Aloha With Love Read online

  “May made it sound like you loved this house. I guess she was wrong.”

  Jenna kept her gaze focused outside. She was still staring out the window when she heard Ben sigh and walk away.

  Chapter Eleven

  With the kids out of the house and her husband at work, Sarah had spent most of the day thinking ... and baking. It was how she filled most of her days. With her kids growing up, Sarah’s family seemed to need her less and less. It gave her more time to herself, something she’d have paid dearly for just a few years prior, but now that she had it, she didn’t have a clue what to do with it.

  Guess the grass is always greener, Sarah thought with a sigh. Most of the other women in her circle of friends—many of whom she’d come to know from the kids’ sports activities, PTA events, and school functions—had found new ways to occupy their time, but Sarah hadn’t. Not yet. So, she baked, played hide and seek with every speck of dust she could find lurking around the baseboards of her home, and cooked large family dinners nobody ate.

  “May I be excused?” asked Emma. She’d been poking at her uneaten dinner for the past fifteen minutes.

  When had Sarah’s sweet-if-precocious little girl turned into the impatient sixteen-year-old across from her? “You didn’t say two words over dinner.”

  Emma stabbed at a carrot. “Marley was supposed to text me. I have to check my phone.”

  Sarah glanced at Mike. He shrugged. So much for backup. “Okay, fine. Go.”

  Emma’s fork clattered against her plate and her chair legs scraped against the tile as she shoved up and darted from the table. Ethan jumped up as well, like one of those little fish pulled along in the wake of a larger predator.

  “Whoa, buddy, where are you going?”

  Ethan shoved another dinner roll in his mouth. “I’m in the middle of a game of Rebel Attack,” he mumbled around the bread. “If Emma can be dismissed, then I want to go, too.”

  Sarah sighed. “Did you do your homework?”

  “Not completely—”

  Big surprise. “Finish your homework and then you can play your video game.”

  “Mom!”

  Her fourteen-year-old son’s voice may have already cracked into puberty, but when he whined, he still sounded like a little boy. “Don’t Mom me, just do it.”

  “Okay, okay,” Ethan acquiesced, stuffing his pockets with more rolls before vanishing into the family room.

  Sarah groaned and leaned back in her chair. “He really has to find an interest besides video games,” she groused. “Books, sports, something. Video games are all he seems to care about these days.”

  “I know.” Mike was already up and clearing the table, shepherding plates from the dining room table to the kitchen sink. This was an old argument. Sarah would complain about Emma’s general lack of enthusiasm on anything involving family. She would insist Ethan needed a more constructive hobby to occupy his time. Mike would agree on both accounts but offer little in terms of a solution. Then Sarah would get aggravated until, eventually, the conversation turned from frustration about their children’s lack of interest in anything that didn’t involve a screen and end with them finding something to nitpick each other about.

  There was no sense in going down this familiar path tonight; it wouldn’t lead anywhere she hadn’t already been. Instead, watching Mike clear away dishes of the dinner she’d spent the better half of the afternoon preparing, Sarah thought perhaps her son wasn’t the only one who needed a new hobby.

  “Why do I cook?” she asked, watching as Emma’s plate of uneaten food was swept from the table. “Why do I even bother?”

  “I like your cooking,” Mike responded automatically.

  He’d been the only one to make a dent in his plate, but then Mike rarely met a meal he didn’t like.

  “I know you do, and I appreciate that.”

  “And your dad will be in the refrigerator later to polish off anything we didn’t finish,” Mike teased. “You know he will.”

  “He could just as easily join during family dinnertime instead of working on secret projects in the garage.” At least her father could be counted on to make sure nothing Sarah cooked went uneaten.

  Sarah reflected on her conversation with Jenna. If her sister was still working on putting the gift she’d earned from their family into action, then why couldn’t she? Maybe she could turn her baking hobby into something more meaningful.

  Speak of the devil. The front door opened, and Sarah’s gaze swept to the small digital readout on the stove. Half past six. She’d left Jenna at Aunt May’s early in the afternoon to meet with the contractor Grace had sent. Sarah had thought Jenna would be back in time for dinner to update her on the condition of the house. Was it a good sign that she’d been gone so long, or a bad one?

  “That’s Jenna,” Sarah said, rising from the table. “I’ll be back for the dishes. Thanks for putting everything away.”

  Mike smiled. “I’ll clean up. Go talk to your sister.”

  

  Jenna’s day had gone from bad to worse. Not only was Aunt May’s house in worse shape than she’d anticipated, now she had to find a way to break the news to Sarah that her aunt’s chosen contractor had declined to take the job. Fulfilling Aunt’s May wishes wasn’t going to be easy without Ben—not that fulfilling them with Ben would have been any easier. She’d have to wait until Grace was back from her trip to New York to figure out what to do next, but first she had to face her sister.

  “Why the long face?” Sarah asked as Jenna pulled up a seat at the dinner table.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing your Friday night with your family.”

  Sarah slid a tray of uneaten pastries in front of Jenna. Blondies, just like she’d promised. “Not at all. After Mike cleans up after dinner, he’ll disappear into his study, Ethan is glued to his video game console, and Emma ... well, Emma is busy being Emma. Our relationship has been better, to say the least.”

  Jenna watched her sister’s lip pulled to the side. She recognized the expression—she’d made it in the mirror hundreds of time worrying over Darren. “I guess I’m not the only one who’s lonely.”

  “She’s growing up and I just have to get used it. Soon she’ll be going off to college. I need to find a new hobby.”

  “Baking is your hobby. Your pastries are to die for.” Jenna bit into one of Sarah’s blondies. Sugary sweetness and nostalgia filled her mouth.

  “And I have two people to eat them.” Sarah raised her left hand, waving her index and middle fingers in the air. “Mike and Dad. Keeps me busy, let me tell you.”

  “How about yoga?” Jenna didn’t do yoga but knew plenty of women who did, and they all insisted it was the most relaxing thing ever—which was precisely why Jenna didn’t do it. She needed her energy, flourished on stress. “Yoga is fun and relaxing, or so I’ve heard.”

  Her sister slow-blinked over the edge of her teacup. “I have no interest in twisting my body into a pretzel, thank you very much.”

  Well, at least they had that in common. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” Jenna encouraged her sister. “You always do.”

  Sarah cleared her throat. “So, how did it go with the contractor this morning? He’s cute.”

  Jenna nearly choked on her blondie. She refused to let her thoughts settle for one second on Ben Fletcher’s dimples. His perfect five o’clock scruff.

  His toolbelt.

  Jenna shoved another bite of blondie into her mouth. Swallowed. “He’s difficult!”

  “What do you mean?”

  What did she mean? “He’s annoyingly passionate about restoring the original beauty of the house and helping her rise up on her strong foundation again.”

  “Her?” Sarah wrinkled her nose. “Aunt May?”

  “Apparently, the house is a she.”

  Sarah groaned into her tea, picking up on Jenna’s vibe. “Is he completely crazy? This is a renovation project, not a makeover.”

  “He’s not crazy,” J
enna corrected. “He’s a control freak. He wants to do everything his way.”

  “But it’s our house!”

  Jenna hit her chest with her palm. “That’s what I said! It’s not like we’re fixing the house up to move in. We’re just trying to fulfill Aunt May’s wishes so we can all move on. But Ben thinks she deserves better.”

  Sarah narrowed her eyes, but Jenna wasn’t sure if her sister’s glare was directed at her or Ben Fletcher.

  “Did you fire him?”

  Jenna bit her lip and set the blondie back on the tray. “He kind of ... quit.”

  “He quit?”

  “He was only interested in doing things his way, and not listening to me at all.” Jenna squared her shoulders. Sure, maybe he’d had a couple of good ideas, but Ben had acted like it was his house—his budget—and hadn’t seemed to hear her at all. Just like Darren, and just like Orville Barrington.

  Sarah’s face fell. “So, what are we going to do now?”

  “I don’t know.” Jenna sighed. Frankly, she’d been wondering the same thing all evening. Had she made the right call in being so adamant about time and savings? Aunt May had chosen Ben for a reason. Perhaps she should have been more willing to hear his ideas. Then again, she had a life to get back to, even if it was smaller now than it had been a week ago. “But I just want to hire someone to get the job done, and get it done fast, so we can sell the house and I can get on with my life.”

  Without Aunt May to talk to, there was only one other person Jenna could trust for advice. “Is Dad around?”

  “He’s out in his workshop.” Sarah’s voice was flat. “Maybe he’ll have some ideas.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The approaching Hawaiian sunset painted the sky in brushstrokes of brilliant pinks and golds, but the colors over her head did nothing to brighten Jenna’s mood as she made her way to the workshop behind Sarah’s house. Jim Burke’s RV was parked at the edge of her sister’s property. Makeshift living quarters. Jenna’s smile felt sad. She’d known Aunt May had aged, but when had her father gotten so old? Moving into Sarah’s had seemed like a convenience at the time, but as Jenna took in the old surfboards and faded family photographs tacked along his workspace walls, she realized the change had been much more significant. While she had been so caught up in moving forward, time had passed her by.

  “Can I talk to you a minute, Dad?”

  Jim glanced up from his position on the floor where he was working with a handheld sander to smooth out the legs of what might one day be a small table. “As many minutes as you need, Peanut.”

  Jenna studied the large piece of wood, the shaping legs. “What are you working on?”

  “Coffee table for May. Well, at least it was supposed to be. Was supposed to be for her room at the retirement home. Kou wood from one of her favorite trees on her property.”

  Kou wood. Jenna remembered the kou trees she had added into Terrace Pines. Funny, she’d meant them to bring a little bit of the islands home to her model. Instead, she’d found herself brought home to the islands.

  “It’s beautiful,” Jenna said. “I’m sure the family would love to have a piece of her home to keep after we sell it.”

  Her father turned his attention back to the in-progress coffee table. He laid a heavy hand on the wood. “Maybe so.”

  “That is, if we can sell it.” Tension tickled along the edges of Jenna’s skin and she crossed her arms, so she didn’t fidget. Telling Sarah about her bad day with Ben had been hard. Telling her father was way worse.

  “What do you mean?”

  Jenna tightened her grip on herself. “I wasn’t seeing eye-to-eye with the contractor on how to reno the house, so he quit.”

  Her father blinked up in surprise. “Get out of here. Ben Fletcher didn’t quit—boy doesn’t know how.”

  It was Jenna’s turn to be surprised. “Wait, how did you know who the contractor was?”

  “Oh, Ben’s been doing work for May for years.” Jim waved her away. “He might be the only one left besides the two of us who loves her house as much as we do. Can’t believe he’d quit on you, Peanut.”

  “Well, he did, Dad.” Sort of.

  Jim Burke didn’t look convinced. If anything, he looked confused. “Just doesn’t sound like Ben is all.”

  Jenna resisted the urge to groan. How come it didn’t matter how old she got, she never grew out of worrying about disappointing her dad? Then again, it wasn’t like she’d fired Ben. He’d walked out on her. Jenna nodded, widened her eyes, and prepared to insist on the point. Then, she reconsidered.

  “Okay, I might have pushed him a little,” she admitted. She dug the toe of her shoe into the dirt floor of the workshop. “A lot.”

  Jim gave her a fatherly look. “Doesn’t sound like you either, Peanut.”

  She shrugged.

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear he quit. May wanted him for this job every bit as much as she wanted you. We’ll have to ask Grace if the will’s flexible enough to let us find somebody new.”

  “That’s only half the problem,” Jenna said. “This is starting to look like it’s going to take a long time—too long. May’s house is in bad shape, Dad. Really bad. And I need to get home.”

  “Home,” Jim repeated. His stoic expression cracked into something like hurt. “I’ve always thought of this as your home, Jenna. Doesn’t matter if you live somewhere else ... Hawaii will always be your home.”

  “Maybe so, but I have to go back. Even if Maui is home, my life is in LA.”

  What’s left of it anyway, she thought. She watched as her dad swapped out the sander for a large sheet of sandpaper and began rubbing away at the table legs. Hard.

  “I still think you should finish the house,” she said. “Then live there yourself.”

  He lifted his hand and pointed to his RV, at the surfboard leaned against its side. “And give up my luxurious lifestyle in Betty Lou here? No chance.” He laughed. “I love being able to drive my house to my secret surf spots. When those big swells come in, it’s just me, my board, and those waves.”

  This made Jenna smile. Her daddy might have gotten older, but he was still the same man who’d raised her—all sunshine and saltwater. “My surf rat Daddy.”

  Jim winked. “Besides, May didn’t leave the house to me. She left it to you and Sarah to decide what to do ... and I know Sarah once dreamed of opening up her own bakery when she was a girl. She doesn’t say much about it, maybe doesn’t even remember it herself, but I do.”

  A bakery? The thought of her sister making a business out of her baked goods made perfect sense. “She’s never mentioned a bakery to me.”

  “Emma’s almost grown and Ethan’s not far behind. When those kids leave the nest, she’ll need a new purpose in life. Already does, but she’s still too busy grieving what she’s lost than thinking about what’s to come. She’ll get there. So will you.”

  Jenna wasn’t so sure about herself, but even without kids, she could still understand her sister’s predicament. After all, she’d recently come very close to ending up with his and hers home offices.

  The two sat together quietly for a few moments, the only sound the noise of Jim’s sandpaper working against the bulk of kou tree. “Well, I guess I better go figure out what my options are. Either way it goes, May’s house isn’t going to renovate itself.”

  She gave her father a hug, then walked back to the house. Sunset had darkened into twilight, but though the sky was darker somehow Jenna’s mood seemed just a fraction brighter.

  

  Sarah’s small guest bedroom was nearly as big as Jenna’s entire apartment. She plopped on the bed, opened her laptop, and stared at the familiar picture on her screen.

  “I miss you, Aunt May.” One more glance and Jenna blinked away tears and queued up her inbox. It had only been two days since she’d left the office, but she hadn’t had a chance to check in and her email inbox was already overflowing. The sender’s name at the top of her inbox made her stomach churn.<
br />
  “Ugh, leave me alone Darren.” She hit the delete key and discovered she could breathe easier without her ex-boyfriend’s unread email at the top of her mailbox.

  Most of the remaining emails were from Patti. Jenna sighed and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Seven p.m. Patti would probably still be in the office. Maybe a quick call would be more productive than a dozen email responses.

  Jenna pulled her cell from her pocket and looked at the screen. “Give me some bars, Maui!” she groaned. Reason ninety-nine why she needed to be back in LA—reliable cell service. Not only did the island run on its own clock, it had its own opinion about cellular communications as well. Wi-Fi was a whole different can of worms. She could barely refresh her social media much less download anything with any degree of reliability. Each time she’d tried to refresh her inbox, the entire app had crashed.

  Surely Sarah had free long-distance calling, right? The island might run on its own time, but certainly it had made its way into modern phone service plans. Jenna tossed her cell phone on the bed, picked up the landline, and dialed Patti’s office number.

  Patti picked up on the second ring. “Patti Murray.”

  “Hey boss.”

  “Jenna! I was hoping you’d call. How are you doing?”

  Jenna could hear the sound of Patti’s nails clicking away against her keyboard in the background as the line transitioned to speaker phone. “I’m okay... No, I’m not okay, but I will be.”

  “I know you will be,” Patti clipped back. “Look, I’m in the office working late, so please tell me you’re on the beach with a Mai-Tai in one hand and a handsome surfer in the other.”

  Right. First of all, Patti always worked late. Second, the last thing Jenna had time for was a fruity cocktail or a cute guy. An image of Ben flashed through her thoughts—blue eyes, blond hair, tan skin—and she rolled her eyes. “Not hardly. Actually, there are some complications with Aunt May’s estate. It’s why I’m calling. I’m going to need more time on the ground here.”