Aloha Love (2 page)
“Buck, I bear news from the paradise in the Pacific,” Aunt Matilda said after she greeted Jane’s father with an exuberant embrace.
“After grace, we’ll look forward to hearing it.” John Buckley stepped back from Matilda and smoothed his mustache as if had been disturbed although not even the top of Matilda’s elaborate coiffure had touched it. He stepped over and pulled out a chair for her from the dining-room table.
Jane could hardly wait for his prayer to end. The Hawaiian stories she had heard about for many years were better than any fairy tale. She figured Matilda exaggerated, but she didn’t mind.
“It’s Pansy,” Matilda said as soon as she and Jane said
Amen
after Jane’s father asked the Lord’s blessing on the sumptuous meal. Pilar would get another gold piece out of this dinner of the choicest beef, mid-April spinach from the garden, canned vegetables from last year’s harvest, and the best corn bread that ever came out of an oven. Inez was too proud to accept money other than her wages.
“Pilar, you may remember Pansy,” Matilda said, addressing the young woman who stood with her hands folded in front of her white apron as she waited to see if anyone needed anything. Much to the chagrin of Jane’s father, Matilda never excluded anyone from her conversations and had point-blank said that anyone who didn’t like it was downright snooty. So Mr. Buckley took it on the chin when Matilda gave a thumb-gesture for Pilar to have a seat at the table.
Matilda continued her elucidation. Of course Jane and her father knew exactly who Pansy was. Pilar probably did, too, but Matilda had her way of doing things. She looked at Pilar and explained, “Pansy Russell is my brother’s wife. Kermit Russell is a pastor in Hawaii. He never liked the name Kermit. Pansy wrote a long time ago that everybody in Hawaii calls him Pastor, Brother, or Reverend Russell, so she started calling him Russ. I need to remember that.”
Pilar nodded. Matilda lifted a forkful of mashed potatoes in which Pilar would have included scads of fresh butter, milk, and mayonnaise. It appeared to melt in Matilda’s mouth; then she washed it down with sweet tea. “This is an aside,” she said, “but I simply must compliment Pilar.” She faced the young cook again. “You milked the cow, churned the cream, and made this butter, did you not?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh, at a time like this, I am so grateful for you.” She took another sip of tea. “Now, for my news.”
They all waited. Although her dad had cut his meat and popped it into his mouth, Jane hadn’t taken a bite of anything.
“Pansy is ill.” Matilda took another sip of tea as if needing some libation to relieve her dry mouth so she could get through the announcement.
A sympathetic “Ohhh” sounded from Pilar.
Jane glanced at her father, who simply alternated focus between Matilda and his food. They were accustomed to her drama. But this sounded serious.
Matilda reached into the pocket of her skirt and drew out a sheet of light blue paper. “This is exactly what Pansy wrote.” She unfolded the paper and read:
My doctors do not expect me to live. I’m ready to go if the Lord doesn’t see fit to heal me. I want to be buried on the Big Island that has become home to me. My only regret is that I might have to leave my husband and dear children and friends in Hawaii.
Pilar’s eyes popped. “She has children?”
“Schoolchildren, dear.” Matilda reached over and patted Pilar’s folded hands. She stopped talking, as if one act of a stage play had ended and she was getting ready to begin the next. “I’m totally parched from that long carriage ride.” She took another sip of tea.
“But this,” Matilda said, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “This is what just about sends me over the edge.”
Hearing Matilda’s heavy sigh, Jane watched her dad respectfully lower his fork to his plate. Jane folded her hands on her lap. Pilar held her hands over her mouth and nose. Anything that could send Matilda over the edge would be colossal.
She took a deep breath and then read each word with great deliberation:
Russ needs you, Matilda. He will need you more after I’m gone. You know you’re like a sister to me. If at all possible, I want to see you. But I don’t know if I can live that long.
Jane watched Matilda swallow hard. She cleared her throat and continued to read:
One of our dear church members, Makana MacCauley, has taken over some of my classes. I wrote to you about the MacCauley tragedy. He has his own problems so I don’t know how long this will last. If at all possible, please come.
Knowing that Matilda could burst into tears, bellow out an unseemly string of unacceptable syllables, become uncannily silent, or even throw things, they waited.
Mr. Buckley ventured to mumble, “I’m sorry.”
Matilda sat with her finger bent against her lips and her eyes lowered. After a long moment, she laid her hand in her lap and nodded. “I thought Pansy had mentioned a Rose MacCauley before. I remembered because she has the name of a flower. Seems there was some family tragedy. Something about her son’s wife being in a terrible accident.” Her head moved from side to side, and she sighed. “Perhaps I could be of some help to her.” She smiled. “We who have suffered loss have a responsibility to comfort others.”
She let that sink in. Jane found it amazing that her aunt could say so much without really saying it and leave no room for debate. Matilda had lost her husband. Jane’s dad had lost his wife and brother. Jane had lost her mother and uncle.
Her daddy must be thinking they all had a responsibility to others. And she was sure the Bible said so.
Matilda held out her glass to Pilar. “Could you freshen my tea, dear?”
“Oh, of course.” Pilar stood and pushed her chair back under the table. She went to the sideboard, dumped the tea into the sink, filled the glass with ice from the icebox, and poured the tea from a crystal pitcher.
“I must go,” Matilda said dramatically after the tea was set at her plate and Pilar had moved away to await any further directive.
“Yes, I understand your concern,” Mr. Buckley said. “How long since you’ve seen Pansy?”
“Ten years,” Matilda said. “I’ve been remiss, but of course, when your dear brother was alive, I traveled wherever he suggested.”
Jane knew her dad would be skeptical about that. Matilda rarely did anything she didn’t want to do.
She looked at them again. “I must go to Hawaii. Perhaps Pansy will still be alive by the time I arrive. If not, I need to comfort my brother. Maybe I could help out in that school. As you know, Kermit—I mean Russell—Russell is my only living blood relative.”
Jane knew her dad would be thinking that when Jane’s mother had died, Matilda had been right there to help in any way. She’d become, not a mother, but a wonderful friend and companion to Jane and a big help to Jane’s dad. When her husband had died, Matilda had been able to comfort Jane’s dad with tales of the wonderful life his brother had lived.
“I understand.” Jane saw compassion in her dad’s eyes as he looked at Matilda. “When are you leaving?”
Matilda lifted her napkin from her lap to her nose for a moment and sniffed lightly. Her voice trembled. “How can I, Buck? A lady of my position cannot travel that far alone. I must have a companion.”
Jane’s heart almost leapt from her chest. The glance between her and Matilda before her aunt again slid her gaze to John Buckley spoke volumes. They both knew who that companion must be.
Jane’s dad nodded. “What about your friend who traveled to California with you? Would she not accompany you?”
“Oh no, Buck. She fears water. Would barely put her toe in the Pacific Ocean. She would never step foot on a ship that would keep her on the water for months.”
“You might advertise,” he said.
“There isn’t time.” She folded the blue paper, and her lower lip trembled. “And how could I trust a stranger?” She returned the note to her skirt pocket. “I would have to wear my gold pieces taped to my body.” She glanced again at Jane, and the lowering of her eyelids seemed to say, “Jane, it’s your turn.”
“Daddy.” Jane turned her face to him. “Aunt Matilda has done so much for us. What if I accompanied her to Hawaii?”
His mouth fell open. After several moments, he closed it. He opened it again. “Jane, you’re getting married.”
Jane could say one thing with confidence. “Daddy, you know I can’t have anyone but Aunt Matilda plan my wedding. She’s been like a mother to me.” She lowered her hands to her lap and absently moved the diamond ring toward her knuckle and back again. “We can’t expect her to plan a wedding while her sister-in-law is. . .”
Instead of finishing the sentence, she looked down at her food. A sense of guilt washed over her for having felt so excited over the possibility of going to Hawaii when the situation was so dire. But Matilda’s phrase,
paradise in the Pacific
, kept tripping across her mind.
“Daddy,” she said, “Aunt Matilda has done so much for us. For me. Maybe it’s time we did something for her.”
He certainly couldn’t dispute that. Matilda kept her eyelids demurely lowered and her napkin pressed to her lips.
Her dad was rarely without words, but he seemed to be searching for some. Finally, he said, “Matilda, you don’t know how long you’d be away.”
She shook her head. “No. There’s no way of knowing.”
He exhaled heavily. “Jane, what would Austin say about your being away for. . .” He shrugged. “An indefinite period of time?”
“Why, Daddy,” she said as if mortified. “Austin spent those years away from me getting his education. Should he have that privilege, but not me because I’m a woman? Would you want me to marry a man so selfish that he wouldn’t want me to be a kind, caring person?”
He seemed to be struggling with how to answer. Finally, he said, “Well, no, of course not.”
“Oh, Buck,” Matilda said, drawing his attention back to her. “Pansy wrote several years ago that the tourist trade has started in Hawaii. By the hundreds, people from all over the world visit each year. It’s a paradise, Buck. Why, it wouldn’t surprise me if Jane decided to get married there. It’s a perfect place for a honeymoon.”
Matilda made it sound like everything was settled. She had included the romantic idea of a wedding and honeymoon in spite of her sister-in-law’s illness. But looking from her aunt to her dad, Jane recognized that uncertain look in his eyes. He frowned. “I’ve heard it’s an uncivilized place.”
“Uncivilized? Why, Buck, it’s been seventy years since the missionaries went there and made the Hawaiians wear clothing.” Matilda’s hand came up and lay against the bodice of her dress, fashioned in the latest style. “And too,” she went on. “Pansy said they’ve almost stamped out those sensuous hula dances. The hula is only done now for parties and special occasions, and the dancers wear clothes.” She fanned her face with her hand as if the thought were too heated to discuss.
Jane stole a glance at Pilar. The two of them had seen Matilda’s own version of the hula right in Jane’s bedroom.
“Why, those Hawaiians don’t even square dance like you do here in Texas.”
Jane could almost visualize Matilda teaching the Hawaiians to square dance. Her dad was probably thinking the same thing.
Matilda must have seen his brow furrow and the slight shake of his head. She moved to another subject. “Besides, Buck, from information I’ve received from Pansy, Hawaii is so civilized they don’t let their cows wander off unattended right up in their front yards. Her gaze moved to the wide windows of the dining room, as if seeing a herd of cows.
Her dad’s gaze followed Matilda’s, and he spoke defensively. “They have to graze.”
“Yes, Buck, but not so close to the house. Why, Pansy said the cattle and horse ranches there had cowboys before we had them here.”
“Hawaii has cowboys?”
Matilda nodded. “Hawaii has huge cattle ranches, and Pansy said the cowboys are called
paniolos
. They send salted beef all over the world. Apparently, their ranchers are as advanced as—or perhaps more advanced than—you are here.” She paused, giving him time to take that in. Jane and Matilda knew her dad did everything in the most up-to-date way.
Matilda went further. “Jane and I could check that out and send information to you. Besides,” she added, “A spirited girl like Jane needs an adventure before she settles down to take care of a man for the rest of her life. Austin has said he had enough travel during his years abroad. He wants to settle down.”
Jane watched her father’s face. He seemed to be in deep thought. She knew he loved her, but ever since she had turned thirteen, he hadn’t quite known what to do with her except treat her like he would a boy. She was grateful for that and for Matilda’s influence on her life. Because they never tamed her wild streak, Jane did not consider herself a drawing-room type of person.
“Jane, what about your students?” her dad said in an apparent last-ditch effort to find a reason not to let her go.
“Daddy, they are equestrian students,” she said, as if he were the child and she the parent. “The classes are at my convenience and theirs.”
His eyes brightened. “Your own equestrian events, Jane. You’re becoming a well-established equestrienne.”
Jane tried not to show the sudden stab of disappointment that swept over her like a cloud of Texas wind in a dust storm. In the last two events, she’d placed second to Rebecca Cawdell. It was downright embarrassing every time she looked at the trophy or anyone congratulated her.
“Well, if they’re advanced in Hawaii like Aunt Matilda says, I could learn even more while there.” Maybe she really could and come back to get that gloating gleam out of Rebecca’s eyes.
Although he smiled before he said, “I would miss you,” he sounded sad.
Jane reached over and covered his hand with hers. “Daddy, you could come there any time. Even go with us, if you like.”
His lips tightened, but she saw the slight glimmer in his eyes meaning that such an event was a real possibility.
“Of course you could,” Matilda said. “Buck, I couldn’t very well have asked you to come along unless Jane agreed first. But that would be wonderful, having Jane and you along on this most important trip to be with my poor, ailing sister-in-law and comfort my brother.”
That brought it back around to the seriousness of the trip.
Jane did want to be helpful to the Russells. She expected, however, that she and Matilda would still be able to see the sights of that exotic land. But how much freedom would she have with her father there, watching her every move?