For ever and a day.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Hamlet (Act 4, Scene 1)
KATE
I hurry past the Hawaiian woman giving out leis to the arriving passengers. Finally, finally I’m about to see him!
I’m trying not to full-on run through the airport, following the baggage claim signs. The warm sweet air fills my nose—I’m definitely in Hawaii. My heart is pounding and I keep smiling unabashedly.
It’s been six months, one week, and three days since one of the saddest good-byes in history. Caleb’s grandfather’s health has been on a roller coaster, and a summer visit was inappropriate, according to my mom. It was the worst summer of my life. Senior year began and Caleb threatened to stop talking to me if I didn’t try harder to enjoy the moment, as he’s asked me to do. It’s my last year of high school, so I’m making an effort, really. I’m in leadership again and French club and crew—but my days revolve around our daily online talks. Now, halfway through senior year, finally—finally—I will see him again.
I’ve feared that love might have faded for him—that when he sees me, he might not feel the same. I’m trying to ignore those thoughts and believe and have faith in our love. And in a greater love too.
He’s here somewhere in this airport. Waiting for me. I sent him a text as soon as the plane landed, and then I raced off, leaving my parents and brother behind.
My family decided to make this a Christmas vacation/business trip. Not exactly thrilling for me, I must admit. But in the last months we have drawn closer together again, with at least two dinners at the table, even. Dad finally confided the details of the company’s financial troubles and the offer from Caleb’s grandfather. We made a family decision to stick together and weather the storm. I’m getting even more involved in helping Dad at the hotel. We’ll make it through this, I have no doubt.
Dad and Mom are also here to talk to Caleb’s grandfather in person. They want a family compromise, even some kind of legal agreement that gives the Kalanis partial rights to the Monrovi land. It may not change anything for Caleb’s future with Kalani Corporation, but it’s a step in keeping our future together on a smoother path and putting our families’ past behind us for good.
A group of tourists block the stairway and escalator down to baggage. I weave through them, saying, “Sorry, excuse me, sorry . . .”
The baggage area stretches across a long room. My eyes scan the faces.
Then . . . there he is. He’s smiling widely, and I run for him. He holds an armload of leis and slides them to the ground, rising up to catch me in his arms.
He’s real—his arms strong around me, his chest against mine, his hands holding my back and my hair, his scent and the feel of his skin.
“It’s you, it’s really you,” he whispers into my ear, and I’m lost in him, more than I’ve ever been.
“I’ve missed you so very much.” I’m crying, I realize, and he holds me firmly and with such immense tenderness, pulling back to kiss me in the most electrifying kiss—a true love kiss.
After a while, I realize people are staring at us, mostly with smiles on their faces. I feel myself blush and he laughs, cupping my face with two hands.
“We’re together. I can hardly believe it,” I say, holding tightly to his strong hands. He places a lei around my neck, kissing me again on the lips, then on my chin and back to my lips.
“Believe it. I have your two weeks packed full. Did you know I’m staying at the hotel with you guys? So I can be closer. Jake and I are roommates.”
“I suppose that should make me happy,” I say with an exaggerated pout that isn’t altogether fake. The parents-and-little-brother factor take my romantic visions down a few notches.
“You’ll be sick of me by the time you go home.”
“You are my home,” I say, and he stares at me with such a look of wonder that I want to cry with happiness.
He nods. “Yes, you are.”
I hear my father clear his throat behind us, and we’re forced to act more civilized, though I can’t stop smiling. Caleb greets my family like they are his own, placing a flower lei like mine over my mom’s head, and then leaf leis around my dad’s and brother’s necks, which makes Jake laugh.
Though I want to disappear with Caleb, there is something about being here together, with my family, even, walking to baggage claim and talking about where to go to lunch . . . that gives rise to an enormous joy. There’s something wonderful about us living life—walking hand-in-hand through the mundane, the normal, the moments that make a day—together.
As we watch the passing luggage, searching for our bags, Caleb clears his throat. “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he says with a slight smile. “Have you been missing some shoes?”
I look at him strangely.
“Maybe some shoes you left . . . on the beach?”
It takes a moment to remember the prom shoes I thought were lost at sea.
You have them?” “
He shrugs and laughs. “I was thinking I’d keep them forever. They’ve been on my dresser, so I see them every day. They’re like your glass slippers; they remind me that you’re real. But I don’t need them anymore.”
“Why not?” I love the idea that he’s kept my shoes like that.
“I don’t need them because I know you’re real. What we have is real.”
“Yes. But does that mean I have to give back your leather jacket?”
“You have my leather jacket?”
CALEB
I love seeing Kate here, showing her my favorite places, telling her stories, taking her surfing for the first time and making her try my favorite foods.
This evening, we’re walking along a perfect pale beach on the North Shore, looking out at a dramatic Hawaiian sunset.
Grandfather is changing, but I don’t know what will happen with us. Dad and I have been by his side, and he’s been the worst patient—disobeying the doctor’s instructions, shouting at his staff, and being an overall grouch. He also continues to try to bully me into doing whatever he wants. However, he did send me in his car to pick up Kate and her family from the airport. He’s having her family for dinner before they leave, before his next round of chemo. That seems like a hopeful sign of reconciliation, at least.
I notice Kate doing that thing with her lower lip that could be the end of all my resolve and convictions. I would marry her tomorrow, and sometimes I want to convince her to run away with me. We could live anywhere. If we ran out of money, I’d play my guitar in the park. I told her this once and she was too quick to agree. I want to take care of her nearly as much as I want to be with her, and she doesn’t make either easy sometimes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, stopping our walk through the warm sand.
“We’ll be apart soon,” she says, and I follow her eyes to watch the edge of the sun dip into the straight blue horizon.
The days are disappearing, and I feel desperate to slow them down. But I’m trying to be strong for her. “Hey, then we’ll be together again. We will be together. So let’s enjoy every part of it as much as we can.”
I say this and I mean it.
Because I know now, despite all the challenges before us, somehow, some way, we will be together. Forever.