23. Lani
23
Lani
T hey stood watching as Emma hurried up the steps and into the house.
Lani felt a numb sort of grief. She still missed Adam terribly, and he hadn’t been a part of her daily life. Emma seemed to be doing so well, but Lani knew that the grief she lived with must be crippling. No wonder it still dragged her under at times.
“Is she okay?” Keith asked, moving to stand beside her.
“No.” She looked at him, the kama’aina transplant with blue eyes and brown skin. He didn’t hold a candle to Adam. No one ever would.
This guy professed friendship, but he was obviously just waiting on the opportunity for something more. It wasn’t fair for either of them, as far as Lani was concerned.
But what did she know? She had divorced and then married within the space of a few months, which was objectively foolish.
It had been right for her. Tenn was her person.
But Adam had been Emma’s person.
Did anyone get two in one lifetime? She had no idea. Just finding one was rare enough.
“You’re her cousin, right?” Keith asked uncertainly.
“Basically. Her husband was my cousin. Adam.”
“And he’s… How long ago did he—“
“Less than a year. He burned to death in a forest fire.”
Keith cursed, muffling the words with one hand over his mouth.
“It was horrific,” she said gravely. “Emma and Adam were highschool sweethearts. He was her whole world. So no, she’s not okay. She’s doing brilliantly, all things considered. But I think that she’s still more fragile than she realizes.”
Keith nodded, watching the Kealoha house with a thoughtful expression.
“Adam grew up here,” Lani told him.
“Here in Pualena?”
“Here in this house.”
He looked at her in surprise, and she turned to regard the ruined jaboticaba sapling.
“There was no body to recover when Adam died. He was a firefighter, and he went deep into the woods trying to reach an old couple who lived up the side of the mountain. But the wind changed direction, and the fire jumped around behind him. There was no way out. A fire that size, it obliterates everything. The firefighters gave Emma some ashes. She buried them under this tree.”
Keith cursed quietly as he bent to examine the broken tree.
“Maybe we can get her another jaboticaba,” Lani suggested. “It was Adam’s favorite.”
He nodded, still examining what was left of the trunk.
Lani sighed heavily, looking at the tiny stump that remained. Maybe it would sprout again. Tropical plants were resilient that way. Cut them to pieces, and each piece would sprout anew. You could cut down a whole tree, and it would just send shoots up again.
“I’m going to go check on her,” Lani said.
She wasn’t sure about leaving this stranger in the front yard — but if Emma trusted Keith to come around the kids, she supposed that had to be enough for her.
Lani had a hard time trusting men at all anymore. She didn’t feel truly comfortable around any man besides Tenn and her family, but that was her own baggage.
“I’ll keep working out here, if that’s alright.” Keith stood and surveyed the mess of fallen branches and broken plants in the front yard.
Lani shrugged. If he wanted to work for free, she wasn’t going to stop him. Lord knew Emma had enough to deal with.
Kai was alone in the kitchen, eating yogurt out of a jar and listening to an audiobook. Lani ruffled his hair and then headed upstairs in search of Emma.
She found her under a stack of quilts, old ones that had come with the house. The top one had been made by Lani’s grandmother, and it made her smile to see it again. She sat down on the edge of the bed and put a hand on Emma’s back. “Hey. It’s me.”
Emma poked her head out of the quilts. Her face was red and puffy from crying.
“I miss him too,” Lani said simply.
Emma shifted to one side and lifted the quilts.
Lani climbed in beside her. They were quiet for a while, looking out the window. Mrs. Rasmussen was busy in her garden next door.
“Remember when we hiked past Waipeo?” Emma asked in a ragged voice. “We went and camped in the next valley.”
“I was only fourteen, but you two let me tag along.” Suddenly Lani was fighting tears too. “He always let me tag along.”
“He loved you like a little sister. More, maybe, since you never had to share a bathroom.” Emma tried to laugh, but she was still so raw that it sounded more like a sob. Lani knew that Emma’s relationship with her own brother had been strained lately.
“He carried my pack,” she recalled. “I couldn’t keep up, so he tied my pack to his and carried it for hours.”
“I remember,” Emma said quietly, resting her head on Lani’s shoulder.
“It kills me that I didn’t get more time with him, that I stayed stuck in Alaska for so long.”
“He liked to knit. Did you know that?”
“You’re kidding.”
Emma shook her head and smiled. “We took a class together a couple years ago. He had everyone at the station knitting before long.”
“Typical,” Lani let out a huff of breath that approached a laugh. “Did you know that he loved to quilt when we were kids?”
“Really?”
“Look.” Lani traced a clumsy line of stitches on the quilt that sheltered them. “He used to sit and help our grandma.”
More tears fell down Emma’s cheeks as her fingertips followed the same line. “I didn’t know that.”
“On rainy days, mostly. I didn’t have the patience for it, so I’d usually be playing with dolls on the floor or something. But he would sit there with her for hours, listening to her stories and helping her sew.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Emma said, still tracing the stitches that her husband had made decades before. “It’s like he’s still with us. The nails he put into this house, the trees he planted with his dad. His family, the stories you all have. It’s as close to him as we can get.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” Lani scooted closer and twined her arm with Emma’s.
“Me too,” she said in a broken voice.
They lay there for a long time, remembering.