Chapter 26

 

~ ANNIE ~

 

 

Looking back, I’m not sure what I expected.

I remind myself this as I take in a lungful of ocean air and step closer to the water, letting the incoming wave bury my feet. It should soothe me, like it always did before. But this time, it doesn’t.

Cam’s made it pretty clear he’s not looking for forever from me or anyone. And seeing as I’d always seen my life continuing on the East Coast one day, I was fine with it.

But now, with the ocean drawing me near again like it always does, I’m not fine with it at all.

My present mood contradicts the way I should be feeling right now. Kaila and I just finished our first official job together as new business owners, and she’s already feeling confident enough to talk about cutting back on her hours at the Queen K. I should feel confident, too, with a sizable check in my pocket, and an appointment at a local bank to talk to them about opening up an account for our business. Thanks to Cam, I’ll even be able to tell them my name—my full name—without my heart seizing up in my chest.

Pressing my eyes shut, I let the cool breeze flow over me and try to picture myself back in D.C. again in a matter of months, trying to embrace the goals that I once had. I pretend I’m there for a moment, standing at the National Mall with the striking architecture and monuments around me, feeling the pulse of the city. Or walking through one of its many top-ranking college campuses, like Georgetown or George Washington or American, and soaking up their intellectual vibe and endless opportunities.

I even try picturing myself standing at the carpool line at the famed private school where I’d once longed to work—helping the kids into their awaiting minivans and SUVs. I imagine their chatter after a full day, and their heads brimming with new knowledge and dreams for their future.

But I don’t feel a part of the scenes that I paint in my mind. Not anymore. So when the next wave strikes my calves a brief moment later, I open my eyes.

The sun is making its slow path toward the horizon and the usual mix of tourists, locals, and malihini like me has gathered at A-Bay.

It’s better with someone you love at your side though, I consider, my thoughts drifting to Cam again. This evening, I can’t help remembering when I saw him here that night we had dinner at the Dancing Coconut—and that feeling of being held by him for the first time when a rogue wave had nudged me into his grasp.

My eyes track along the water toward the horizon. No breach awaits me, but I do see two whale spouts—such a sight with the looming profile of Maui in the distance across the ‘Alenuihaha Channel.

“Whales!” I shout, right along with a couple other people near me. A family—their pale skin revealing their tourist status—glances in my direction. I point out the spouts for them, rewarded by gasps from their kids who look to be young teenagers—that age when they don’t even want to be with their parents. But at this moment, with the spectacle of Mother Nature putting on a show for us, they don’t seem to mind.

Ohana, I can’t help thinking as my sights move from them to the many others who share this view with me tonight.

Family. I didn’t need Kaila to teach me the Hawaiian word for it. Ohana is one of the first ones you pick up here because it means something deeper than just a label you give to those who share your bloodline.

It’s the bond that inspires a guy like Cam to take in the child of someone who doesn’t even share his name. It’s that pull that allows us to enjoy a sunset with complete strangers without diminishing the perfection of the moment. It’s the compelling urge to shout when a whale surfaces because you desperately need to share the beauty of it with others.

This island gave me that sense of ohana when I needed it. It gave me sanctuary. And I don’t want to be one who just accepts its healing powers and leaves. I want to give back something in return.

An idea stirs inside me until I pull my phone from my back pocket and dial Kaila.

“You just can’t get enough of me, can you?” her voice teases when she answers since we just parted ways less than an hour ago.

“I guess not. Any new jobs in?”

“One for Tuesday,” she answers.

My eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yep. I was just about to call you.”

I shake my head to clear it, not letting myself get distracted by our apparent success. “Listen, I had a thought just now. And I want you to give me your honest opinion on it.”

“You know I will.”

Yes, I know she will. Which is why I like being her friend now so damn much. “Okay, so you know how all these resorts pay next to nothing.”

“I’ve got the scant paycheck to prove it,” Kaila answers.

“Right. Now imagine if you had kids.” As my idea formulates fully, my thoughts flit back to the security officer at the Queen K I met on my last day of work there. I never heard from him; he struck me as someone with too much pride to take me up on my offer of free babysitting for his kids. “You’re making less than you’d probably pay in child care,” I point out to Kaila.

“Sure,” Kaila answers. “Tourists are the only ones on this island who’ll be able to afford babysitters like us.”

“And don’t you hate that?”

“Well, yeah. But I’ve got bills to pay. You know?”

“Right. Me, too. But what if we tried to start some kind of babysitting co-op on the side for residents.”

“A what?”

“A co-op,” I say again. “You know, like maybe you could talk to some of your friends who work at other resorts and get them in on it with us. Then we could see if one of the community centers down in Kona or up in Waimea would give us some space. If we had a bunch of people like us who could volunteer some time, we could stagger our hours so that we can cover a shift or two for residents who wouldn’t be able to afford child care otherwise.”

“And you want to do this… while we’re just starting up a business?” She draws the question out a beat or two as though her brain is still wrapping around the idea.

I feel the warmth of the sun’s rays on me as it drifts lower in the sky and I swear I feel empowered by it—stronger, like I could find the energy right now to do anything. “Yeah. I do. I want to at least try.”

Kaila laughs. “Look who swallowed a rainbow.”

“Oh, shut up. Do you hate the idea or something?”

“Hell no. I love it. We could start small, like just a few hours after school lets out, and see how it goes.” She pauses a moment. “But you’re sounding less and less like a malihini. Makes me wonder if you have any plans of leaving us when that new job on the mainland opens up.”

My gaze drifts slowly out to the horizon again. “Kaila, I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”

When I close the conversation with her a few minutes later, I tap a text into Sam.

“How would you feel about visiting me on the Big Island?” I tap in. “Because I think I’m meant to stay here.” I bite my lip after I hit send, remembering that it’s late there, and my text might wake her.

So I’m all the more grateful when her immediate reply doesn’t include a rebuke. Instead, it reads simply, “About time you figured that out.”

The bottom tip of the sun has just touched the blue horizon. I find myself wading deeper into the water, drawn to its beauty.

Calf-deep in the water now, I slide my phone into my back pocket, resisting the urge to send a similar text to Cam.

 How would he react, I wonder? Would it put too much pressure on him to tell him I’m sticking around?

“Annie.”

With Cam in the forefront of my mind, I almost think the voice is one that I conjured up in my imagination. But then I feel my spine tingle at his presence, and I turn. The sight of him is a salve to me, healing to my soul.

Wordless, I smile—just as a wave smacks me in the back of my thighs. I lunge forward to protect the phone in my pocket, then stumble into his arms.

“Haven’t I told you before not to turn your back on the ocean?” he chuckles, pulling me upward as the water recedes.

“Maybe you should stop sneaking up on me.”

“I’m a Ranger. I specialize in sneak attacks.” And as though to confirm that statement, he bends over and presses his lips to mine. There’s nothing tentative in his kiss and I savor the feel of it until he pulls back. “Like that one.”

“I think I like that kind of sneak attack,” I tell him breathlessly as he guides me a few feet away from the reach of the water. “How did you know I was here?”

“You told me once you always like to come here for sunset. I remember that, you know. I remember everything you say to me.”

“That so?”

“Yeah. Like how you said you weren’t looking to stick around here. You didn’t want something permanent. From Hawaii. Or from me.”

My stomach curls into a tiny ball in the pit of my gut. I don’t like hearing it. I don’t like that I said it and meant every word at the time, and have now completely done a 180. I’m a traitor to myself.

“Makes us a good pair,” I say cautiously.

“Yeah.”

His brief reply makes my heart sink and my eyes stray from his, seeking the comfort of the setting sun.

“Yeah, it did,” he continues, the past tense making my gaze dart to him again. “I didn’t think I was capable of commitment anymore. But I look at my life, and I was dead wrong. I commit all the time, to my family, to my country, to the Rangers, to Stella. And I’m committed to you, Annie.”

My breath sucks inwardly. “What?”

“I mean, I’m committed to you. I love you. And it doesn’t even matter to me whether or not you feel the same way right now. It just is. And whether you leave tomorrow or next year or never, that commitment is going to stay.”

I give my head a bewildered shake. “What did you say?”

“That I’m committed to you.”

 “No. The other thing. The—” I don’t dare repeat it.

“The love thing?” he asks, offering me a wide grin. “I love you, Annie Bradshaw. I love you. And even if you leave and go back East, you’re still going to keep hearing me say that because I didn’t survive an IED blast just to let a few thousand miles between us scare me away.”

Chills sweep over me and I struggle for my next breath. I feel it all—the sand between my toes, the warmth from the sun, the salty breeze tickling my skin. But despite it all, I’m not convinced of this reality until I feel his grasp on my arms steady me as my stance falters.

“I love you, Annie,” I hear him say again.

I’m breathless, almost dizzy from it, but I manage to get out the words, “I love you too, Cam.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” A laugh escapes me. “Yes, I do. Of course I do. I—I didn’t think you’d want to hear it. I didn’t think—”

He silences me with a kiss I feel down to the tips of sand-buried toes, a kiss that heats me to my core and claims my soul.

He loves me. I revel in the knowledge of it as I taste him, as I feel the warmth of his embrace and know that this sensation inside of me is something that will last.

“Whale!” I hear a tourist cry out near us. But I don’t turn to see it. Not because I’m jaded to the beauty that surrounds me, the constant miracles that reveal themselves here in paradise.

I don’t turn because I know that I’ll see it again some other time.

Because as Cam lifts me off the ground and carries me to a soft place in the sand without letting his lips leave mine, I know I’m not going anywhere.

I’m home.