The bikers, these tough men who can handle anything the world throws at them, are completely wrapped around the fingers of every child here. I watch Hoodoo on his hands and knees being a horsey for Hallie while Raid lets Elijah‘help’him grill burgers. City is still making faces at Trina, who seems to have decided he’s her new favorite person.
“Auntie Kaia,” a little voice catches my attention, and I turn to Elijah—Bayou and Novah’s three-year-old son—who’s running toward me. He looks so much like his father and uncle that itsometimes takes my breath away, but in the best way now. “The goats are so funny. Can we get goats?”
“You’ll have to ask your mama and daddy about that, baby boy,” I tell him, ruffling his dusty blond hair. “But I don’t think goats belong in the clubhouse.”
“Why not? I heard Dad say that Los Angeles has a club goat,” he asks with the innocent logic of a three-year-old.
Raising my brow, I snort out a laugh. “Well, because a club goat might eat Uncle City’s leather,” I say seriously, and he giggles before running off to share this important information with anyone who will listen.
As the sun starts to sink lower in the sky, painting everything in a beautiful golden light, Lani appears at my side again, but this time she’s practically vibrating with excitement. “Kaia, there’s a call for you,” she says, thrusting her phone at me. “It’s from Hawaii!”
My heart leaps, and I grab the phone and see Mauka’s familiar face on the screen, with Aunty Malia right beside him. Behind them, I can make out the gorgeous Hawaiian landscape that I’ve been dreaming about for months.
“Aloha, beautiful,” Mauka says, his warm smile filling the screen. “We wanted to call and wish the twins a happy birthday.”
“Aloha, my sweet girl,” Aunty Malia adds, her voice full of love and warmth. “How are you holding up?”
Just seeing their faces, hearing their voices, sends a wave of homesickness through me that I wasn’t expecting. These people, Hurricane’s Hawaiianohana, have been checking on us regularly since the funeral, offering support and love from across the ocean.
“We’re good,” I tell them, and I realize I mean it. “Today’s been wonderful. Chaotic, but wonderful.”
“That’s what birthdays should be,” Mauka says. “Especially first birthdays. Have you got your plane tickets booked to come visit us?”
I glance around at the party, at all these people who have become my family, at Ingrid, who’s watching me with encouraging eyes. “Yes,” I say, and the word feels like a decision, like a commitment to moving forward. “It’s time. Hurricane wanted the kids to visit their heritage, to know where part of their family comes from. We talked about doing it together, but…” I take a breath. “I have to start living and show the kids everything their father wanted for them.”
“Good,” Aunty Malia says firmly. “It’s time to celebrate life… like a fucking hurricane!”
The phrase hits me right in the chest, because that’s exactly what Hurricane would say.
Celebrate life.
Live boldly.
Love fiercely.
Suddenly, Nalani’s face appears on the screen, practically shoving her mother out of the way. “Kaia! I’m so excited you’re coming. I’m going to take you dancing while Mom watches the kids.”
I laugh, remembering the last time Nalani and I hit the club. “The last time we danced together, Nalani, that night ended pretty badly for us.”
Nalani grins, completely unrepentant. “Yeah, but this time we’re gonna get you laid.”
“Nalani Rose!” Malia snaps, grabbing the phone back from her daughter while I laugh so hard I nearly snort beer out my nose. “Don’t you worry about her. All in good time, Kaia, all in good time.”
And while the idea of being withany manother than Hurricane literally makes me want to hurl, I’m not going to spend my life mourning him.
I can’t.
“I’ll see you all next week,” I tell them, and it feels like a promise.
To them, to myself, to Hurricane’s memory.
After we end the call, I stand here for a moment, watching the party continue around me. Hoodoo and Maxxy are sitting together on the porch steps, Hallie’s asleep in Hoodoo’s arms, both of them looking content and peaceful. Lani and Grit are dancing to music only they can hear, lost in their own little world. Raid and Frankie are sitting with Addi, eating far too much cake. The bikers are entertaining kids, and the kids are still running around like tiny tornadoes of energy.
This is family.
This is what Hurricane built.
This is what he died protecting.
