“Keiki…” he started, sending his tween a look he knew she understood. When Kai nodded toward the incline, past the small cluster of their family gathering to listen to Kona’s cousin Dado play the ukulele and the kahu, holy man, as they stood near the headstones where his wife and Kona stood, his daughter’s expression changed.
“I’m…sorry.” She lowered her voice, glancing toward Gia and back to Makani who fought to be put down. “Is…Gia okay?”
“Of course, pēpē…but this day is about our ohana, all of us.”
“And Kona’s brother?”
She walked next to Kai, stretching out her arms when he took his son from her. “Luka,” he explained, head shaking at her. He’d explained who Luka was a half a dozen times before they’d made the trip to visit his grave.
Twenty-five years ago, the cousin Kai had never known gave his life trying to protect his brother. Gia had explained that to Keola. The girl had asked often about the picture on their living room mantel. It was the only one his wife had left of Luka. The others, all the Polaroids, she’d burned in her fireplace the same night she’d told Kai she loved him.
“And Gia…loved him. That’s what she said.”
Kai nodded, looking down at his boy when he yawned and laid his head on his father’s shoulder. “Luka was her first love.”
“But you…”
“I’m her last.”
They stopped several feet from where Dado and the kahu talked to Kona. Next to them Keira held the hand of their daughter Makana while their boy Koa stood next to Aly, their oldest son Ransom’s woman. Kai watched the man as he stood in front of the headstone, his hands in his pockets and Gia at his side. She always went quiet when she came here and seemed even quieter anytime Ransom was around. Kai understood. The man did look a freakish lot like all the pictures he’d seen of Luka.
“We’re going to start now,” the kahu said, waving everyone close and Kai led his daughter toward the headstone, standing behind Gia, giving her space. Ransom joined his woman while Kona and Keira stood next to the kahu and Dado who began to play his ukulele. It was a song Kai only vaguely remembered that reminded him of goodbyes and celebrations, renewals and promises of reunions.
“Today we honor Luka, our brother,” the kuha started. Kai adjusted his son, his chest tightening as he spotted the way Kona dipped his head how he seemed unable to look at that tombstone or give more than a passing glance at the picture of his twin fixed to the center of it. Kai could understand. He didn’t like to think of Keeana alone in the earth back in Maui. He’d only been back once since she died to bring Keola to visit her grandparents. Kai hadn’t been able to go with them to the cemetery. He hadn’t wanted to see her there. If he thought about it and was honest, he didn’t understand why it was so important to Kona and Gia to be here now, seeing Luka like this.
“This isn’t my brother,” Kona said, his voice breaking through Kai’s solitary thoughts. His cousin stood with Keira’s hand clutched in his, gripping it like every bit of strength he found to speak came from her touch alone. “Luka isn’t stuck in a grave on a small hill next to a lake.” Kai caught Keira’s nod, and the smile that moved her mouth up. The way she looked at Kona reminded Kai of someone, though he couldn’t place it right away. There was a lot of devotion there, loyalty too. He saw the same looks shooting back at her from her husband, from her children as well.
“I don’t like to think about what might have been,” Kona continued. “What happened to my brother, happened for a reason.” He rubbed his neck, sighing before he continued. “I don’t claim to be a theologian. I know nothing about God or what happens when we die, but I know that love doesn’t end when we do. I know it doesn’t stop.” He shot a look at Gia, offering Kai’s wife a smile, then to the man himself and he felt simple and foolish for not moving sooner. With everyone watching, he stood behind Gia, kissing her cheek before she turned, taking the baby from her husband and welcoming their daughter to stand next to her.
“I know that I see my brother every day in my son’s smile. I