Page 22 of The Seashell of ’Ohana

“I’m so glad you’re here.” I let the tears fall onto my pillow. I didn’t want my sister to see me like this, but she was the only person I’d allow myself to be vulnerable around.

Kate patted my shoulder in a steady rhythm, like a mother to a child. “I’ve never noticed that seashell by Steve’s photo. Did you just put that there?”

I wiped my tears. “I went to the beach by myself on Steve’s death anniversary. I was talking to him, and this seashell floated to me from the sea. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s a gift from him to me. See how it looks like an angel’s wings?”

I let out an odd sound between crying and laughing.

Kate reached over and touched the snow-white shell. “Now it’s my turn to sound crazy, but you know how I’m all about fate and stuff. I believe in signs, and maybe someone is trying to communicate with you. Tune into it. It might help you with whatever is troubling you. And, Abby, I don’t know much about shells, but I know for sure that one is called an angel wing.” She bit her bottom lip. “Maybe Steve is trying to send you a message.”

Chapter Eight — ‘Ohana

“Hello, sweetheart.” Steve’s voice was jubilant.

Was I dreaming? I had to be.

I rolled to my side and rubbed my eyes. Steve was lying next to me, his face mashed into the pillow. He wore the red and green checkered PJs I had bought for all three of us the Christmas before he’d passed. Tyler had been one year old then, and we had taken a picture, a photo I’d cherished.

I stared at his face—his thick eyebrows, sharp nose, one dimple on his left cheek, and those stunning green eyes. I had hoped Tyler would inherit Steve’s eye color, but he had gotten mine instead.

“Abby.” Steve grinned. Plump cheeks and healthy skin replaced the pale, sunken face that pancreatic cancer had left him with. It had stolen so much from him and from all of us.

A divine light engulfed him. He looked content and peaceful in our bed, where he belonged. I knew I was dreaming, but I reached for him anyway. I wanted to hold him and keep him with me as long as I could, but my arms swiped at empty space.

It had been a while since I'd dreamed of him. This one felt too real, especially when he said my name. Maybe his death had been the dream—a nightmare—and when I awoke, he would be sleeping next to me. But he began to fade.

“Steve. Stay. Don’t leave me.” My voice rose in desperation, and I reached out for him again.

“Be happy, sweetheart.”

“Abby? Abby.” Not Steve’s voice.

A hand gripped my shoulder, shaking gently. “Abby. Abby.”

I flashed my eyes open to see my sister’s concerned face inches from mine. “Kate?”

“Sorry. You were dreaming. What were you dreaming about?”

I parted my lips to tell her, but then I didn’t. As simple as the dream was, it had been intimate and real. I wanted to keep it to myself.

“I can’t remember.” I sat up and ran a hand through my hair, feeling dazed. I needed a moment to get my bearings.

Footsteps pounded across the hall. A crack in the door opened wider, and Tyler pushed through.

“I heard voices.” He squinted in confusion. “Auntie Kate?” He vaulted onto the bed and plopped between Kate and me. “What are you doing here?”

Kate squeezed him and kissed his cheek with an exaggerated plop. “Muah. I spent the night.”

“You did?” Tyler crawled backward to the edge of the bed, landed on the hardwood floor with a thud, and straightened his pirate pajama top.

“Hey, where’s my good morning hug and my kiss?” I crossed my arms and pouted.

He blinked and pointed at the seashell. “Wow. That’s a new seashell. That one is special. ‘Ohana. Nobody gets left behind or forgotten. That’s a quote from Lilo and Stitch movie. When did you get that, Mom?”

“‘Ohana?” I said, ignoring his question. He didn’t need to know his mother had gone to the beach alone.

Kate slid off the bed and straightened her side of the blanket. “Lee told me ‘ohana means family, but not necessary by blood. The people are bound together by compassion, loyalty, and love for each other. To be someone’s ‘ohana is a great honor. We came to earth to be together and will continue to do so after this life. Nobody gets left behind or forgotten. It is the spirit of ‘ohana.”

“I love that,” I said softly.