“Wow,” I say softly, craning my neck behind me as the view disappears. We're heading down the side of the cliff now, back toward the water.
“Next time it's sunny, we'll stop there, make sure you get some good pictures. Nothing beats Hanalei on a gorgeous day. Make the people jealous back home.” He pauses. “You have a boyfriend?”
I give him a wary look. “No.”
“I guess if you did, he would have come with you,” he notes.
I make a dismissive noise as we come to a one-lane bridge, the traffic backed up by a few cars as we wait for the other vehicles to come across. A sign indicates that you should let five to seven cars pass or go ahead of you when you're crossing, as a common courtesy. After our turn, we wind past a swollen river and wet fields that resemble rice paddies. With the lush, ragged mountains rising dramatically behind it all, it reminds me of pictures I’d seen of Vietnam, or some place in South East Asia.
The town of Hanalei passes by us quickly, which is supposed to be the closest town to the resort. Even in the shitty weather, people are strolling down the road without umbrellas, laughing at the rain with surfboards tucked under their arms or sucking back iced drinks. Cute storefronts, bars, and restaurants abound on either side of the road.
After we pass Hanalei, the road becomes this twisty, winding vein as it skirts the rough ocean, the surf pounding up against the lava rocks, palm trees waving in the wind. We pass one one-lane bridge after another, the scenery causing me whiplash as I try and take it all in.
Charlie continues to name certain beaches and places but I'm not really listening. I’m nervous all over again. Maybe it's the iced coffee I just drank down, but even without him saying anything, I can tell we're getting closer to our destination. We’re close to the scene of the accident. We’re close to the end of so many truths, so much heartache.
I close my eyes for the rest of the journey.
CHAPTER TWO
“And here she is,” Charlie says.
I take in a deep breath and slowly open my eyes as we slow down in front of a large tiki-style sign saying Moonwater Inn, the scene of a moon rising over surf carved into the wood. He pulls the truck to the right and into the parking lot of the hotel.
Oh my god.
This is it.
This is my new home.
Fortunately, it's gorgeous.
“That's the restaurant just up there,” Charlie says, jerking his chin toward the large building near the water, done up in a tiki theme, similar to the hotel's signage. “Home sweet home.” He parks the truck in a spot labeled “staff” and we get out.
The rain has let up slightly, a light drizzle, but the wind is driving it sideways. It's still warm though, and to be honest the feeling of it on my skin is refreshing. It makes me realize how badly I need a shower. I resist the urge to smell myself and hope that Charlie didn't think I needed extra deodorant.
Aside from the restaurant, there’s a tennis court to the left and a small lawn area bordered with torches. To the right, skirting along the beach and the ocean is the hotel, spread out into small, two-story buildings. It’s nothing fancy, a bit on the dated side, which is a relief. I’m not sure I could work at a high-class establishment.
Charlie brings my suitcases out of the back of the truck and gives me a triumphant grin. “Dry as anything.”
He wheels them over to me while I go back to staring at everything, aware that the longer I stand in the parking lot, the more wet I'll become. My hair is already sticking to my face.
“How many buildings are there?” I ask, reluctantly following him toward a single-story building named Reception. “How many rooms?”
“Two buildings right on the beach, three with ocean views, set a bit further back, and two that have mountain views, facing that way.” He points to the razor-ridged mountains that rise sharply from the other side of the road, their tops shrouded by cloud. “Thirty rooms in total.”
It's almost heavenly, this place: the clouds, the rain, the steady, rhythmic pounding of the waves, the rich and clear birdsong that sounds from the trees. But the closer we walk to the reception area, the worse I feel. Because this is no longer me in Chicago, wondering about the journey. This is no longer me on the airplane, imagining how things are going to be. This is no longer me in Charlie's truck, getting a quick tour of the island as we make our way north.
This is me at the start of my new life.
I think I’m going to be sick.
“Here we are,” Charlie says as he pauses by the open doors of reception. Is it just me or was there a flicker of uncertainty passing over his eyes? Considering how calm and easy-going he's been, that definitely doesn't help the situation.
“Shephard?” Charlie says, knocking on the side of the door. He pokes his head in and looks around the corner. “Where is Shephard?”
Knowing he's not in there, I poke my head into the office and see an Asian girl sitting on the other side of the reception desk, two empty chairs across from her. She's super pretty and about my age, with dark hair cascading over her shoulders, and staring at Charlie, completely unimpressed.
“This her?” she asks, not getting up, not smiling at me either.
“It is,” Charlie says. “Veronica, this Kate.”
“Hi,” I say as brightly as I can. “You can call me Ronnie.”
“Right, Ronnie,” Charlie corrects himself.
Kate studies me for a little too long, her expression hard to read.
She looks back at Charlie. “Shephard is still at the pool. He told me he'd give her the tour though, so don't think you don't have to get back to work.”
Charlie checks the clock on the wall. “Damn, time is a bitch.” He looks at me with a shrug. “Wish I could continue being your tour guide, sweet thing,” he says. He looks at Kate, who is in the process of rolling her eyes. “I'll leave her bags here, for now. Do you know where she's staying?”
Kate's dark eyes fly to mine. “She's staying with me.”
I blink at her, surprised. “Uh, I was under the impression I would get my own place.”
She laughs dryly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Right. Because that would be fair. Look, if you had a place to yourself, you'd be docked a lot more pay. Rent in Kauai isn't cheap. You're more than welcome to go find a beach house up the street or down in Hanalei, if you want to share with six other people, most of whom will leave empty beer cans lying around the place and piss on your head in the middle of the night, thinking you’re a toilet. Not that I’d know. But if you want to stay at the resort, you're staying with yours truly. Believe me, I don't like it either.” She sighs. “I just had a wonderful month with the unit to myself after Charlotte started shacking up with her boyfriend. But it is what it is.”
“Dude, Kate, lighten up,” Charlie says, taking me by the elbow and giving her a dirty look. “I'll come by and get the suitcases later.” He leads me out of the office. “I should also mention that I'm also the bellhop sometimes. So is Johnny. Or really any staff member who happens to be walking past guests with luggage. Be prepared to add that to your job description as well.”
I nod absently. “She seems . . . nice,” I whisper to him as we walk down the path and away from the office, skirting alongside one of the buildings.
“Kate? She's actually great once you get to know her. She's just one of those people who you can never tell is joking or not. Deadpan, you know? But she's good people. Hey that's your unit there. Corner one, great view.”
I look up to where he's gesturing, the second floor of the building, an outdoor staircase leading up to it.
“The units are nice,” he says. “I share one with Johnny over there by the pool. You guys get a view so there's that.”
“How many other workers stay here? Does Logan?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Shephard has a house up the street, just across from the beach.”
“The same one as before?” For some reason I thought that maybe the house would have been empty after
the accident.
“Same one,” he says. “And Nikki and Shannon share the unit next to us. We get docked a bit in pay for it but it's not as much as if we were to live elsewhere, so no one complains. Only drawback is that you live where you work, you know? So in a way you're always working. Just try and have a nice evening off without someone knocking on your door, asking you for something.”
We pause outside a gate with a sign displaying the pool hours, lush foliage with bright hibiscus flowers on either side.
“Well this is the—” Charlie begins but is interrupted by a loud, “FUCK!” coming from the other side of the fence.
Charlie winces. “And that would be Shephard. Sorry you have to meet him on a day that he's losing his shit.” He pauses. “Then again, you know him. Try to think of the happier times.”
The happier times? My brain chugs back to the past, where all the happier times reside. It pauses on the sight of him, seven years ago, looking out over Lake Michigan in that uncomfortable suit, the way his eyes looked as they first glanced at me. Like I was someone he knew. Like I was someone he wanted to know.
I'm prepared not to know him anymore.
Charlie swipes his key card at the gate and it swings open.
To get to the pool you have to walk through a small, open-air structure that has the change rooms, washrooms, and a small outdoor kitchen. There are a few barbeques scattered about and an eating area, as well as some loungers, couches, and a fire pit, all surrounded by lush potted plants and palms, adding to the tropical feel.
Beyond that is the tiled patio leading to the pool where a tiny balding Korean man is hunched over the filter, concentrating as he sticks his hands inside.
“Anything yet, Jin?” A brash Australian accented voice yells from the right of us. We look over to see the door to a maintenance shed open, a tall hulking figure half-hidden inside.
“No, nothing,” Jin says. “It’s not the filter.”
Charlie swallows, looking nervous again, which in turn makes me feel like I'm about to throw up.
Get it together, I tell myself. You'll be fine.
“Still working on it?” Charlie comments.
“Oh hey Charlie,” Jin says, glancing up at us. “Seems like an element has gone out, I think.”
But I'm not looking at Jin. I'm looking at Logan as he sticks his head around the door and steps back a foot.
I feel the air being sucked out of me. I never knew how hard it would be to see him again, and somehow it's harder than I imagined. It's like a sticky, sharp feeling that settles in your bones, the result of having far too many emotions about one particular person. Hate, fear, disappointment, distrust, shame, sadness.
Affection.
Lust.
No, I tell myself. Don't even think about that one.
“Veronica,” Logan says and my name sounds darker when he says it, like I'm the name of a hurricane that's about to slam into the island. Maybe let another generation of chickens loose.
I nod at him because I can't think of anything to say. I haven't seen him since the funeral, and it feels like I did nothing more than glance in his direction as the coffin was lowered into the ground.
“I got her here safe and sound,” Charlie says rather awkwardly, looking between the two of us.
“You look just like her,” Jin says. Startled, I whirl toward him as he slowly walks over. He has kind eyes and smooth skin, even though he must be in his seventies, but his words are still jarring.
“Excuse me?” I repeat.
“Like who?” Charlie asks.
“Like his wife,” Jin says, nodding at Logan.
I try not to look at him.
“Juliet? Shephard’s wife?” Charlie asks and he takes a step back, eyeing me up and down. “I guess . . . I . . .”
“Well, doesn't she?” Jin says to Logan, adamant.
Now I dare to look at him. Logan is staring at me, his eyes dark and pensive under those arched brows, though I know inside he must be reeling at the comparison.
“Juliet smiled more,” Logan finally says. And the moment her name comes out of his lips, I realize how much of a mistake this was and how hard it's going to be.
I can't do this.
“Can someone fill me in?” Charlie says, exasperated, pressing his palms together.
“You didn't know?” Jin asked, brows raised. “This is Juliet's sister. Logan is Veronica’s brother-in-law.”
Was my brother-in-law, till death did them part, I want to say but I don't dare. For all that I know about Logan, the horrible things he's done, the way everyone in my family feels about him, I can’t pretend that losing Juliet wasn’t hard on him. Even though I want to.
“You're Shephard's sister-in-law?” Charlie asks incredulously. “Dude, why didn't you tell me that?”
I don't say anything but Logan does. “Probably because she didn't want any special treatment. Isn't that right, Veronica?”
I hate the way he says my name. The last seven years have been all about trying to get him to call me Ronnie, like everyone else does. He calls me Veronica on purpose, only because it pisses me off.
“Pretty much,” I tell him, giving him a tight smile.
He holds my eyes for a moment, as if he's already trying to wear me down. I won't give him the satisfaction. I stare right back. Silence stretches between us, broken only by a calling bird.
“Uh, so Kate said you'd give her the tour?” Charlie asks warily.
Logan tears his eyes off me and I shudder inside with relief.
“I'll finish up here. Bloody pump isn't working. Might have to get a professional in here and go without heat for the rest of the week, fuck knows how fast I can get a guy.”
“It’s hot as balls. I don't think anyone will care aside from that couple from Boston. They've been complaining about everything,” Charlie adds lightly.
Logan's eyes narrow. “And we can't afford to have a single complaint, got that N-Sync?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Charlie says. He looks to me. “Come on, I'll take you to your new home, you can get settled while the habut stops grumbling.”
“Okay,” I say quietly. I look to Jin. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” he says with a wide grin. “We'll be spending a lot of time together.”
I don’t even have time time to wonder what work I’ll be doing with Jin the pool-man. I look at Logan to nod farewell, but he's already turned his back to me and is busying himself with the pool problems.
It isn't until the pool gate closes behind us that I finally let out a deep breath.
“So Shephard is your brother-in-law?” Charlie asks. “Or I guess, was your brother-in-law. Either way. Wow. Dude. This has got to be all kinds of…weird for you.”
You have no idea.
“I mean, Juliet,” he goes on, running a hand through his spiky hair. “Shit. I'm so sorry. I know I already told you how amazing she was but in case you need to know it again, there you go. She really had the hotel running at its best. To be honest Shephard has kind of been struggling with it ever since. I'm sure some of us stay here because we feel sorry for him.”
I don’t like the idea of feeling sorry for him. I want to feel nothing for him.
As we head back to reception to grab my suitcases, he says, “I guess coming here is kind of like . . . another way to say goodbye. Communicate with the ghost.”
I know Charlie is speaking metaphorically but even so, a shiver runs through me. Juliet's ghost is here, all over the hotel and the grounds, in the memories of the people who worked here, the man who runs the place, in the trees and the birds that saw her. I'd always thought that moving here would be another way to connect with her, to get a glimpse at the place that occupied her heart and mind for four years of her life.
But already it seems like it will be more than that. Her ghost might become something I can't escape.
We grab my bags at reception, Kate on the phone with someone as we do so, and head back to my unit. Even
though I try and stay fit by jogging every morning, I'm out of breath and sweating again by the time I bring my bag up to the second level. Charlie keeps insisting he can handle both, but since he warned me that we all have to act as bellboys at one point or another, I figure I can use the practice.
He swipes the key card at the pad on the side of the door and it beeps open.
I step inside my new home.
CHAPTER THREE
The unit is exactly what I pictured. Well, aside from the whole having to share it with someone aspect, though I tell myself I'll get over it soon.
There are tiles on the floor and thatched walls that look like they're made from palm leaves. The whole place is open air except for the bathroom to the right and a bedroom to the left.
“So Kate is in there,” Charlie says, hauling the suitcases across the floor and nodding to the door. “And let me tell you, she's one lucky bitch. I think Shephard has a soft spot for her because that's the only room any of us have.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, following him into the apartment. There's a kitchen on one side, small and a little dated but totally functional, and a large living area with rattan and bamboo furniture with palm-printed cushions. In front of that is an expansive balcony with chairs and a table, the view stretching across a wide lawn and finally to the ocean. Many of the condos face inward to the grassy area, like a courtyard, giving us all a partial ocean view at the very least, palm trees swaying in the wind. Even though the screen door is closed, I can hear the ocean clear as day, the chatter of a couple as they walk across the lawn in their bare feet, towels draped over their shoulders.
“This is your room,” he says nodding to a sectioned off corner of the living room, tucked behind the kitchen. It's only half-walled in, so there's no real door, just some partitions you can slide across.
“Uh, this is a room?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says, running his hand over his jaw and nodding like he's contemplating it for the first time. “In the hotel units, this is where the kids sleep, I guess. It's where I sleep in mine. The bed is really comfortable, by the way. And Johnny doesn't get his own room like Kate does, it's kind of done up the same way as this. No privacy for anyone.” He runs his hands along the edge of the partition. “Except Kate. Like I said, she’s one lucky bitch. She can have all the dudes over and you probably won't hear a thing.” His eyes seem to darken momentarily at that before he snaps out of it and gives me a cheeky grin. “You, on the other hand…”