Letters to Hank

Chapter Two

Hazel breathed in the Hawaiian breeze with her chocolate eyes closed. Her son, James, stood shin-deep in the ocean, a wide smile revealing his four front teeth. Alfred, her husband, held their son by the hands to keep the toddler stable as a wave tickled his thighs. The sky bled with hues of oranges, reds, and pinks as the ocean crept up the beach.

"Hank would love this," she said, a hint of grief tugging at her voice.

Many years ago, that statement would have been true. Hank was the happiest man she had ever known. Hazel thanked God every morning that Henry Gordon was her brother. But then the war...

"I'm sure he would," Alfred said flatly, sweeping the boy into his arms. "Come on, Hazey. We have dinner reservations at six-thirty."

"I'll bet he's waiting for that postcard."

Alfred sighed. "You ought to write it. But wait until after dinner, alright?"

Hazel nodded. All throughout the beachside meal, she mulled over everything she intended to tell Hank. She hardly held a conversation with Alfred, her excitement draining onto her brother instead of her husband.

"Oh, Alfred, I hope he's not lonely by himself," she said on the walk back to the hotel room. "I worry about him, sometimes."

Alfred, James asleep on his shoulder, clutched his wife's hand. "He's fine. I think he prefers being alone."

"Not until after the war. When he was younger, he couldn't go a day without seeing one of his friends."

"He's changed since then." Alfred stopped and pressed a gentle kiss to Hazel's lips. "Don't worry about Henry. He's more than capable of caring for himself."

Once James was asleep, surrounded by pillows on the bed, and Alfred snored quietly, Hazel stepped out onto the small deck and sat at a small, glass table. Using a black pen with the hotel's name printed on it, she began writing.

Hank—

We've seen four islands so far and all of them have been beautiful. Visited a Macadamia nut farm on Moloka'I and are trying Hawaiian coffee today. Tomorrow volcanic craters, etc. Plenty of pineapples.

Love, Hazel

With a childish grin, Hazel stepped back inside and set the postcard on the desk. She slipped into pajamas and crawled beside her husband. With a smile sealed on her lips, she slept peacefully.