Oriana had booked a swanky hotel where celebrities and movie stars often stayed when they came to the island. Their suite had a living room, a balcony, two bedrooms, a speaker system, several televisions, and a kitchen. The hotel employees welcomed them with bottles of champagne, fresh fruits, and broken coconuts, from which they could drink with a straw. Oriana and Reese kissed on the balcony and sipped their coconut juices, overwhelmed with the sun and their fatigue. Over and over again, Oriana reminded herself,I didn’t think we’d get so lucky. But here they were.
At eight o’clock that evening, Reese and Oriana walked down the beach to meet Jenny and her mother, Henrietta Johannes. Oriana’s stomach flipped with nerves.
“I have so many questions for this woman,” she said. “I’m dying to know how she got away from Larry. I mean, people thought she was dead.”
“Do you think she’ll tell you?”
Oriana wasn’t sure. “I’m going to respect her secrets,” she said. “Whatever she wants to share, I’m ready to listen.”
When they found the little taco stand and beach bar, a woman of about fifty with dark hair and pretty dark eyes popped up from a picnic table and hurried over to say hello. “Oriana,” she said, stretching out her hand. “It’s wonderful you’re here. I’m Jenny.”
Oriana shook the woman’s hand and then traced a line back to the table, where a woman of nearly eighty sat with her spine straight and her chin raised. She looked regal, powerful, and secretive. She was entirely different from Larry Calvin Johannes. It was hard to believe that he’d ever victimized her. It was hard to believe they’d ever sat in the same room, let alone conceived a child.
Oriana felt the older woman’s eyes on her all the way to the table. It felt as though she could see all the way through her. Behind her, Reese and Jenny spoke about normal things, about their flight and their hotel. Jenny said, “That’s a wonderful hotel! I mean, I think it is. I’ve never been inside. But famous people stay there.”
“We’re celebrating,” Reese explained. “Oriana’s retired, and I’m cancer-free.”
Oriana was surprised at how eager Reese was to share this news. Jenny immediately treated it like it was the greatest thing she’d ever heard, which endeared her to Oriana.
“Let’s help you celebrate!” she cried, waving for the server at the bar. “Margaritas for everyone? They’re the best on the island.”
“Sounds good to me,” Oriana agreed.
“Mom, I’d like to introduce you to Oriana and Reese,” Jenny said to the older woman before them. “Reese has just shared that he’s newly cancer-free. And Oriana, he said you’re retired?” Jenny looked at Oriana in confusion.
“That’s right,” Oriana said.
The older woman looked immediately more relaxed, as though she’d thought Oriana had come all the way out here to steal her artworks. She stood and extended her hand. “My name is Jasmine,” she said. “Welcome to Oahu.”
“It’s a pleasure to be here.” Oriana smiled wider at the name “Jasmine.” It felt remarkable that a young woman named Henrietta had decided not to be called “Henrietta” anymore. She’d chosen her own version of freedom.
They sat down and waited for their margaritas, chatting about the island’s beauty and how different it was from Martha’s Vineyard.
But eventually, Jasmine tilted her head and said, “You retired because of your husband’s health.”
Oriana understood that Jasmine was the sort of woman unafraid of saying exactly what was on her mind. She glanced at Reese, who shrugged to prove that the statement didn’t bother him.
“Yes. Mostly,” she said. “That, and dealing with Larry Calvin Johannes, made me recognize how frustrated I was with the art world. I was an art dealer for more than thirty years. I experienced my fair share of personalities. But something about this turned my stomach a bit too much. Something about your story. I knew I had to get out.”
Jasmine bowed her head. “It’s funny. You’ve met him. You know him.”
“I do,” Oriana said.
“To me, Larry’s a ghost,” Jasmine said. “He’s the man I had to escape. I’ve dreamed of him hundreds of times over the years. I was always terrified that he would find a way to discover where I’d taken his daughter. He didn’t know I was pregnant when I left, but I imagined he’d figure it out one way or another. He wasalways crafty. When I realized that he couldn’t love me, not in a real way, I knew I couldn’t trust him.”
Jasmine sipped her margarita, then slid her fork through the top of her shark taco.
“What was your impression of him?” Jasmine asked, maybe because she couldn’t resist.
Oriana considered her first trip to Colorado, how excited she’d been about her new artist discovery, how enraptured she’d been with the paintings. Back then, Reese had been overly tired, but they hadn’t thought it was anything but fatigue or poor nutrition. It had been a completely different time in her life.
“To tell you the truth,” Oriana said, “I believed in him. I wanted to believe in him. Sometimes I think that’s all it takes.”
Jasmine bowed her head. “He could be believable. He could be whatever you needed him to be, until he got you right where he wanted you. But as it turns out, you were the one person in the world he couldn’t match.”
But Oriana wasn’t entirely sure about that. She remembered that Larry had spent most of his years all by himself in that cabin, nursing the wounds Henrietta had given him when she’d left. A part of her wondered if all that loneliness had been a curse. It had certainly damaged his heart—not that he deserved anything less.
“He had a moment of fame,” Reese added to break the silence.
