Read Online I'm Kona Love You Forever (Islands of Aloha Mystery Series Book 6) by JoAnn Bassett - Free Book Online
Authors: JoAnn Bassett
Ads: Link
“You’ve been doing your job too long, Pali. You’re confusing romance with real life. Do either of these kids have a job? A place to live? An education? It’s not like you to get teary-eyed over puppy love.”
“I know. You’re probably right. It’s just there’s something about these two that makes me want to help them. Silly as it sounds, I think this is a solid relationship. One that will last.”
“If it’s r eal, they’ll be able to keep their shorts on a little longer. And if it isn’t, you’ll be saving them from a big mistake if you stay out of it.”
***
At nine o’clock that morning a stranger showed up at my shop door. I looked out the window and saw a girl with short brown hair styled in a pixie cut, a bright smile, and a flawless complexion. Her brown eyes sparkled with anticipation.
I love that look. It’s the glow brides radiate from the first day of their engagement until about a week before their wedding. Around a week prior to the event most of them trade the glow for a deer-in-the-headlights look. Of course, I wouldn’t exactly know what a deer looks like as it faces down an on-coming car since we don’t have deer on Maui. In fact, we don’t have much of anything in the way of forest mammals except an occasional wild boar. But from what I’ve heard, deer are masters at looking terrified. And so are only-a-week-away brides.
“Hi, Pali,” the girl said. “Open up; it’s me.” The voice was familiar. Kaili’s mainland accent.
“Wow, I hardly recognized you,” I said as I unlocked the door to let her in. Truth was , I hadn’t recognized her at all. But I wasn’t willing to cop to being so clueless.
“Aunt Lani helped me with my hair. You like it?”
“It looks great. And here’s another lesson in ‘blending.’ Here in Hawaii we refer to our aunts as our ‘aunties.’ It’s just the way we say it. In fact, we call any older woman we like ‘auntie’ as well.”
“Should I call you ‘auntie’?”
“Don’t push it, sweetie. I said an ‘ older woman.’ I’m talking about someone you can tell is at least fifteen to twenty years older than you.”
She rai sed her eyebrows as if to say, “ and your point is…”
“Anyway,” I went on. “Calling a woman ‘auntie’ shows you like her and you think of her as ‘ohana .”
“What’s ‘ohana ? I remember your friend Keahou used that word.”
“It means ‘family.’ You’ll see it everywhere. It’s a big deal in Hawaii. Nothing’s more important than family.”
“Not at my house.”
“Oh?”
“My mom and dad got divorced and I don’t have any brothers or sisters—well, not any real ones anyway. My mom moved us over here so she wouldn’t have to deal with my dad and my dad’s new wife. So I guess my ‘ohana is kinda sad—just two people.”
I chuckled. “You wish. Over here you don’t get off just counting your parents and siblings as family. In Hawaii all your relatives up to fourteen steps removed are blood ‘ohana . That includes all your aunties and uncles, your grandparents and their grandparents, second- and third- and even fourth-cousins. Add in all the special people you choose to consider ‘ohana and before long, everywhere you turn you’re bumping into ‘ohana .”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“It’s a great thing. You ever see the movie, ‘Lilo and Stitch’?”
“Is that the cartoon about the little Hawaiian girl and the blue animal from outer space with the big ears?”
“That’s it. In the movie, Lilo tells Stitch that in Hawaii, “ ‘Ohana means family. And family means nobody gets left behind.’ I think that’s a good way of describing it.”
“Yeah. It’s nice.” She slipped a small backpack off her shoulder and began rooting around in it. “That reminds me. I’ve got something for you. My aunt—I mean my ‘auntie’—Lani got it for you when we went to the store to get the stuff to color my hair.” She handed me a small package wrapped
“I know. You’re probably right. It’s just there’s something about these two that makes me want to help them. Silly as it sounds, I think this is a solid relationship. One that will last.”
“If it’s r eal, they’ll be able to keep their shorts on a little longer. And if it isn’t, you’ll be saving them from a big mistake if you stay out of it.”
***
At nine o’clock that morning a stranger showed up at my shop door. I looked out the window and saw a girl with short brown hair styled in a pixie cut, a bright smile, and a flawless complexion. Her brown eyes sparkled with anticipation.
I love that look. It’s the glow brides radiate from the first day of their engagement until about a week before their wedding. Around a week prior to the event most of them trade the glow for a deer-in-the-headlights look. Of course, I wouldn’t exactly know what a deer looks like as it faces down an on-coming car since we don’t have deer on Maui. In fact, we don’t have much of anything in the way of forest mammals except an occasional wild boar. But from what I’ve heard, deer are masters at looking terrified. And so are only-a-week-away brides.
“Hi, Pali,” the girl said. “Open up; it’s me.” The voice was familiar. Kaili’s mainland accent.
“Wow, I hardly recognized you,” I said as I unlocked the door to let her in. Truth was , I hadn’t recognized her at all. But I wasn’t willing to cop to being so clueless.
“Aunt Lani helped me with my hair. You like it?”
“It looks great. And here’s another lesson in ‘blending.’ Here in Hawaii we refer to our aunts as our ‘aunties.’ It’s just the way we say it. In fact, we call any older woman we like ‘auntie’ as well.”
“Should I call you ‘auntie’?”
“Don’t push it, sweetie. I said an ‘ older woman.’ I’m talking about someone you can tell is at least fifteen to twenty years older than you.”
She rai sed her eyebrows as if to say, “ and your point is…”
“Anyway,” I went on. “Calling a woman ‘auntie’ shows you like her and you think of her as ‘ohana .”
“What’s ‘ohana ? I remember your friend Keahou used that word.”
“It means ‘family.’ You’ll see it everywhere. It’s a big deal in Hawaii. Nothing’s more important than family.”
“Not at my house.”
“Oh?”
“My mom and dad got divorced and I don’t have any brothers or sisters—well, not any real ones anyway. My mom moved us over here so she wouldn’t have to deal with my dad and my dad’s new wife. So I guess my ‘ohana is kinda sad—just two people.”
I chuckled. “You wish. Over here you don’t get off just counting your parents and siblings as family. In Hawaii all your relatives up to fourteen steps removed are blood ‘ohana . That includes all your aunties and uncles, your grandparents and their grandparents, second- and third- and even fourth-cousins. Add in all the special people you choose to consider ‘ohana and before long, everywhere you turn you’re bumping into ‘ohana .”
“And that’s a good thing?”
“It’s a great thing. You ever see the movie, ‘Lilo and Stitch’?”
“Is that the cartoon about the little Hawaiian girl and the blue animal from outer space with the big ears?”
“That’s it. In the movie, Lilo tells Stitch that in Hawaii, “ ‘Ohana means family. And family means nobody gets left behind.’ I think that’s a good way of describing it.”
“Yeah. It’s nice.” She slipped a small backpack off her shoulder and began rooting around in it. “That reminds me. I’ve got something for you. My aunt—I mean my ‘auntie’—Lani got it for you when we went to the store to get the stuff to color my hair.” She handed me a small package wrapped
Similar Books
