Meg had no idea whether cats were allowed in her building.
Before she could answer, Sam knelt down in front of his granddaughter and gently eased the cat from her arms. “Lightning needs to stay here, honey. You know he likes to play with his friends and hunt for mice in the woods. He’s a country cat. He wouldn’t like the city.”
Alison’s eyes looked huge in the heart-shaped pallor of her face. “But I’m not a city girl, either,” she said, puffing out her lower lip.
“No,” Sam said. “You’re an adventurer, though. Just like Mulan and Princess Jasmine. Do you think they’d be nervous about a trip to the big city?”
Ali shook her head.
Sam pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. When he finally let her go, he got slowly to his feet and looked at Meghann. “Take good care of my granddaughter.”
It was not unlike what she’d said to Sam all those years ago, just before she left for good. Take care of my sister. The only difference was, she’d been crying. “I will.”
Alison grabbed her Little Mermaid backpack and her small suitcase. “I’m ready, Aunt Meg.”
“Okay, let’s go.” Meg took the suitcase and headed for the door. They were in the car and moving forward down the gravel driveway when Alison suddenly screamed, “Stop!”
Meg slammed on the brakes. “What’s wrong?”
Alison climbed out of her seat, opened the door, and ran back into the trailer. A moment later she was back, clutching a ratty pink blanket to her chest. Her eyes glistened with tears.
“I can’t go ’venturing without my wubbie.”
Claire would always remember her first sight of Kauai.
As the jet banked left and dipped down, she saw the turquoise-blue water that ringed the white sand beaches. Reefs glittered black beneath the surface.
“Oh, Bobby,” she said, turning to look at him. She wanted to tell him what this moment meant to the girl who’d grown up in trailers, dreaming of palm trees. But the words she came up with were too small, too trite.
An hour later, they were settled in their rental car—a Mustang convertible—and driving north.
Amazingly, with every mile driven, the island grew greener, lusher. By the time they reached the famous Hanalei Bridge, where huge green patchwork taro fields lay tucked against the rising black mountains, it was another world completely. On one side of the two-lane road, the local farmers stood in water, tending their taro crops. There wasn’t a house or a road to be seen for miles. On the right side, the winding Hanalei River, hemmed on either side by thick, flowering green vegetation, calmly carried kayakers downstream. In the distance, the dark mountains stood in stark contrast to the blue sky; a few diaphanous clouds hinted at rain for tomorrow, but now, it was perfect weather.
“Here! Turn here,” she said a block after a church.
The houses along the beach road sat on huge waterfront lots. Claire had braced herself for Bel Air–type mansions. She needn’t have bothered. Most of the houses were old-fashioned, unpretentious. At the park, they turned again, and there it was: the house her dad had rented. Only a block from the beach and tucked as it was in a cul-de-sac, it ought to feel ordinary.
It was anything but. Painted a bright tropical blue with glossy white trim, the house looked like a jeweled box hidden in a tropical landscape. A thick green hedge ran down three borders of the property, effectively blocking the neighbors from view.
Inside, the house had white walls, pine plank floors, and bright Hawaiian furniture. Upstairs, the bedroom, done in more bright colors, led to a private balcony that overlooked the mountains. As she stood there, staring out at the waterfall-ribboned mountain, Claire could hear the distant surf.
Bobby came up behind her, slipped his arms around her. “Maybe someday I’ll make it big, and we’ll live here.”
She leaned back against him. It was the same dream she’d had for years, but now its hold had loosened. “I don’t care about making it big or someday, Bobby. We have this right now, and really, it’s more than I ever dreamed of.”
He turned her around so that she was facing him. There was an uncharacteristic sadness in his eyes. “I won’t leave you, Claire. How can you not know that?”
Claire wanted to smile, shake the words off. “I do know that.”
“No. You don’t yet. I love you, Claire. I guess all I can do is keep saying it. I’m not going anywhere.”
“How about to the beach?”
They walked hand in hand down the road toward the beach. At the pavilion, one of the many public access points, a large group of Hawaiians were celebrating a family reunion. Dark-haired, copper-skinned children in brightly colored swimsuits played running games on the grass while the adults set out a buffet inside. Someone somewhere was playing a ukelele.