A familiar, gentle bell tinkled in the distance. “That sounds like Maru’s malasada cart.” Sydney’s eyes went wide as she turned and spotted an older woman and a much younger one unloading a carload of trays and clear plastic boxes filled with sugary goodness. “Didn’t Remy tell me she had a stroke last year?”

  “It would take more than that to stop Maru,” Tehani said. “Her granddaughter helps her to make them now, and she doesn’t wheel that cart around anymore. Mano and Remy repurposed an old tiki bar as a mobile stall for her so she could stay out and be out of the sun. But the bell remained.” A smile crossed her lips. “Everyone around here knows what that bell means.”

  “That bell means I’m going to gain five pounds by the time I head home.” Even now, Sydney’s stomach rumbled for the coconut pudding-stuffed doughnuts. “I swear I dream about those haupia-filled ones.”

  Tehani stepped back and pulled her hand free as cars began filing into the makeshift parking lot. Vans and open-air Jeeps and trucks unloaded by the dozen; people young and old yanked colorful surfboards free of their transport before heading to the beach. More cars transported more people carrying freshly made leis, which they draped over one another’s necks.

  Beyond the lot sat Nalani’s main drag, a street that was filled with various shops, eateries, and stalls where locals offered their handmade crafts and homemade goods. A full-tropical one-stop hit of Hawaiian goodness.

  A tropical artist colony was how Sydney had always referred to it, with homes situated in and around both the beach and village. Old and sturdy coconut, pine and banyan trees gave shelter and shade for those who called Nalani home while also allowing for climbing lessons for the young ones embracing outdoor life. Down the road, money trees mingled with eucalyptus in arching groves against the sun while framing perfect island scenes.

  “I didn’t think so many people would come.” Sydney’s whisper earned an arched brow from Tehani. “It’s a weekday.”

  “You’ve been away too long if you’ve forgotten how important ohana is,” Tehani scolded. “Family always comes first.”

  Absolutely, it did. It was why Remy had named his local tour-and-excursion company Ohana Odysseys. He wanted everyone who came here, who paid for his and his employees’ services, to feel like family. No, not just feel like family—become family.

  Become oh-ha-na.

  “Remy always made time for them,” Tehani said. “Of course they’ll be here for him today. Mano made certain of it.”

  “Right.” Sydney winced at her careless comment. “Sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  Tehani nodded as they were approached by a familiar face.

  “Mano.” Sydney smiled, walked toward Tehani’s brother and, after he plowed two surfboards into the sand, stepped straight into a hug. He was exactly as she remembered him, with his broad shoulders, tattooed arms and healthy physique. He was considered quite the island catch, but from what Remy had said, their old friend was firmly hooked on his ex. Not that Sydney had any thoughts other than friendship where Mano was concerned. Even now, as he held her tight, she knew it was as close to a brotherly hug as she’d ever get again. “I hear you’re partially responsible for arranging the paddle-out.”

  “I put the word out, is all.” Mano’s voice carried the same tight grief Sydney had been trying to talk around. “Kaikunane.” He reached for Tehani. “It’s a good day, sister.”

  “We were just saying,” Sydney interjected when tears jumped back into Tehani’s eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner to help plan—”

  “Plans are taken care of,” Mano assured her. “What’s important is that you’re here. Remy would be—”

  “Irritated over all the fuss,” Sydney said, trying to joke, “and wondering when the party was going to start.”

  “Mano!” Someone from a group of surfers called from the parking lot and headed over, some detouring over to Maru’s stand for a jolt of breakfast sugar. “Brah, we’ll give Remy a good send-off, yeah?” The young man at the front of the pack carried a surfboard under one arm. He wore brightly colored board shorts and a warm smile. “You must be Sydney. I recognize your picture from the office. I’m Kiri. Aloha.”

  “Aloha,” Sydney responded.

  “Kiri assisted with a lot of your brother’s land tours and surfing lessons,” Mano told her. “But Tehani can fill you in on all those details later. Shall we get this ceremony underway? Daphne. Good morning.”

  “Good morning.” A tall, statuesque redhead had joined them, a yellow zip-up sweatshirt tugged around her. She wore her long red hair braided down her back and a cautious expression on her face. “Welcome back, Sydney. Glad you got in safely. How was your flight?”

  “I’d have been happier flying the plane myself.”

  “Remy always said you were the worst passenger on a flight.” Daphne’s face brightened; Sydney bet it was from fond memories. “He couldn’t stop bragging about his hotshot rescue-pilot sister.”

  “Yeah, well.” Sydney had no response to that. She did the job she was good at. The job she loved. Being in the air, having her hands on the control instruments of anything with wings... There was nothing better in the world. Unless it was using her skills to help people.

  The truth was, if she had been flying her plane last night, she wouldn’t have had so much time to think. And wonder. And worry about what could have been. All pointless things that had only added to her grief and stress. By the time her flight had landed—three hours late—she opted to stay mostly right here on the beach, coming to terms with the fact she wouldn’t ever be welcomed home by her brother again.

  “You’re looking great, Daphne,” Sydney said. “Remy told me you’d moved out here a couple of years ago to work with him. Island life certainly seems to agree with you.”

  Daphne nodded. “I can’t imagine it not agreeing with anyone.”

  Sydney wasn’t so sure. She’d loved it here, but the rest of the world had called to her through one big bullhorn. This small town had never felt big enough to contain her dreams.

  “Not going to paddle out with us, Daph?” Tehani asked as she stripped down to the floral bikini she wore under her shorts and T-shirt.

  “Surfboards and I are not a good combination,” Daphne said with a slight chuckle. “I’ll stay on shore with the rest and hand out leis. Help set up the food and direct people.”

  Ah, the food. Sydney shook her head. She’d missed the pre-funeral feast, but she was hoping to make up for it with the post-ceremony celebration. Today was the first time in weeks she actually had an appetite.

  “That’d be great. Thanks, Daphne,” Tehani said. “Syd? You ready?”

  No, Sydney thought as she took a deep breath. She wasn’t ready. Not by a long shot. She glanced down at the gray urn containing her brother’s ashes. But she had to be if any of them were going to move on.

  “If you need some more time,” Mano began, but Sydney shook her head and quickly stepped out of her skirt and blouse, shivering as her swimsuit-clad body adjusted to the morning air.

  “Forgot how chilly it can feel.” But even as she said it, a warm breeze wafted over the area.

  Tehani raised her face to the sun, offered a smile. “I think maybe he heard you.”

  “Yeah.” Sydney’s voice broke as she bent to pick up the urn. “I think maybe he did.”

  “You good paddling out with it?” Mano asked as she accepted one of the smaller boards he’d brought for her. “How long has it been since you were on the water?”

  “Not that long.” She’d found some good surf spots out in South Carolina. The water was different on that side of the country. Harsher. Sharper. But being in the water came in second only to being in the sky. “If I need help, I’ll give a shout.”

  Mano and Tehani waded out into the ocean on their boards, using their arms to paddle a good distance from shore. As Sydney made her way through the water, she watched as countless others followed Mano and Tehani out. Every one of them was here because of Remy. Because they’d loved and respected him. She could get through this without losing it.

  She owed them—and Remy—that much, at least.

  Sydney kept the urn close to her chest as she paddled out, the cold water lapping up and over the board, splashing into her face. With every stroke, she could feel her pulse quicken, as if taking extra beats for her brother. Well out from shore, she saw the circle of boards and surfers forming, stretching into a large ring. Mano and Tehani shifted aside to make room for her. She came up, straddled the board, keeping one hand on the urn as she caught her balance.

  In lieu of a eulogy, Mano had suggested a traditional Hawaiian blessing be sung, the sounds of which now rose up as Sydney lifted her eyes to the sky. Her tears mingled with the droplets of ocean water. Bright, fluffy clouds drifted by as the surfers joined in. They began placing or tossing their leis into the water and, as the song came to an end, Sydney lowered her chin and pried open the urn.

  She turned the metal container over, poured most of Remy’s ashes into the water, stopped and then offered the urn to Tehani. “‘O ʽoe kāna hōkū.’ You were his star.”

  Tehani visibly swallowed, bowed her head and accepted the urn. “Mahalo,” she whispered and, after a moment of quiet, poured out the rest of the ashes.

  A whoop sounded from across the circle, and seconds later, hands and feet began splashing, creating waves of acceptance and transmittance as the ocean became Remy’s final resting place. More flowers flew, soaring into the sky before dropping onto the water, petals falling loose and dotting the ocean with beautiful hibiscus, roses and orchids.

  The cheers of celebration over honoring a friend, honoring family, echoed until Sydney could no longer see the ashes. Her feet dangled in the water, and she clasped the edge of the board as the circle broke apart and some paddled off to ride the waves farther down the beach. One final tributary ride for Remy.

  “You okay?” Mano asked the two of them.

  Tehani nodded but didn’t say another word before she turned her board around and headed back to shore.

  “Did you know?” Sydney asked Mano now that they were alone. “That he was sick?” She didn’t have to look at him to know he had flinched at her question.

  “I knew something was wrong. He’d been...off. Distracted. Not by much. But by enough to notice.” He went silent for a moment. “Dwelling on it now won’t change anything, Sydney. He wouldn’t want it to.”

  “I know.” She did know. But it didn’t make it any easier. “He asked me to come back. A few months ago. He said he had this new idea he wanted to run past me, but he wanted to present it in person.” Her smile contained nothing other than bitterness. “I told him if it was so important, he should come to me. It was a safe challenge, one I knew he’d never accept.” She bent over to feel the ocean caress her face. “Nothing could ever make him leave this place.”

  “I don’t have to tell you how much he loved you. Or how proud he was of you,” Mano said.

  “No,” Sydney said, finally letting go of some of the guilt. “No, you don’t.” The flowers and leis bobbed and danced in the water as the sun rose higher. “I just hope I deserved it.” She nodded, gave one last look out at the horizon and then looked to Mano. “I’m ready.”

  Together, they turned and rode the gentle waves into the shore.

  Copyright © 2023 by Anna J. Stewart

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  ISBN-13: 9780369723826

  His Montana Star

  Copyright © 2023 by Shirley Hailstock

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