"His name is Anela. It means Angel. The modernized version is Michael." No one else had ever asked. He should have known she would. Charlie felt the tears and buried his face in her neck, letting them roll. He didn't hear what she murmured as she held him in the quiet comfort of her voice and arms. When he finished venting the pent up emotion and would have pulled away, she simply cradled him closer. Embarrassment washed over him. "I'm sorry."
"Don't you dare say sorry." She leaned back, her expression fierce even as he saw her own drenched cheeks. "Your son. I can't imagine your pain, Charlie. Never be sorry for expressing pain over losing something so precious. Not ever."
Could there ever be a woman as wonderful, as perfect for him as her? Charlie swallowed, nodded, and held her tight. "Thank you." She kissed his swollen eyes and pressed him into her warmth. "Just to continue, Monica never forgave me for the accident."
"She blamed you for Anela's death." Christine leaned her forehead to his.
Charlie gripped her hands. She'd used his son's Hawaiian name as he always did. She fit him so well. "She had her reasons. If I hadn't gotten in the car, she may have been fine, driven around, and not hit the pole. Our son would still be alive."
"Or she may have done worse."
He scoffed, bitterness creeping through. "Worse than killing our child who hadn't even had a chance to live?"
Her hand stroked his cheek. "She may have hit another car, killing herself and the occupants of the other car. Maybe more children would have died."
"It wouldn't have..." His words halted by her hand covering his mouth and the sternness in her expression.
"You can't foresee what might have happened." Her voice reflected anger and, while not pity, something close. "An innocent, beautiful child died in an accident"—she stressed the word 'accident'—"no one's fault, no one's to blame." She cupped his cheeks and gazed directly in his face. "Do you blame Monica for driving so reckless while pregnant? Do you think she meant to kill Anela, you, or even herself?"
Charlie shook his head. "She wanted Anela, wanted to be a mother. Her hate and bitterness turned our lives into hell and led to the nastiest divorce in the history of our little town, maybe in our state."
"Harper-Morris is the biggest," She stopped speaking and bit her lip.
He raised a brow at her. "You couldn't have heard about the Harper-Morris divorce here. It was big news, sure, but not a national event."
Christine shrugged but a tell-tell flush stained her cheeks. "I, um, researched your island, the history and such when I received your account. I didn't research you or anything. The divorce case and some geography about volcanoes was all I really learned. Oh and how to say 'Merry Christmas' thanks to Bing Crosby and his infamous song."
She never failed to surprise him. Even at this dark time she brought light. "Let's hear."
"You can't laugh." She waited until he nodded. "Mele Kalikimaka."
Charlie grinned, feeling his grief begin to slide back into its space in his heart. "Not bad. We'll have you talking like a native in no time."
She shook her head. "I'm awful with different languages. I'd rather hear you."
He linked his arms around her waist. "You said one back to me a bit ago. Want to try again? Ku'uipo, Ku'u 'I'ini."
Christine stumbled over the words trying to repeat them and made his heart simply tumble. "What's your name in Hawaiian?"
"Kale. So you can see why I prefer the modernized version." Anticipating her next question, he stroked her hair. "And your name is Kilikina."
"Yours sounds better than mine." Her full lips pouted.
He kissed her, holding her tight, and murmured, "Aloha au iā 'oe." He wouldn't tell her the translation, 'I love you', just yet.
Christine trembled. "Yum. I love it when you talk all sexy and foreign. You should speak Hawaiian all the time."
"Foreign? We're the same country, my Gem." Charlie pulled her closer until he felt the steady beat of her heart. "There's not much call for the Hawaiian language any longer. I'm rusty in my accent. Monica despised it."
"Why?" She tilted her head. "It's beautiful."
"She wanted the more modern mainland life. A bit like my sister, though Alika never tried to deny her heritage, except to go by the modern version of her name, Alyssa." He shrugged and played with a strand of her hair. "One of the many differences between us. We both knew our marriage ended weeks after it began, or we wouldn't have fought like we did. All we had in common seemed to be work. She worked for our corporation, and after the accident, recovery, and finalization of the divorce, she requested and received a transfer to Chicago."
Surprise lit Christine's face. "Does she still work for our corporation?"
Charlie shook his head. "She met someone, a businessman from Italy, married him and moved there. We haven't spoken or kept in contact, but I heard the stories. The loss of our baby and the long recovery changed her."
"You were hurt too. How long were you in the hospital and in therapy?"