quietly to them. After only a few pages, both girls’ eyelids grew heavy. They fell asleep at almost exactly the same moment, as they often did.
She decided to follow their lead and steal a moment to close her eyes while she had the chance. When she awoke, she found the girls playing quietly with their Barbies, and she realized they would be reaching Lihue in only an hour.
There. Like so many other things in her life, the reality of a transoceanic flight had turned out to be far less painful than she’d imagined.
Still, by the time the plane landed, she and the girls were more than ready to escape the tight confines of their seats.
“We’re going to Hawaii.” Sarah started chanting her little song again.
“We’re gonna swim in the ocean,” Grace added.
“We’re not going to Hawaii anymore,” Megan told them. “We’re here!”
“Can we go swimming in the ocean today?” Sarah asked.
“I don’t see why not. But we have to make it to our hotel first.”
They were again last to leave the airplane. She was deeply grateful when Shane stopped to help them.
“You made it!” he said to the girls.
“Finally!” Sarah said with an exaggerated, long-suffering tone that made him smile.
They walked down the concourse to find Nick and Cara waiting for them with magenta-edged flower leis. “Welcome to Hawaii, girls!” Nick said. He put one over each of their necks with a kiss on the cheek and then added one for Megan, too.
“Thanks again for dragging them all the way out here. You’re the best ex a guy could ever want.”
She rolled her eyes as the heady scent of plumeria drifted to her. “I do my best.”
The bride and groom were distracted by others in the wedding party, and Megan began heading toward the baggage claim area.
“Oh, look at all the flowers. It’s so beautiful,” she exclaimed as they moved through the open-air terminal.
“Is this your first trip to Hawaii?” Shane asked.
She nodded. “You’ve been before, I take it.”
“A few times. Only once to Kauai, when I was a kid.”
He waited and helped her retrieve their checked luggage, and even carried the bags outside for her into the sweetly scented air. “You’re staying at the resort with everyone else, right?”
“Yes. That’s the plan. Cara made all the arrangements for us.”
“I’m renting a car. I can give you a lift to the resort.”
“Nick and Cara have arranged for a wheelchair taxi to pick us up. Thank you, though.”
“I’ll see you there, then. Girls, aloha.” He made the hang loose sign.
“What does that mean?” Grace asked.
“That’s called a shaka. It’s a Hawaiian greeting that kind of means hello, howzit, thank you, aloha. All that stuff.”
Sarah caught on immediately and did the same gesture back to him, twisting her wrist back and forth with delight, but Grace struggled with the fine motor skills necessary to stick her thumb and pinkie out at the same time.
“That’s not right,” Sarah told her sister, and Grace huffed a little with frustration.
“Here, like this.” The big, rangy cop bent down to her level and took her little hand in his to help her make the gesture.
“There it is. That’s it. Perfect.”
She beamed at him, and he grinned right back and kissed her on the forehead. As Megan watched them, something warmer and sweeter than the Hawaiian breeze settled in her chest.
Off the airplane, the girls seemed to gain a fresh wave of energy. All the way to the resort, they chattered excitedly with their driver, Pete, a big, warm native Hawaiian who was delighted to show them around his beautiful island.
“There it is! There’s the ocean,” Sarah said every time the road to their resort passed through the dense trees that opened up to that impossibly blue water.
The resort was beautiful, lushly landscaped with fringy palm trees, banyans with tangled, twisting trunks, bright explosions of colorful flowers. Megan had never seen anything as exquisite.
“You girls have a great time, now,” Pete ordered them after he helped them out and handed their bags to a waiting bellhop. “I’m gonna be checking to make sure you are.”
Sarah and Grace giggled at him and did their best shakas, which earned a wide grin and the gesture in return.
“Shootz. That means I’ll see you lateh.”
“Shootz,” both girls chorused at him with delight.
Megan had a feeling they were going to have a very interesting vocabulary before this trip was over.
By the time they checked in with the helpful hotel staff and caught a small wheelchair-adapted golf cart to their cabana, her own words failed her.
“Wow! The ocean is in our front yard!” Sarah exclaimed.
The ocean was their front yard. Their small cabana was perhaps twenty-five feet from the surf, with a wide lanai featuring a plump upholstered wicker settee and two chairs overlooking the water.
Inside, the cabana had two bedrooms, a small living area and kitchen, and a comfortable, wheelchair-accessible bathroom. The cabana’s location and size were luxuries she was completely unaccustomed to.
She needed to unpack, but while the girls were exploring their temporary home, she leaned against the lanai railing and watched baby breakers ripple to the shore. She was aware of a vague sadness, a melancholy emptiness. The cabana was beautifully romantic, the sort of place meant to be