The Ohana Part 32

"He has a strange way of showing us his love," Susan replied.

"There's a condo I thought of buying as an investment. Maybe I'll buy it and let you live in it and pay me rent."

"Not the same," Susan protested. "I'd still be dependent on you."

"You have to go somewhere, right?"

"Right." Susan sat on the edge of the bed.

"The condo is a good investment. And you can save me the trouble of finding a tenant."

"Oh, Mom, you're wonderful. I love you."

Mary stroked her hair. "He doesn't really mean what he says."

Susan looked up "Then why does he say and do such awful things?"

Mary sat next to her daughter. "He gets mad and loses control of himself."

"I know. He was never taught control as a child because Grandma spoiled him rotten."

Mary frowned. "I never said that."

"But all the aunties do," Susan said.

Mary shook her head. "Try to understand him."

"Do you?"

"I think so. We've been married long enough now."

"I could never see why."

"Susan!" Mary stood.

Susan shrugged. "It's the truth. Why lie about it? Why do you stay married to him?"

"We've been married so long divorce would be more trouble than it's worth."

Susan grabbed her mother's hands. "But you could still find someone and be really happy for once."

"I'm too old. Change would be too much for me." Mary kissed Susan's forehead.

"So, instead, you just go on." Susan dropped her mother's hands.

"What else is there?" Mary cupped Susan's chin in her hands.

Susan shook her head. "I don't know."

Mary sighed. "You see, my dear daughter, it's not worth the effort to find out."

George Han rifled through the monthly statements and leaned back with a smile. "Well, after a predictably slow season this fall, it's gratifying to know that in December and January the Lotus Blossom did exceptionally well."

Mary didn't answer. She was staring out the window.

"Mary?" George asked.

"What?" Mary turned and looked at him with embarra.s.sment. "I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't really listening."

George leaned forward on his desk. He still felt protective of her even though she'd turned out to be a remarkably strong person with tremendous inner resources. Still, he couldn't help but recall the pregnant young woman who stood on the sidewalk with rice spilled all around her. Waves of regret engulfed him and he reminded himself she was his brother's wife.

"You've been distracted all morning. Is everything okay at home?" he asked.

Mary looked down at her nails. "Of course," she said.

"Mark's gambling," he began.

"It's under control," Mary nodded. "Really, it is. You mustn't be too harsh on Mark. It hurts his male pride that he has never been able to make as much as I do. I think it destroyed him. Mark wants to make just one big hit. It would make him feel more like a man."

"You're too good for him." George shook his head. "You deserve better."

"Don't say that, George. He's been good to me most of the time. Remember, he overlooked the fact I was kamikaze," Mary whispered.

George averted his eyes. "That was a long time ago. Anyway, if his gambling isn't upsetting you, what is?"

Mary looked at a picture of George's family on the wall. George was dressed in a suit and sat next to his wife Sarah who wore pearls and a Chanel suit she bought in Paris. Mary remembered how proud she was of her new wardrobe from Paris. George's sons stood behind their parents looking somber and uncomfortable in the suits Sarah had forced them to wear. They looked like a millionaire's family. "It's nothing, really. I shouldn't even be upset. Susan moved out."

"Kids nowadays want their freedom."

"I suppose." Mary bit her lip.

"Where's she living?" George asked.

"I put a down payment on a two bedroom condo near Iolani."

George shook his head. "Well, I wish I could say the same about Jeff. I've come to the conclusion he'll never leave. He's a spoiled brat tied to his Mama's ap.r.o.n strings." George was disappointed in his son. To hear Jeff talk, his only problem was that the entire world conspired against him. Everything was always someone else's fault. Could Jeff help it he was born to a father who went to prison and ignored and criticized him?

"I guess I'm just being overprotective." Mary paused and looked at the ledgers. "Looks like the future projections for the tourist industry are great. I guess we can look forward to a good year." She looked up.

"Yes, we've been lucky," George said.

Mary shifted in her seat. "No, we've worked very hard."

"That too." George handed her the ledgers.

Mary took them, tucked them into a manila file folder, and stuck it under her arm.

George left his chair and came around the desk to escort her out. When they got to the door, he put his hand on her upper arm. Mary winced then quickly tried to cover it up with a smile.

"What's the matter?" George demanded.

"Nothing. I banged into a wall and bruised myself."

George frowned. "Let me see."

Mary tried to move away. "It's nothing, I tell you."

"Let me see." George shoved the hem of her sleeve up, looked at her bruise, and swore.

Mary flushed. "It's no big deal."

George leaned against the doorframe. "Did Mark do that to you? Don't lie to me."

"You don't understand, George."

"Understand?" George punched the wall. "I understand that you're always making excuses for him. He's an animal."

"It's not his fault," Mary said softly.

"Not his fault?" George shook his head. "We're not kids anymore. There's no excuse."

Mary cried. "If I loved him the way he wanted me to, things would be different. The truth is I married him so he would take care of Jackie and me. Back then, he was a good provider. But now I'm the breadwinner."

"Only because all his business ventures failed," George pointed out.

"But at least he tried. Even though it was a money drain, he tried." Mary clenched her fist. It kills him that I work and support the family. It makes him feel less than a man. Maybe I should have quit a long time ago."

"Working for me was always an option," George replied. "So is divorce."

"I had to think of my children."

"They're not kids anymore," George said.

"In some ways, he's been a good father. As for the two of us, we've settled into our relationship." Mary dabbed her eyes.

"You know I love you," George said.

Mary looked away.

George turned her face toward him and stroked her cheek. "I loved you as a child because you were kind and beautiful. I love you now because there's no one else as strong and good."

Mary grabbed his hand by the wrist and held it away from her. "You're thirty years too late, George."

"We married the wrong people," George said softly.

Mary stepped backward. "I love Mark. Not the way he wants me to, but I love him."

George's face froze. "Forgive me. I forgot myself."

"There's nothing to forgive," Mary turned to leave.

"I'll always love you," George whispered after Mary walked out the door.

There were times Mary felt defeated. If it hadn't been for her children she would have nothing to live for. Their dreams became her dreams and their lives were more important to her than her own.

Her marriage was a charade. She and Mark had stopped sleeping together long ago. They lived in truce mode. She didn't want a divorce. She thought it was disgraceful when people her age divorced. Divorce was for young people who still had lives to live.

Sometimes, her mind wandered to the past and she thought about Mitsuo. Why did things happen the way they did? Did he love her too little? Was he too tied to his duty, to his family, and to the traditions that drove their lives? In the end, they both chose to pursue a safer world of mediocrity and sacrificed great love for the sake of tradition and family.

Now and then she even thought of Sean Duffy. How ironic that Susan worked for him. It was almost as if she and Sean were destined to continue to be in each other's lives. So close and yet so far, a song said.

Sometimes she took out the music box and tried to remember how it felt to completely lose oneself in making love so nothing and no one else existed. Winding the key at the bottom of the carousel, she set it down on the table and transported herself to that one elusive night when all they had was each other. When the song had played out, she placed the music box back in its hiding place and decided what happened that night was one of those mysteries in life that made no sense.

Chapter Forty-four.

Honolulu/Hana 1973 "Why didn't you tell me you were Steve's friend?" Sean asked Susan one morning as she brought him his morning coffee. It had come to him out of nowhere the night before. He had a feeling he'd met her somewhere before. Then he remembered Steve's going away party and his college friends.

"It didn't seem appropriate." Susan placed the coffee cup before him on his desk.

"Why?"

Susan stepped back and looked at her fingers. "Rumor has it the two of you don't communicate."

Sean leaned back in his chair. "Steve doesn't talk to anyone. I never understood his desire to go to Vietnam. I didn't try to stop him-I just didn't understand it. But, I had my reasons for volunteering in World War II and supposed he had his for 'Nam." He picked up his coffee, sipped it, and put it down again. "War changes people. Steve's no different. He moved to Hana and lives by sufferance on a spectacular site belonging to my sister-in-law."

Sean looked out the window at the palm trees. Odd how genes landed. Steve had always seemed more like Meg's child than Katherine's. They both lived in their dreams and refused to share their nightmares. Meg finally let someone in when she was in her forties; Sean hoped Steve wouldn't take that long.

He turned back to Susan. "I worry about him. He's a recluse." Sean leaned forward, elbows on his desk. "I know you were once good friends. Are you still?"

Susan shook her head. "I haven't seen or heard from him in years." She blinked at him. "But I suppose I'll always be his friend."

"I have a Maui trip scheduled in the next few weeks. Routine check of land trust property. Usually Jenny Liu checks up on the properties, but I'm sure she'll be glad not to go for the hundredth time. Would you mind taking her place and while you're there, go by and see my son?"

She raised a brow. "Why haven't you gone yourself?" she asked.

"I have no idea how he feels. I don't want our first meeting in years to be antagonistic. You understand, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, Susan. This is really important to me."