“Sounds like love to me,” Lani said.
“Yeah, I could always tell that they really loved one another,” Kekoa said. “At night, when my siblings and I were in bed, we’d hear them laughing and giving one another a bit of grief over something that had gone on during their day. Even when they fought about something, it was never vicious or mean. It was more like a disagreement, really, since neither were yellers, andthey both absolutely hated silences, so they always wound up hashing things out and coming up with creative solutions in the process.”
“Really?” I asked as I stood and started to retrieve a few things from the cooler. “Such as?”
“Creating a whole new Thanksgiving tradition after they realized that they were both sick of turkey and ham and hadn’t wanted to bring it up because they each thought the other was looking forward to the usual holiday fare.”
I chuckled because the argument was one that had been waged in my parents’ house for several years, until they’d started going out for dinner so they could order whatever they wanted, and no one had to cook.
“So, what did they wind up doing?” Lani asked.
“Creating a sort of family potlatch,” Kekoa explained. “Everyone in the house was responsible for one dish. It could be anything they wanted; the only stipulation was that we had to make sure all of the ingredients got on the grocery list and that we made enough portions for everyone.”
“Ever wind up with a table full of desserts?” Lani asked.
“Twice. The last time everyone made a different pie, and three people paired theirs with ice cream, so we had a very berry a la mode Thanksgiving and overdid it on the sugar. It was epic, as was the stomach ache I had for the next two days.”
“Wait, so you cook?” Lani asked, suddenly looking rather excited, and I knew why too.
“Only if you like your food charred, raw in the middle, or more than slightly over seasoned,” Kekoa said.
“Damnit! But you bake, though, right?” Lani said. “I mean, you made pie?”
“I bought an Oreo crumb crust and filled it with no-bake cookies and cream filling that I dotted with whipped cream outof a can when I was ready to serve it,” they explained. “There was absolutely no cooking involved.”
“Damn,” Lani said.
“At least you were making memories,” I added.
“Yeah, it was always interesting to see what wound up on the table,” they replied, a smile curving their lips upward.
I could tell it was a fond memory for him. That he came from a home with tightly bonded parents left me hopeful that he craved that same kind of bond with us.
“My folks weren’t fighters either,” Lani said. “They always used the divide and conquer method when it came to tackling parenthood and just about everything else. Their rule of thumb was that whoever encountered the issue first got to deal with it, period, no tagging out or passing it off. The flip side was that they weren’t allowed to hold the results over the other’s head if they were less than stellar. It worked for them. Personally, it would drive me crazy to not at least have a discussion about certain things.”
“Yeah, I’m with you there,” I said, while Kekoa just cast sheepish glances our way.
“I’m more of a fix it first, ask questions later type,” they admitted. “That will probably drive you crazy after a while.”
“I’m sure we can work out some sort of compromise,” I said.
“Like not sparing any details when you fill us in,” Lani said. “I think I can handle not being part of the solution as long as I wasn’t kept in the dark about any aspect of what took place.”
“Yeah, see, compromise,” I said, prompting another round of laughter from all of us.
“I can easily see myself learning how to compromise with the two of you,” Kekoa admitted. “Especially once we start getting creative with it.”
“What makes you think we’re not boring as hell?” Lani asked.
“Because that would be disappointing,” Kekoa said, winking at Lani, “so I refuse to wreck the day by considering that possibility.”
This time our laughter had a softer note to it. Mellow. That he was open to figuring things out was everything. Now all we had to do was figure out how to woo our jellyfish and not get our hearts stung in the process.
Chapter 4
Kekoa
“I haven’t been here since I was a kid,” I said, looking around in awe. “My brothers leapt off the top into the water and nearly gave our mom a heart attack. I’ve never been scooped up so fast as when I tried to run up that trail and do it too.”
