Heat Wave (31 page)

“I’m afraid that’s all I got,” he says, slipping on his shades and flashing me a wicked grin. Even though the sun will be going down in an hour, there’s still enough light to make everything soft and bright. It’s my favorite time of day, the lazy winding down toward dusk, and I put down the window to catch the smells of the taro fields and Hanalei River as we pass by, stand-up paddle boarders cruising down it and getting in one last jaunt before night.

The restaurant we go to is down on the east side, the coconut coast as they call it, just south of Kapa’a with the most gorgeous view of the beach and ocean. It puts the Ohana Lounge to shame.

We’re seated at a private table, located closest to the shore, framed by wavering tiki torches. Even though it’s the east coast, the sunset here doesn’t fail to be spectacular, the sky slowly turning cotton candy pink and lush coral, the waves reflecting the metallic pastels.

And then, just after we place our order with the waiter, it happens.

“Look,” Logan cries out softly, grabbing my hand. I follow his gaze to the horizon where the water looks foamy, just in time to see a massive humpback whale breech clear out of the water.

Oh my god.

The whale lands with a heavy splash, so close we can hear it from where we are. The water explodes around it like someone dropped a bomb and sprays for what seems like ever, just as two other whales appear, spouting as they get breath from the surface.

Now everyone in the restaurant is noticing, some of them clapping, others taking pictures.

But for me, it’s just Logan’s hand in mine as we watch one of the most spectacular sights I’ve ever seen. We barely notice the drinks as they arrive, or our poke chips appetizer, and for the next twenty-minutes as the sky darkens from rose gold to purple to navy blue and the last splashes of the whales disappear, I’m enthralled, so much so that my heart feels like it’s being stirred until my chest is heavy with a million different emotions.

“Ron,” Logan whispers to me, squeezing my hand. “What’s wrong?”

I look at him and try to smile and it’s only then that I realize that I’m crying. I quickly wipe away the tear, trying to wrestle with everything inside.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, raising my hand up to kiss the back of it, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’ve got you.”

And I know he does. That’s why it’s all so much to handle.

I take in a deep, shaking breath, and try to explain. “One of my best memories of Juliet was when she was ten years old and wanted to be a marine biologist. She was so obsessed with the whales, especially the humpbacks, and I become obsessed too. Because I wanted to be like her. And for a short time, she liked that. We finally had something in common.” My throat is thick as I try to swallow. “She of course moved on and forgot about it and went onto something else and we never had that connection again. But then I see the dolphin doormat at your house and the pictures of whales in the bathroom, and the wood carvings of them in the backyard and I know that was all her doing…she still loved them.”

He nods slowly, his own eyes looking wet. “She did. She loved to collect them. And she would get just as excited about them as you did right now.”

“So I just…we saw these whales, like they were meant for us, you know? And I wonder in some ways if that’s…her? I know it sounds dumb but…I feel like maybe she knows about us. About this. And maybe this is her way of saying she’s okay.” Another tear falls from my eyes, darkening the top of my dress. “Maybe she even approves.”

Logan squeezes my hand harder. “
Aumakua
,” he says quietly. I sniff and give him a curious look. “Hawaiians believe that when someone passes on, their spirit can live on as an
aumakua
, or guardian. Johnny would be the first to tell you that what you felt was Juliet in the form of that whale.”

“And you? Did you feel anything?”

He gives me a kind smile. “I feel Juliet all the time around me. It’s neither good or bad. She’s just there, maybe in that dolphin doormat or the curtains she picked out for the hotel rooms or when a certain song comes on. She’s never going anywhere, Ron, and that’s a good thing. If you felt that was her in those whales out there, then I’m sure it was her. This island is a magical place and I’ve seen some pretty special things happen here. You feel it in the air, in the ocean, in every sunset and sunrise. But more than that…I think this is a sign for us to stop being afraid.”

I rub my lips together, taking in a deep breath. “I’m not afraid,” I tell him.

“You are,” he says. “And that’s okay. I’m afraid too. Deep down. About what the world will say. But in the end, it’s not going to matter. The only thing that matters is us. I don’t want to hide us anymore. Veronica, I want you. I want all of you. All the time, every day, until the end. I want to tell the world just how much you mean to me because you are my world.”

I’m melting from the inside out. I always though Logan would be the one to make me shatter, but that’s not the case at all. It’s less violent than that. I’m liquefied, I’m reduced, I’m shedding every ounce of hardness I have, that plaster cast, the hard shell, it’s sloughing off until there’s nothing left but my heart, beating and exposed and all for him.

“Veronica,” he says, adding a nervous smile, “Ronnie. Freckles. I am one-hundred-percent, madly, endlessly, hopelessly in love with you.”

And there I go.

Veronica Locke has lost her heart.

Last seen in a puddle on the floor.

Now suspected in this man’s hands.

I can barely fucking breathe.

He loves me.

He loves me.

I try and speak. I try and get the words out. I know that the tears are coming to my eyes again, that I’m smiling so broadly I think my face is cracking open. I know this world is stop motion, slow motion, that the planet might actually be spinning backward. I wouldn’t notice.

And Logan, this beautiful, amazing man, has my heart.

He has all of me.

“I love you,” I whisper, choking on my words. “I love you.”

His smile lights up the darkness, fuels my spirit. He leans across the table, grabbing my face in his hands and kisses me until I’m reeling, breathless, wild.

“Ahem.”

We break apart, grinning like fools, to see the waiter standing by us with our main courses.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says.

I barely hear him, and even though our food, grilled mahi mahi and wahoo, looks amazing, I’ve lost my appetite. I can’t think of anything right now but Logan, I don’t want to have anything else but him and his beautiful words.

He loves me, he loves me, he loves me.

To be honest, I’ve never had those words spoken to me before. I never knew what it would feel like to hear them, and only imagined how good it could be. But now that Logan’s told me he loves me, now that I’ve told him, I know my imagination never even came close to this gorgeous reality.

I’m flying.

Logan has a dashing smile on his face, one of awe and wonder, and pushes the food around on his plate. “Honestly, and I’m not just saying this because you’re here, but food never tastes good unless you’re cooking it. Did you want to get these to go and get out of here? I don’t think I can eat right now. Not this, anyway.”

“Yes,” I say emphatically. I want go back to his place and fall into bed with him and never leave. I want him inside me while he says those words, I want to feel what it’s like to make love while being in love.

The waiter doesn’t seem all that surprised. I down the rest of my lychee martini and soon we’re in his Jeep, heading up the highway, until Logan quickly stops by the Foodland grocery store and picks up two floral leis.

“The plumeria is for you,” he says. “The hibiscus is for Juliet.”

“Juliet?” I think to her marker on the side of the road. “You’re the one who leaves the flowers for her?” My heart pinches at the thought, both for him being so thoughtful and for him being so invested still.

“I try to,” he says. “But other people do too. I think someone at Moonwater does, maybe Johnny. And I think that prick she was sleeping with does too.”

“I guess that makes him less of a prick though,” I point out.

“Yeah, I know,” he says, adjusting his hands on the steering wheel. “Believe me, it doesn’t hurt to think about the two of them together, more a blow to the pride than anything, and I’m used to that.” He glances at me, his eyes glinting in the passing streetlights. “Did I tell you I went to his house once.”

“What?”

“Yeah. A few months after Juliet’s accident. I went over there looking to kill him and…well, it didn’t turn out that way. I told him what happened and he was wrecked. Not quite in the same way I was wrecked, but at least I realized it wasn’t just a fling between the two of them. He had feelings for her and he was sorry. His apology didn’t change anything but he was sorry.”

“Wow,” I say. “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”

He sighs heavily. “It wasn’t easy. But it had to be done. And it made me realize some things. Though the guy was sorry, he was still a dickhead. I mean, an absolute wanker. Not so much in the sense that he was a vile homewrecker, which he was, but just in his personality. And, to be honest, he was better suited to Juliet than I was. He was a lawyer. He was ambitious. He had all the makings of someone who wanted to climb to the top and would do anything to stay there, and Juliet was like that too.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What I mean is, I finally saw why she and I never worked out. And now I see why you and I do. We’re far more alike than you would guess. That’s what I first saw in you.” He glances at me, frowning. “I know I told you that my mother couldn’t come to our wedding because of her illnesses. Well that’s not exactly true. My mother does have some problems but the reality is…she’s a horrible human being.”

My eyes widen.

He goes on. “I know it sounds bloody awful for me to say that but it’s the truth. And I only had her growing up. My dad left us when I was young, I barely have memories of him, though the memories I do have aren’t bad. At least there was some love there, but my dad got caught up with gambling and that did him in. And I’m sure my own mother didn’t help either.”

“What did she do?” I ask quietly.

“It’s more like what she didn’t do. Which, to put it bluntly, was to fucking love us. But compared to you and Juliet, it was different. Both Kit and I got the shit end of the stick. My mother would sit around all day in her bloody chair, smoking packs of cigarettes until her ashtray was piled high, and she’d make us cook and clean and do everything for her. If we did it, we didn’t get harassed. If we didn’t do it, she would go out of her way to make sure our lives were a living hell. My brother and I got nothing. Of course back then, we were growing up rural and this seemed to be the norm. Emotional abuse was never talked about and lack of love was something that was swept under the rug. My mom worked her job at the bank and when she wasn’t there, she was terrorizing us and we thought that’s how life was supposed to be. Loveless and full of fear.”

I had no idea at all it was like this for Logan. I knew he was reluctant to talk about his mother, but I thought it was because he had nothing to say about her or just didn’t want to seem like a dick when I had my own mother to complain about. Instead, his mom sounds worse than mine.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I wish you told me this sooner.

“I should have. I don’t know why I didn’t. ” He shrugs. “And the crazy thing is, I grew up still wanting her approval. It’s no wonder that Kit ended up in the outback up north, far away from where we grew up, and I ended up all the way over here.” He looks at me, a softness coming over his eyes. “And so when I met you, I knew. I knew you’d come from a similar place. Your mother can be pretty awful, I’ll give you that much, but thankfully you never had to do what we had to do. Even so, I recognized them as the same. Sometimes I think I fell for Juliet because I saw it as another way to prove myself, even though it was to your mother and not mine. How fucked up is that?”

He exhales heavily through his nose, staring out at the headlights on the road. “Anyway, seeing that wanker that Juliet was with made me realize that we’ve all got our own people. Somewhere out there there’s someone who is part of your tribe, who belongs to you, who should be with you. You have always been my people, Veronica. From the moment we first met till now, through all of those years where we were both lost and stolen. You’re mine as much as I’m yours. And I swear nothing, nothing, is ever going to change that for us. You will always belong in my heart. It’s your home.”

My chest is expanding with a joy so acute, I’m not sure how to handle it, where the feeling should go. I’m just drowning in it, taking in his words instead of air, until it’s everything I am and all that I’ll need.

“If you’ll belong to my heart,” I tell him breathlessly, reaching across and tracing my fingers along his ear, his cheekbones, down the length of his beard to his chin. “I know you always have.”

What a bunch of fucking saps we are. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

On the way back to Moonwater we stop by Juliet’s marker, the scene of the crash, taking great care as we park on the side of the road. We don’t have time for a vigil or even a few words – it’s a narrow, dangerous spot and you have to make it quick. But the two of us get out, hand in hand, and run over, laying down the lei, the headlights from the Jeep illuminating us. A soft rain is starting to fall.