4 Kaua'i Me a River (2 page)

The message was brief. I’d been
summoned to Hanalei to attend a meeting regarding an “urgent family matter” on Wednesday,
June 27
^th
. Since I had no family to speak of except my little
brother, I figured it must be a mistake.

I looked at the clock. It was
six-thirty in Maui, which made it nine-thirty at night in San Francisco.
Probably too late to call an acquaintance but not too late to pester a family
member.

“Hey, Jeff,” I said when he
answered. I always resented that Jeff had a normal name. He had a different
father than I, so either his dad was less hippie-trippy than mine, or my mother
had learned her lesson and she’d insisted on a name that didn’t sound like two
stoners naming their kid after enjoying two joints of
pakalolo
and a tab
of peyote. Jeff had the same last name as my mom, Warner. Hard to imagine a
more normal name than Jeff Warner.

“Hey, Pali. How’s it going?
Everything okay?” Jeff and I are what I’d call “arm’s length” siblings. We both
care about each other, but we don’t make keeping in touch a high priority.

“It’s all good. I’m calling
about something I got in the mail today,” I said.

“Yeah? What is it?” His voice
sounded as if he was waiting for me to say something funny. “Oh, I get it. Today’s
your birthday and I forgot to send you a card. Sorry.”

“No, that’s not it. I got a
letter from a lawyer on Kaua’i. Did you get one too?”

“No, but it’d take longer to get
here. What’s it say?”

I told him about the meeting in
Hanalei on the twenty-seventh.

“Seems I haven’t been invited,” he
said. A beat went by and he said, “Pali? Who’s it addressed to?” It was as if
he was two steps ahead of me. Jeff works at the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory
in California. He’s literally a rocket scientist. He’s been two steps ahead of
me since he was three years old.

“The name that shall not be
named.”

“Huh. Well, there’s a clue for
you right there.”

“Yeah, maybe. Anyway, how’re you
doing?” I said. It didn’t feel right to just ask him about the letter and hang
up; especially since it was my birthday. We chatted for about ten minutes and
then Jeff said he had to be at work by six so he better get to bed.

“We should talk more often,” he
said.

“Yeah, we should.”

“Oh, and happy birthday, Pali. I’ll
let you know if I get a letter like yours.”

I
hung up feeling good I’d talked to Jeff, but also thinking that more than
likely he wasn’t going to be summoned to Hanalei. I had a strong feeling the
‘urgent family matter’ had nothing to do with me or my pitiful two-person
family.  

***

The next morning I called the
law offices of Raymond Albrecht, Esquire, and Valentine Fabares, Attorney-at-Law.
I gave my name as ‘Pali Moon’ and asked to speak to Ms. Fabares. She came on
the line almost immediately.

“Ms. Moon, I’m glad you called,”
she said. She did sound glad, which made me relax a little. She’d probably already
realized her mistake and was as eager as I was to clear it up.  

“Yes, well it seems there’s been
a mistake,” I said.

“Oh, how so?”

“I received a letter from your
office, but I’m most likely not the person you’re looking for.”

 “Why do you say that?”

“Well, I don’t have any family except
a younger half-brother. I talked to him last night and he doesn’t have any
‘urgent matter’ to discuss with me. So, I’m pretty sure the ‘family matter’ you
referred to in your letter doesn’t involve me.”

She was silent for a bit before
she responded.

“Ms. Moon, I can assure you with
the upmost authority that you are indeed the person we’re seeking. Is your
birthdate June 14, 1976?”

“Yes.”

“How many people with your legal
name do you think were born on that date?”

I nearly snorted. Most likely there
was no person born on any date in history who had the same ludicrous name as
the one my parents had unloaded on me.

  “So, you think I should come
to the meeting?” I said.

“Yes, we definitely would
appreciate your presence. Is transportation going to be a problem?”

I paused to figure out what she
was getting at. “Oh, do you mean can I afford the plane ticket to get there?”

“Precisely.”

“
Mahalo
, but I’m good.
Kama’aina
fares to the neighbor islands aren’t that bad.”

Kama’aina
is what we call
people who make their home in the islands.
Malihini
is what we call
visitors. The distinction is carefully drawn, especially when it comes to what
we’re charged for everyday goods and services.

“But can you at least give me a
rough idea of what this meeting is about?” I said.

“According to the wishes of my
client, I really can’t.” She sounded downright sorry.

“Well, if I’m going to go to all
the trouble of taking time off work and flying over there, don’t you think I
have a right to know what we’re talking about here? I mean, if I’m being sued
or something, I’d rather not come.”

“I’m not at liberty to tell you
the details of what will be discussed, but I give you my word you are not being
sued. It will definitely be in your best interest to be here.”

“O-kay.” I dragged the word out,
giving Valentine a few more seconds to reconsider and give me just a tiny hint
of what this was all about.

“Excellent,” she said. “Then
I’ll look forward to seeing you on the twenty-seventh.” She didn’t wait for me
to say good-bye before she hung up.

I called the airline to reserve
a seat on a flight to Lihue, Kaua’i. To get there in time for the meeting it
was best for me to fly from Maui to Honolulu and then go on from there to Lihue.
 The overall distance wasn’t far, but it would take me a couple of hours to get
there. The reservations agent told me I’d have to go to the Kahului airport and
buy the ticket in person if I wanted the
kama’aina
rate. I figured they
wanted to eyeball my Hawaii ID before handing over an inter-island ticket
priced at about half the tourist fare.

***

My boyfriend of one-and-a-half
years, Honolulu-cop turned Maui-firefighter Hatch Decker, called me soon after
I’d hung up from the airlines. I hesitated before answering because it was already
ten o’clock and I was seriously late for work.

“Hey, I hope you had a good
birthday,” he said. “I’m real sorry I couldn’t get anyone to cover my shift yesterday.
We’re still on for tonight, though, right?”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.
Are you sure your wallet can handle Mama’s Fish House? It’s about as spendy as it
gets.”

“No prob. We’ve got reservations
at eight. But how about later today? Have you got a full schedule or can you
pop down here this afternoon for a little ‘party before the party’?”

“I’d love to but I’ve got a wedding
couple coming in at eleven. Judging from my phone conversation with the bride,
it’s either a renewal ceremony or a late-in-life marriage. Either way, this
lady seems bound and determined to get her money’s worth. I’m praying I’ll be able
to be done with her by six.”

“That’s what I like about my job,”
Hatch said. “We get in and get out. Nobody jaws with us while their house is
burning down or when we’re cutting them out of a wreck. So, how about it? Should
I pick you up at say, six-thirty?”

“Maybe I’ll come down to your
place. You’re right on the way to Mama’s. And besides, I’ll already be down in
Kahului. I’ve got to make a run out to the airport and pick up a ticket.”

“Where’re you going?”

“I’ve got to go to Kaua’i later
this month.”

“Why?”

“I got a letter from a lawyer
over there. I’ve been invited to a meeting on the twenty-seventh. The lawyer
said it’s regarding an ‘urgent family matter’.”

“But I thought your only family was
Jeff.”

“It is,” I said. “And I talked
to Jeff and he doesn’t know anything about it.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, really weird. But I
called the lawyer and she convinced me I’m definitely the one she wants to
see.”

“When’s the meeting?”

“On Wednesday, the twenty-seventh.
Hopefully, I’ll be able to fly in and fly out the same day. Not much reason to
stay over.”

His end of the call went silent.

“Hatch? You still there?”

“Yeah. Hey, I’d really like to
pick you up at your place. After all, it’s your birthday dinner. And I’ll take
you to the airport before we head over to the restaurant. We’ll have plenty of
time.”

***

The couple who showed up at my
shop at eleven o’clock that morning was indeed an older couple, probably in
their mid- to late-sixties. She was a half-foot shorter than I, about five feet
tall, with a short cap of what looked like Clairol Nice ‘n Easy Tawny Honey
Blond hair. Her body had gone a bit soft around the edges but she was still in good
shape. The groom was a few inches taller, with a bit of a paunch and a moon pie
face that looked even moonier due to his cue-ball bald pate. His shiny noggin seemed
to beg my hand to rub across it to see if it felt as smooth as it looked.

I gestured for them to each take
a seat in the guest chairs across from my desk. I scurried to the other side
and sat down in my creaky teak swivel chair.

I like working with older brides
for a bunch of reasons. First off, unlike twenty-somethings, their wedding
isn’t the first grown-up thing they’ve ever done so they usually don’t get all
‘bossy pants’ on me. And, they aren’t hell-bent on everything being ‘perfect’
and falling into fits of fury if the ‘dusty pink’ headbands turn out to be more
like ‘heather pink.’ And finally, I haven’t met one yet who thinks she’s competing
with Kim Kardashian for most over-the-top wedding ever. I mean,
three
wedding
dresses? After the dust settled, it turned out Kim K had more dresses than
months of holy matrimony.

“I’m Mrs. Eleanor Baines,” said
the bride, opening up the conversation. “I’ve been widowed for almost five
years now. And this is my new hubby-to-be, Charles Lindberg. Isn’t that funny?”

After a beat of confusion I realized
what she considered ‘funny’ was her fiancé’s name. It was the same as the
well-known aviator who, in 1927, made the first non-stop flight across the
Atlantic Ocean. 

“Oh, as you may know, Charles
Lindbergh is a beloved name here on Maui, Mrs. Baines,” I said. “When the
original Mr. Lindbergh was alive he traveled all over the world, but Maui was
his favorite place. He’s buried up near Hana, you know.”

“First of all, dear, please call
me Eleanor. And, as you’ll see on our marriage license, my Charles doesn’t put
the ‘h’ on the end of Lindberg like that other fella did. But this is also my
Charles’ favorite place. That’s why we want to get married here.”

So far, ol’ Cue-ball Charlie hadn’t
uttered a sound. He sat there looking like a kid at the dentist while mommy did
all the talking.  

I nodded. “Great. Well, I’m here
to make your wedding dreams come true. Let’s begin by getting the paperwork out
of the way.” I handed them a wedding consultation form to fill out and two
pens. Eleanor snapped up one of the pens and completed the entire form in
record time. Charles used the opportunity to count the buttons on my shirt.

“Here you are,” Eleanor said handing
me back the form. “And you want a deposit of how much, dear?”

“I usually request a thousand
dollars, either check or credit card. And I ask for a credit card number to keep
on file. After the wedding dinner I’ll present you with the total invoice, but
if you want to keep it all on the same card, I’ll run it the next day so you
don’t have to be bothered.”

Eleanor plucked a Platinum
American Express card from her wallet and slid it across the desk. I wrote down
the information and handed it back.

“Good,” she said as she tucked
her wallet away. “Now that we’ve gotten
you
taken care of, let’s see
about taking care of
me
, shall we?” She dragged a thick manila file folder
out of her luggage-sized purse and started flipping out photos and swatches
like a blackjack dealer with a five-deck shoe. The afternoon slipped away in a
torrent of questions and demands for ‘must haves,’ ‘what do you think of’s,’
and ‘how much for’s”.

When I finally got home at ten minutes
after six I was starving. I grabbed a yogurt, but only ate half of it. I didn’t
want to spoil my appetite for the scrumptious birthday dinner I’d be enjoying
at one of Maui’s premiere seafood restaurants, Mama’s Fish House.

I jumped in the shower. Fifteen
minutes later I was wearing the only dress I owned, a short black shift with a wide
band of tropical flowers circling the hem. I did a quick touch-up of the big
three—blush, mascara, and lipstick. Then I rummaged through my closet searching
for my one pair of sandals that weren’t made of rubber.

“You look great,” said Hatch
when I opened the door at precisely six-thirty.

“You smell great,” I said,
inhaling the sweet scent of machismo—soap, Old Spice and the lingering odor of
smoke that firefighters can never get out of their hair.

“We had a big one go up in
Wailuku today. Did you see it on the news?”

“No, I just got home. My wedding
couple turned out to be talkers. Or, to be fair,
she
was a talker. The
guy she’s marrying never said a word.”

“It was a warehouse. Probably
another insurance job.” Hatch wasn’t big on discussing the day-to-day
challenges of my wedding business. At first I found it infuriating that I’d
tell him how annoying my clients had been that day and he’d change the subject.
Now I find it refreshing. No matter how stressful my day, I can always count on
Hatch to get my mind off work.

“You think it was arson?” I
said.

“Yeah, in this economy it’s become
a favorite method of unloading upside-down real estate. This is the third one
this month.”