From Glowing Embers

By Emilie Richards

~ ~ ~

For Michael:

dreamer, explorer, enthusiastic lover of life,

who blithely took his family halfway

across the world and never once realized it couldn’t be done.

Mele Kahea

Li’u-li’u aloha ia’u,

Ka uka o Kohola-lele,

Ka nahele mauka o Ka-papala la.

Komo, e komo aku hoi au maloko.

Mai ho’ohewahewa mai oe ia’u; oau no ia,

Ke ka-nae-nae a ka mea hele,

He leo, e-e, a he leo wale no, e-e! Eia ka pu’u nui owaho nei la, He ua, he ino, he anu, he ko’e-ko’e E ku’u aloha, e, Maloko aku au.

English translation:

“Long, long have I tarried with love In the uplands of Kohola-lele, The wildwood above Ka-papala. To enter, permit me to enter, I pray; Refuse me not recognition, I am he, A traveler offering mead of praise,

Just a voice, Only a human voice. Oh, what I suffer out here. Rain, storm, cold, and wet. O sweetheart of mine, Let me come in to you.”

This is a
mele kahea
or song of admission that was chanted by the practitioners of the hula to secure their entrance in the a hall or
halua,
where a performance was under way. It comes from Unwritten Literature of Hawaii by Nathaniel B. Emerson A.M., M.D., originally published by Bureau of American Ethnology, 1909.

DEAR GOD! THE
child sitting next to Gray Sheridan was only a little younger than Ellie would have been!

Julianna Mason took a step backward, as if putting additional distance between herself and the little girl sitting by the airplane window would somehow shield her from pain. Nothing could shield her now, however, nothing less than a magical return to the moments before she had stepped into the next cabin of the DC-10 carrying her to Honolulu and seen Gray Sheridan relaxing beside the brown-haired, brown-eyed pixie.

Brown hair and brown eyes. What color would Ellie’s eyes have been? They had been blue at birth; Julianna knew that much. Blue eyes in an impossibly tiny face. Blue eyes that had seemed to grow dimmer and dimmer with each faltering heartbeat. Blue eyes that might someday have been the deep tarnished silver of her father’s. If Ellie had lived.

Ellie.

How long had it been since she had let herself think about her daughter? The time between memories could be measured in weeks now. Sometimes even a month went by. But then, just as she thought she was learning to forget, she would awaken in the middle of the night to Kauai rain tumbling over the eaves of her house, and for a moment she would believe she was back in Mississippi. And Ellie...

Julianna pulled her eyes from the little girl to the man sitting beside her. From their position in the two seats by the window, and from Gray’s relaxed posture and closed eyes, Julianna guessed that the little girl was his. She wasn’t surprised he had a child, but one this old? How long had he mourned Ellie’s death? Six months? Three?

Julianna was almost close enough to touch him, although she had learned a long time ago that touching Gray wasn’t possible. Not really. There was no way to get to the man under the classically handsome facade, a facade that was aging just as flawlessly as she would have expected. Gray was what, thirty-one now? Thirty-one to her twenty-eight, ages when a woman passes the first flush of youth and a man comes into his power.

Of course Power was an easy word to associate with the Mississippi Sheridans. Julianna had no reason to doubt that Gray had become a powerful man. Power was something he would feel comfortable with. He had grown up with it, seen it nurtured and twisted and used to his family’s advantage. She imagined Gray had become a man much like his own father, one who could stroll down any sidewalk in his home state and know that any man he met would inch toward the street, if necessary, to make room for him.

Gray’s daughter.

Julianna couldn’t define the feelings those words evoked. She was seething with feelings, and there was no separating them. She only knew that she hurt. She had to get away before she made a fool of herself.

“Excuse me, miss.”

Julianna heard the flight attendant’s words. Without turning, she knew she was blocking the progress of the beverage cart. She had to move, and yet, for a moment, she couldn’t seem to make her body obey her brain’s command. She wanted one more look at the child whose eyes were examining her. One more look at the child who should have been hers.

Brown hair and brown eyes and a smile that would live in her dreams forever.

Julianna stepped to the other side of the aisle, away from Gray and his daughter, and started to turn to find her way back to her own seat.

“Are you from Hawaii?”

Julianna heard the clatter of the cart as it was rolled down the aisle away from her. The child’s question had been a quiet one. Julianna knew she could pretend she hadn’t heard. She could turn and be gone before the child could ask again. Gray hadn’t opened his eyes. He would never know she had stood an arm’s length away, envying him his daughter and hating him for letting
her
daughter die.

“Are you from Hawaii?” the little girl asked again, louder.

Julianna turned back. Gray’s eyes opened. She watched his expression, waiting for him to realize who she was. “Yes, I am.”

“Can you do the hula?”

Julianna willed herself to smile. “I don’t dance the hula, but I wish I did.”

“Do you surf?”

“No, but I snorkel.”

Gray was frowning now. Julianna could almost see his mind working. She had changed enormously in ten years. Gone were the short flyaway hair and the granny glasses. Gone were the painfully thin body and the three-sizes-too-large clothing she had overcompensated with. The woman before him was still slender, but her body was a woman’s, not a girl’s. Her dark hair fell in gleaming natural waves well past the middle of her back, and her skin was golden from hours in the sun. Wearing hand-dyed silk clothing that she had designed herself and three leis of island shells, she was a far cry from the teenager Gray had known.

But she would be surprised if he didn’t recognize her voice. He had always said it was the thing that had drawn him to her in the first place.

“I hope you enjoy your trip to the islands.” Impulsively, Julianna leaned past Gray and slipped off one of the leis. She dropped it over the little girl’s head.
“Aloha.”

“Thanks!” The little girl tangled two fingers in the shells as if to make sure the present was real.

“You’re welcome.” Julianna turned to go and she realized her hands were shaking.

“Julie Ann.”

She started down the aisle, ignoring Gray’s summons.

“Julie Ann!”

But she wasn’t Julie Ann anymore, and she hadn’t been for ten years. Julie Ann had died on the day of the funeral for the only child she’d ever borne. Julianna didn’t answer to the name Julie Ann anymore. And she didn’t answer to Gray Sheridan. She would never answer to Gray Sheridan again.

JULIE ANN WAS
on this plane.

Gray shut his eyes, forgetting for a moment where he was. The coincidence telegraphed shock to every part of his body, and his mind worked at maximum speed.
Julie Ann was on this plane
.

He had been so careful. He had learned her itinerary and then adjusted his accordingly. She had been scheduled to fly straight through to Kauai this morning; he had even seen a copy of her ticket. What had gone wrong?

It took him only seconds to realize that if he’d thought a little more clearly, he would have known this possibility existed. The plane was crowded with passengers from other flights that had been canceled because of a big storm in the Pacific. Obviously, Julie Ann was one of those whose plans had been changed.

The change was going to cost them both. The advantage had been his; he had known where to find her in Kauai, and when. Now he no longer had the element of surprise on his side. Julie Ann knew he was on his way to Hawaii, although she didn’t know why. She would be wary; she would be prepared. She would be waiting for him.

How could he not have recognized her immediately? He had seen the stunning woman dressed in stylish Hawaiian clothing, and he had admired her the way any man would have. But until she had spoken she had been just a rare, exotic creature, an island woman with more than her rightful share of beauty.

He had managed to make himself forget more than he remembered about Julie Ann, but he had never been able to forget her voice. Low and husky, with just the tiniest catch in it, her voice had always melted over him with the sultry heat of a Mississippi night. She had never cultivated the moonlight-and-magnolias accent of a true Southern belle. There was a Deep South flavor to her words, but they flowed naturally, cleanly, with a complete lack of artifice. It was a voice he could listen to forever and never tire of its music.

But, of course, he hadn’t listened to it forever. And that was why he was here right now.

“Do you know that lady?”

Gray opened his eyes again and looked at the little girl by his side. For a moment he’d almost forgotten that Jody Whitham was sitting beside him, counting on him for support and entertainment on the long flight. “I used to know her.”

She held up her necklace for him to examine. “It’s made out of shells. She looked like she was going to cry when she gave it to me.”

Gray had been too shaken to notice Julie Ann’s expression. He imagined Jody was right, though. He hadn’t cried in ten years, but now he felt as close to it as he probably ever would again.

“Is she Hawaiian?” Jody asked.

“She comes from Mississippi.”

“My mommy says I ask too many questions, but how am I going to know anything if I don’t?”

He tried to smile. “I’m not an expert on kids, but that’s how everybody learns, isn’t it?”

“You don’t have any kids?” Jody asked.

Gray shook his head.

“That’s too bad,” she consoled him. “Maybe you will someday.”

Those sympathetic words were just one more thing to haunt Gray as he stared down the aisle and tried to decide exactly what he should do next.

JULIANNA FOUND HER
seat, stepping past her broad-shouldered Australian seatmate to take her place by the window. If she’d been anywhere else she would have run from Gray, just as she had run from him a decade before. But where could she escape to now? She cursed the coincidence that had brought them together in the prison of a DC-10.

For months after leaving Mississippi, she had watched for Gray everywhere. After a year she had become less careful; after two she had stopped worrying. Even in the beginning if Gray had searched for her, the search would have been perfunctory. “I tried to find her,” he would tell everyone who needed to be told, “but she didn’t want to be found. Julie Ann is gone for good.”

He would have been right, of course. The day her bus pulled out of Granger Junction, she had known she would never see the town again. The relief that had filled her at that thought had been her first respite from the terrible grief she had suffered after Ellie’s death. Each mile she put between herself and the town that had given her nothing but heartache had eased her misery a little. But the real healing process had been slow, because there had been so much loss, so much betrayal.