29. ‘Ōlena

When Nate showed up unannounced for the second time that week, ‘ōlena felt a warmth in her gut that couldn’t entirely be attributed to irritation. Which, the moment she realized it, only made her more annoyed with him. She refused to let her attraction show.

She crossed her arms and looked down at him from the lanai.

“The girls aren’t here today. My parents took them to the hot ponds.”

“I know.” Nate grinned up at her. He knew her too well to be put off by a few curt words.

She squinted at him suspiciously. “Have you been talking to my parents?”

His grin was unrepentant. “They’ve always liked me.”

“What are you doing here, Nathan?”

“I want to show you something.”

“What?”

“It’s a bit of a drive.”

“No.”

“Not far. But too far to walk. It’s on the other side of the highway.”

She narrowed her eyes, hoping that if she glared at him hard enough, he would go away. But his expression remained serene, even hopeful.

“Please?”

“Fine.” Going against all logic, she walked across her front yard and got into his truck.

The truth – and it was one that she could hardly admit to herself, much less anyone else – was that she wanted to be near him.

That magnetism, the sense of peace that she felt when she was by his side, had never really gone away. It had been overpowered by grief and resentment for the brief period of their divorce, and it had been relatively easy to resist over the years when she only saw him for a few minutes here and there, when he was on island and would come to pick the girls up for a day at the beach or some other weekend outing.

But now, things weren’t so clear cut. The longer he stayed, the more he kept showing up and investing time in the community and keeping his word, the harder it became for ‘ōlena to resist the gravitational pull that she felt towards this man.

It didn’t mean that she had to like it. As a matter of fact, she downright resented the hold that he still had over her, all these years after their separation. But, at least in her own head, she had given up trying to pretend that attraction didn’t exist.

They didn’t speak as Nate drove up the mauna.

But then, he had always been comfortable with silence.

That easy peace that existed between them had been one of the things that she’d loved most about him. They could climb mountains or sit on the beach for hours, enjoying the beauty of the island and the pleasure of each other’s company without filling the air with useless words.

She felt a prickle of apprehension when they passed a huge For Sale sign on a quiet stretch of road. Sure enough, he turned up the private driveway and kept going up the hill. There was a solid wall of green jungle to one side of the private road and a vast orchard on the other. Dozens – no, hundreds of lychee trees grew on the gentle slope, all of them covered in green fruit.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Fifty acres,” he replied.

She gaped at the rolling green property as they continued up the hill. It was gorgeous, with several acres of orchard surrounded by pasture that gave way to uncut jungle. If it was really fifty acres, most of it was still uncleared.

“Are you thinking of buying this place?” she asked in disbelief.

“I already did.” Nate grinned broadly at her look of shock as he parked at the top of the hill.

In the distance, she glimpsed a deep blue patch of ocean beneath the clear blue sky.

Nate got out of the truck and circled around to open ‘ōlena’s door. She remained where she was, seatbelt on, staring at him.

“You bought it,” she said flatly.

“Yep.” He was still grinning, but there was something else in his eyes. Something deeper and more vulnerable. ‘ōlena looked away from him to peer out the front window, then turned to look back over her shoulder.

“Is there a house?”

“No house.” His voice came out in a pleasant rumble, almost a laugh. “I put everything I had into the land, so the house will take some time. I’ll be in that rental in Pualena for a while yet.”

“So… you’re a lychee farmer now.”

“To start.” His grin was so charming that she hardly minded when he reached across and unbuckled her seatbelt. “That’s a profitable business on its own. But I want to diversity, plant more fruit trees. All kinds. Would you come see?”

There was such a deep longing in his voice beneath all that bombastic hope that her body moved on its own accord, out of the truck and up the hill beside him.

“Someday there will be a big house right here,” he said as they reached the summit. “For now, I’ll put a trailer up here that I can use as an office. Remember my dad’s old camper?”

‘ōlena blushed. “I remember.”

“Well, I’ve been fixing it up. It’s nearly done. Those lychees should bring in enough money this summer to clear a few more acres and plant more trees. I’m going to keep pouring the profits back into the land for a while. Then, eventually, I’ll build a house.”

“You’re really serious about this.”

Nate took her hands and looked into her eyes, as earnest as she had ever seen him. “I keep trying to tell you that I’m here to stay, Lei. When have I ever lied to you?”

“I didn’t think that you were lying.” She tried to look away, but found that she couldn’t. “I just thought that you’d get tired of the island after a while. Tired of us.”

“I could never get tired of my home or my family. I tried to tell you years ago, that’s not why I left. I just didn’t want to work a nine to five and live in some moldy rental forever. I wanted more than that for our girls, and for you.”

“And for yourself.”

“Is that so wrong? I wanted to build something for our girls, something that would last. And now I can.”

“You missed out on so much. First words, first steps.”

“But I’m here now, for all the rest of it. I’m not going anywhere.” He cupped her face with one hand, so strong and solid that it felt like a shield between her and all the worries of the world. “Would you give me another chance?”

She tried to shake her head but only succeeded in pressing her cheek against the palm of his hand. He leaned down to kiss her, and she let him.

Time seemed to melt and warp; she had no idea how long she spent in his arms. But at the distant rumble of a truck driving up the road, she pulled away.

The huge black truck coming their way looked familiar. It got closer, and she saw her dad behind the wheel. Two little faces appeared out the back window.

“You told my parents to meet us here?”

“They’re early.” He waved at them and put an arm around her.

An old fear told her to pull away, to pretend indifference in front of her parents and the girls. Instead, she leaned into him. And deep in her soul, she felt nothing but a warm relief – the comfort of finally being where she was meant to be.

“Is this all ours?” Luana shouted as she tumbled out of the truck.

“It’s all ours, baby girl!” Nate shouted back.

She and Kiki raced up the hill. Without letting go of ‘ōlena, Nate scooped them both up into a hug. Luana looped an arm around ‘ōlena’s shoulders and the four of them stood there for a moment, holding each other. A family.

“So, this is where the house will go?” Manō boomed as he walked up the hill.

Nate released his girls and went to shake Manō’s hand. The older man swatted his hand aside and pulled him into a hug.

Mahina walked up to stand beside ‘ōlena. She put an arm around her daughter as they watched Luana and Kiki roll giggling down the grassy hill to the orchard.

“He’s here to stay,” Mahina said, looking over to where Nate and Manō were talking animatedly about his plans for the house.

“Yeah,” ‘ōlena said, finally releasing the pessimistic certainty that, sooner or later, he would disappear again. “I think he is.”

From the top of the hill, Nate caught her eye and grinned. She felt a familiar pull in her chest – and for once, she didn’t try to fight it. She walked up the hill and into his arms.

He kissed her temple and held her close as Manō talked about leveling the top of the hill and what sort of footprint they would want for their house.

‘ōlena leaned into him, absorbing the warmth of his body along with her parents’ voices and her daughters’ laughter.

In that moment, she was exactly where she needed to be. No missing pieces.

It felt like coming home.