The Flaming Luau of Death by Jerrilyn Farmer Read Free Book Online

Hawaiian music (the elderly gentleman had now moved on to the sliding steel guitar), the sunset, and all our cares and woes rushing sievelike from our happy brains, I detected some concern there. Holly didn’t look as calm as she might have. “Did you tell Donald about that guy you found in your room?”
    “No, no, no. I’d never.” Holly was wearing her hair swept up and held with a big cubic zirconia–encrusted clip. Her fluffy blond wisps took on a halo-glow whenbacklit by so many tiki torches. “That’s over. That’s done. Why worry him?”
    “So everything is okay?”
    “Pretty much,” Holly said. “It’s just, well, remember what we were talking about this morning? About my three problems.”
    “Oh, right.”
    “When I heard Donald’s voice, I figured why put it off?” Then she lowered her voice to a whisper. “You know. About Marvin. And the prom. And the…” She ran out of words.
    I offered “…fact you might be married?”
    She nodded.
    I hoped, for Donald’s sake, they’d at least had a good cell connection. “Wow.”
    “I figured,” Holly said, off of my reaction, “he could mull it over, you know, over the weekend.”
    “Mulling is good.”
    “Right,” she said, sounding much more cheerful to get my agreement. “And then when I get home, we’ll figure it out. He’ll be fine. I told him to chill.” Holly grinned and gave the Hawaiian hand signal “hang loose!”
    I hoped really hard that Donald Lake was finding it in himself to be the hang-loose type. He was a nice guy and all, but a little midwestern-suburbs, parents-belong-to-a-friendly-church, iron-his-own-shirts kind of nice. And Holly was not making it easy on him, what with this other husband.
    “Okay, sweetie,” I said, trying not to sound stressed.
    “You hang loose too, Mad.” Holly grinned down at me, looking quite happy.
    Well, I’d try. Really, really hard.
    For one thing, I was finally a guest at one of my ownüber-parties, and it was really fun just being along for the ride. My work was done. I had arranged all the details of Holly’s luau from the mainland by calling on a few caterers I knew on the Big Island and getting their advice. Wes and I had hired a lot of help, and I had nothing to do now but take my own party advice and leave the work to the pros.
    “I mean this, Mad,” Holly said. “You need to catch the aloha spirit here. You gotta let yourself go. Do something crazy. Why not?”
    Just then the photographer we’d hired to shoot the party came up with her camera and smiled.
    “Madeline,” Holly said, draping her thin sunburned arm across my shoulder in a girlfriend hug of good cheer, “look at us.” She squeezed me.
    “We look hot,” I said.
    “And where are we?”
    “In freaking Hawaii.”
    “This is the most amazing party you have ever pulled off, Mad. Ever. I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe you and Wes brought all my homegirls to Hawaii! I can’t believe all this fabulousness is just for me!”
    “You deserve it, Holly.” My eyes suddenly had tears. She was so sweet. And at that exact moment, me misting up like a dork, the photographer’s camera flashed.
    Looking around the beach, blinking out the dark ghosts from the bright flash, I just had to smile. Among the glowing tiki torches, several tables had been swathed to the ground in yards of white hibiscus flowers splashed on red cotton. The tables were topped with ti leaves, soon to be graced with platters piled high with hibachigrilled mahimahi and steak. In the gentle breeze, the heavenly scent of grilling meats was everywhere as two steamy chefs kept the food turning on the spit.
    Holly released my shoulder and ran off, laughing. She joined her sister Gladiola, who was flirting with one of the tanned men working the grill. Five sisters. All blond. All over the age of twenty-one. All single. It was a miracle Holly’s dad wasn’t in some quiet mental facility by now.
    More as a guest, now, than a party queen, I