Chapter Twenty-Five
Reese
Ihad spent enough Christmases in warm climates to know I preferred the traditional cold.
I loved the bite of the wind and how a good hot cocoa could chase it away.
To me, the snow-dusted pines seemed far more appealing than the palm trees with their string lights.
Because of the warm climate, I had low expectations that it would feel like Christmas today, but I was excited to spend time with people who felt more like family than my actual family.
I wanted to relax and enjoy myself, but I felt on edge today.
My contract was ending in about a month, and I didn’t know what to do.
I had asked again to extend my contract, but the hospital told me they no longer needed any travelers.
Instead, I was offered a full-time staff position and had until the first of the year to decide.
I wanted to talk this over with Kelly, but every time I tried, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
My hands would clam up, and my voice would shrink away.
When he asked me a few nights ago if I was going to renew my contract, I told him part of the truth—that they weren’t offering any extensions, but had chickened out and left out the permanent staff job.
I could tell he wanted to discuss it more, but he didn’t push.
But today was Christmas, and I was going to be brave. I would tell him about the staff position, and we would figure it out.
“Kelly,” Beth’s voice sounded from the back of the truck, “how many family members do you have?”
“Too many.” He laughed, his pinky grazing mine as he shifted gears. “It will only be my immediate family today. I have fifty-two first cousins alone, so the main house would never be able to accommodate them.”
“Holy shit!” Beth barked out loud. “That’s a lot of fucking people.” I had gotten used to her cussing in our short time together. “Are you sure it’s okay that I only brought wine?” She seemed nervous as she clutched the bottle of chardonnay in her hands.
“The wine will be plenty enough.” He smiled easily.
“Is there anything I should be prepared for?” Beth asked.
“It’ll be loud with all my nieces and nephews there. Oh, and if you forget a name, you can call them 'keiki' or 'kiddo'. And anyone older than you is Auntie or Uncle.”
“Hey!” I playfully slapped Kelly across the chest. “Why didn’t I get a debrief?”
“Ya’ never asked.” He winked at me.
We parked slightly down the road from the Iona residence. Beth struggled to walk up the path in her high heels and seemed relieved when we deposited our shoes by the front door.
Kelly took hold of my free hand, the other one holding on to the plate of cookies we’d made, and guided us into the home, Beth following behind.
I had been to Rockefeller Square, stayed in a Bavarian village in Wisconsin, and even seen real reindeer during my time in Maine. But none of those things could touch the magic that was the Iona house.
Have you ever stepped into a place and felt completely at home? I’d been to this house a few dozen times now, but it had never captured me the way it did that day.
Garlands and tinsel decorated the living room. The tree occupied most of the space; an angel reached the ceiling, and ornaments from previous years covered it. The lights were soft white, casting an enchanting glow over the room. Presents with shiny bows filled the bottom of the tree.
Soft classical Christmas music played from the TV, and the house smelled like a mix of sweets and pine.
The fact that the Iona family didn’t have a fireplace didn’t seem to stop them.
There were cherry red stockings that stretched from one corner to the next above the couch, each with a family member’s name.
They matched with gold, intricate designs hand-stitched into them.
In the middle of the stockings, I was surprised to spot my name between Kelly’s and Beth’s. Tears pricked my vision at the sight of our names included in their family.
“Does that stocking have my name on it?” Beth walked closer to inspect, tears falling freely from her eyes as her fingers pressed into the gold stitching.
“What do you think of my handiwork?” Tutu appeared by our sides, wearing a red and green Christmas sweater with a cat playing a harp.
“Oh, Tutu,” my voice broke a little, “they are amazing.” I moved away from Kelly to embrace his tiny grandma. She hugged me back with more strength than I would have thought possible for such a small lady.
Beth approached us, still teary, and said, “I am so honored you thought of me.”
“You are Ohana to our Reese, so you are Ohana to me now.” Tutu smiled, opening her arms up. Beth stepped forward, fitting perfectly into her arms. A small whimper escaped her. “Shush now, child. Today is a joyous day. Come, look at the symbol I stitched for you.”
I looked closer and saw that Beth’s stocking had a hibiscus flower sewn in.
“What does it mean?” I asked.
“Hibiscus can grow even in harsh conditions. They maintain their beauty while they endure the surrounding storm. You, my child,” Tutu turned to Beth, “will learn how strong you can be.”
“That’s beautiful,” Beth cried slightly harder.
I looked at my stocking, tracing my fingers over the design Tutu had picked.
And you, my Reese, I gave you the ‘Hawaiian Hearts.’ Hearts mean more than just love. They are the true symbol of community and connection. You are the bond that keeps people together.
“Thank you,” I said, but I knew in my own heart that it wasn’t true. I wasn’t a bond that held people together. I was the one who was easily thrown away.
“And my Kelly,” she moved over to his, “has the turtle. Turtles are resilient and wise. They might travel away from time to time, but they always know their way home and are loyal to those they love.”
“Okay, Tutu. That’s enough fairytales for one holiday,” Kelly said playfully, as if he had heard these stories a hundred times. “I see you have your purse. Where are you headed?"
“Wendy is picking me up. We have a gig,” she said.
Beth and I looked at each other, confused.
“Tutu is in a jazz band with some other...elders,” Kelly scratched the back of his neck.
“That’s just a nicer way of saying old farts. That’s okay, we are old. But we sure as hell can outplay any youngins, and don’t you forget it,” she said, her accent was a little thicker this time.
“Alright, how long will you be gone?” Kelly asked.
“Only a few hours. We are playing for the lovely residents of Kapolei’s Retirement Community Center. I will see you three in a bit,” she said as she boogied her way out the front door.
“Holy shit, Kelly. Your grandma is amazing!” Beth exclaimed, her eyes still watering.
“No bad words!” Malia yelled.
Beth covered her mouth in embarrassment.
A large herd of nephews and nieces swarmed in, wrapping all of us, including Beth, in hugs. I was worried she might feel uncomfortable around strangers, but Beth's natural friendliness shone through as she easily fit into any new environment.
“Uncle Kelly,” one of Kekoa’s sons said. I couldn’t remember his name, but he couldn’t have been older than five or six. “Come check out the new soccer ball I got. Kai has been scoring on me all day.” He tugged on Kelly, pulling him toward the back of the house.
Beth linked arms with me as we made our way into the kitchen, where Lilly and Kalani were cooking up a frenzy.
“Aloha!” I called as we entered, putting the cookies we’d made down on the only counter space I could find.
The counters were filled with bowls of fresh grapes, pineapple, mangos, pomegranates, and watermelon. There were rows of mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, dinner rolls, trays of crackers and cheese, and an abundance of olives.
One table alone held every Christmas dessert I had ever seen on Pinterest. It featured a variety of cookies, brownies, mini cakes, cream pies, and what appeared to be some kind of tropical monkey bread.
And then there were the meats: two different spiral hams, a prime rib, what looked like a white fish, and shrimp. Lilly and Kalani were carving a turkey together, both wearing identical, red Santa aprons.
Lilly looked up from the feast. “Reese! Aloha!”
Kalani put the knife down, clearly satisfied with her work, before looking up and offering a warm smile.
“Hello, honey. You must be Beth,” Kalani waved.
“That’s me. How can we help?” Beth asked.
“I’ll have you grab the keiki plates, and we’ll get them dished up,” Kalani said.
I walked over to Lilly, and she pressed her forehead to mine.
“Mele kalikimaka,” she sang.
“Merry Christmas. Your house looks amazing,” I said.
Lilly pulled away as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Thank you. I have always loved Christmas, and this time of year always reminds me of how grateful I am that we can still live here.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
We rented this house until two years ago.
The owners told us they planned to sell, and we couldn’t afford to buy it,” she explained as she went back to fuss over the turkey.
“It’s hard to find housing around here, and we were going to have to move away from the community we built here.
But then Kelly stepped up. Without telling any of us, he bought this house so we could keep living here.
I felt my mouth go dry as her words hit me.
“Without Kelly, none of us would be here in this house we have loved for over thirty years. And now, no one can take it away from us,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.
“I didn’t know that,” I said. Kelly had never mentioned that before. “That’s really amazing.”
“Kelly is one of a kind, my dear.” She dusted her hands on her apron again. “You can round everyone up because we are ready!” Lilly sang.
After hours of stuffing our faces, Tutu finally returned with a few band members in tow. I adored how inviting the Iona family was. They welcomed everyone warmly, and there was always enough to go around.
Finally, it was time for the family to exchange Christmas gifts. Kelly told me that because they had so many people, they picked names out of a hat to exchange gifts. Otherwise, it would be very expensive and take all day.
I begged Kelly not to put my name in the hat. I didn’t need any presents, and I was notoriously picky. He promised he wouldn’t, as long as I didn’t go out and buy everyone a gift. I reluctantly promised while deleting the list I had begun.
Beth, Kelly, and I squeezed into a corner of the living room as the gift-giving began. To make room for everyone, I was forced to sit in Kelly’s lap, not that I minded.
I smiled widely as we watched child after child laugh with glee as they opened their presents.
Kelly received a new surf brand T-shirt from one of the twins.
He watched eagerly as Kalani’s youngest, Hazel, got help to open the teethers Kelly and I had found together.
She immediately mouthed it and refused to let go.
I felt happy and light with Kelly’s arms around me. I felt safe.
After the chaos was done, everyone dispersed throughout the house, and I headed for a much-needed bathroom break.
I was washing my hands when I looked up at my reflection.
I looked almost completely different from the person I was when I first arrived in Hawaii.
My hair had grown longer, and I now had natural highlights from my time in the sun.
My face was slightly rounder than it had been.
I’d been very active during my time off, but instead of spending hours running alone, I was now being fed by a man who loved to cook.
I had gained a little love weight, and I’d never felt more confident in my body.
I looked happy. I was happy, for maybe the first time in a long time. I smiled back at myself before heading back out.
I found Kelly waiting for me just down the hallway. “Do you want to take a walk?” Kelly asked, almost shyly.
“I’d love to.” I intertwined our fingers together.
We made our way to the front door and then strolled down the steps to the sidewalk.
“Where to?” I asked.
“I know the perfect place.” He gave my hand a firm squeeze.
We walked in a comfortable silence, stealing glances at each other as if we couldn’t believe the other was really there.
Kelly led me up the hill from his parents' house until we reached a grassy plateau.
We stepped through the tall grass, with the evening sun warming my skin and a gentle breeze sending goosebumps up my arms.
“There,” Kelly pointed, and I followed his finger.
In front of us, the hill sprawled out with houses sprinkled on the side of it. You could see the very edge of the ocean as it met the shore. The golden hour bounced off the waves, and I swear I could almost hear it.
“It’s beautiful.” I glanced at Kelly, but he was already looking at me.
“This used to be one of my favorite spots as a kid to run away to. When I was angry, sad, or overwhelmed, I would come here and watch the waves," he breathed deeply.
I didn’t know what to say. How could I tell him how special this all felt to me?
But I didn’t need to. He gripped my hand and gave me a spin before bringing me in close, my face resting on the top of his shoulder as we started to sway.
We danced for a moment with no music, just the sound of the light breeze and our hearts beating loudly into each other.
“I have a confession to make,” he whispered nervously into my ear.
“And what would that be?” I asked.
“I may have gotten you a present.”
I pulled back and wacked him slightly on the chest. “Kelly! We said no presents!”
“No, I said you couldn’t buy presents and that I wouldn’t put your name into the hat. You never said I couldn’t buy you a little something,” he smiled coyly.
“You sneaky bastard,” I said, smiling.
“I think Beth’s sailor mouth is wearing off on you,” he joked. “Anyway, it’s nothing big.”
He pulled out a small, black square box from his pocket.
My heart paused for a moment until I realized it was too big to be a ring box.
I carefully took the box in my hands and opened it.
Inside was a delicate silver bracelet. In the center was a small silver heart connected to the fin of a silver sea turtle.
It was Kelly and me.
“Do you like it?” he asked sheepishly. “I just wanted something to remind you of your time here in Hawaii. A piece of me that you can always have with you.”
“I love it,” I said, and I meant it. He unclasped it as I held out my left wrist. It was a perfect fit. “Thank you,” I said, reaching up to place a soft kiss on his lips.
He pulled me in, deepening the kiss.
This was the moment I should have told him about the staff position. The clock was ticking, and I needed to talk through my fears. But the words wouldn’t escape my mouth. I couldn’t ruin the best Christmas I’d ever had.