Page 33 of His Hawaiian Heart (Stateside Doms #26)

A chuckle had me looking over to see an older gentleman in the aisle seat.

“Not quite. It seems the clouds are playing bumper cars. Nothing to fear. Just a bit of turbulence.”

“Oh… umm, I guess I fell asleep. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Flights always go faster if you’re able to sleep through them.”

“I’m sorry for being such a boring travel companion,” I said.

“There’s no need to apologize. It’s never easy to leave paradise, and especially not when that includes leaving the ones we love behind.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard a truer statement,” I said, my bottom lip quivering as I made a conscious effort not to burst into tears.

He smiled and reached into his pocket and pulled out a cloth and offered it to me. “I couldn’t help but notice your family at the gate. It was quite obvious you are very much loved. Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners? My name is Harry.”

Harry.

Forget trying, it was futile. I let the tears fall and used the handkerchief to mop them off my cheeks.

If he thought I was nuts, he never showed it.

Instead, he’d patted my back as I’d sobbed and by the time the plane had taxied to the terminal at Narita International Airport and finally stopped, I knew I’d made another friend.

Harry was a retired professor who lived on the Big Island and was going to Japan to visit his granddaughter who’d just had her first child.

He chuckled when I told him about my own Harriett who’d married her Harry and my Samuel who had married me, Samantha.

The rest of the trip had been so much easier.

As people started unfastening their seat belts and gathering their things.

I bent to drag my backpack from under the seat in front of me and shoved my things inside it.

Harry stood and stepped back to allow me out into the aisle.

“May I hug you?” I asked.

“I’d like nothing more,” he said with a soft smile. When we pulled apart, he asked, “Can I help you get anything from the overhead bin?”

“Thank you, but my husband checked my bag. Are you going to luggage claim?”

“No, I travel light”—he pulled a suitcase from the bin above our seats—“but I’ll walk with you through Passport Control if you’d like.”

“I’d love that, thanks.”

Once we’d cleared Passport Control, he said, “I know this is going to sound odd, but I’m very glad for the turbulence.”

“Why?”

“Because it woke you up in time for us to chat. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Samantha. I wish you success on your research and want to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For your efforts in helping your fellow man.”

I was touched and hugged him again. “I’m glad I woke in time to meet you too, Harry.

Thank you for helping me. Have a wonderful visit with your granddaughter and great-grandson.

And promise me, when you return to the islands, you will call?

I know my family would love to have you over.

Besides, I’ll need to return your handkerchief. ”

He chuckled. “You can keep it but I promise, I won’t forget. And remember, saying goodbye is hard, but it does tend to make saying hello again all that much sweeter.”

“That’s a much better way to think of it. Thank you, Harry.” With a wave, we parted and I headed for luggage claim as he moved toward the line at Customs. I ducked into the ladies room and after using the bathroom, grimaced at the woman in the mirror staring back at me.

“Harry, you’re a true gentleman.” I dug through my backpack for a brush.

Sleeping in headphones and an eye mask hadn’t helped my appearance.

After doing the best I could to freshen up, I followed other travelers toward the blinking light denoting the location of the luggage carousel.

As bags slid down the ramp, I had to swallow a lump in my throat as I thought of how much I missed my old bag with all those beautiful, colorful stickers.

That lump grew larger as the sight of the caterpillar that had brought my husband to me.

Mr. Eupithecia seemed to wink at me as my suitcase came closer.

I grabbed it and moved away a few steps before stopping to pull my cellphone from my backpack to call my husband who answered on the first ring which made my heart ache.

“Hi, it’s me. I’ve landed, I’m safe and”—I had to pause as tears threatened again—“I already miss you so much.”

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around, babygirl.”

I turned and then blinked, then shut my eyes, opened them and blinked again and then, well, I burst into tears.

Sam caught me as I leapt into his arms.

When he finally slid me down his body, I refused to let go of his neck but he didn’t rush me. He pressed his forehead to mine and smiled.

“Breathe,” he whispered and, just like that, all was right with my world again,

It took several more minutes before I was positive I wasn’t dreaming. Of course, all the kisses we’d shared helped at least a bit.

“I must look awful,” I said.

“You couldn’t look awful if you tried,” Sam said as he pushed my hair away from my face.

“And you said you never lie.”

He smiled and shook his head. “You might not look your best at the moment, but you’ll always be beautiful to me.”

“How did you even get here?”

He laughed. “The same way you did. I bought a ticket and walked onto a plane.”

I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, why didn’t you just fly with me?”

“To be honest, I wanted to. I almost bought a ticket on your flight a dozen times, but I knew that one day we were going to have to face the fact that while I love you and you love me, you also love your job. I knew you’d been turning down opportunities to stay with me and I knew it was my turn to pull up my big-boy panties and stop being selfish and let you go do what you love. ”

I shook my head. “Frass.”

“Bugshit?”

I bit back a laugh, trying to maintain a straight face as he looked down at me. “Exactly. I might have bought that even though there were an awful lot of love this and that, except for one little detail.”

“Which is?”

“You don’t wear panties.”

His laugh drew looks but I didn’t care as the sound washed over me. When he began to wind down, I said, “Want to try that again?”

“Funny story”–he bent to grab my backpack and slung a strap over his shoulder and took the handle of my suitcase as we walked toward Customs—“We were in the car on the way home and suddenly this yen for sushi swept over me. And where is the home of sushi?”

“Japan.”

“Exactly!” he said as if I’d just answered the million-dollar question.

“So, you’re saying it was?—”

He added his voice to mine…

“Fate.”

The End