At seventeen, Koji wondered where this new boldness came from; he was always the quietest of the three. Franklin was the smooth talker, and Razor just the talker. Mariko remained silent, and he wondered if he’d said something wrong. There was only the rustling of leaves, the soft pluck of the mangoes as he pulled them from their stems.

“You know, this mango tree is special,” Mariko suddenly said, breaking the silence. He carried a filled basket down the ladder and placed the basket to the side. “It was grown from one of the seeds my grandfather brought over on the ship with him from Japan, from a tree that gave mangoes to generations of our family back in our ancestral village. When my grandfather arrived in Hilo and found out that all of his possessions stored on the ship had been sitting in seawater, he thought the seeds had been ruined. But he dried them and planted them anyway. And now, all these years later, the tree still gives us baskets of sweet mangoes every year.”

Koji pulled another mango off the branch. “Everyone knows your tree produces the sweetest mangoes on the island,” he agreed.

“I don’t know about that,” she’d said.

“Just speaking the truth, yeah,” Koji added. He leaned over and shook the branches. “The branches are still healthy and strong, eh, it should produce mangoes for years to come.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “That’s what Franklin says about you, that you’re strong and dependable.”

Koji hadn’t realized Frank talked to her about him, and he looked away flushed with embarrassment. He wondered then what else she knew.

“Don’t believe everything Franklin tells you,” he finally said. Koji cleared his throat and reached up to pull a few more mangoes off the tree, placing them carefully into the basket.

He had returned to pick mangoes with her every year since.

* * *

Koji rolled down the truck window and leaned back against the seat. The warm wind carried the sweet scent of wild kahili ginger from the yard. He looked up, heart jumping when he heard the door of the bungalow open, only this time it was Maile who stepped out onto the porch, followed by Daniel. Sweet Maile, he thought, she’ll save them both. Koji was lifted from his thoughts by the sight of her. The first time he met her, she was a thin, shy girl who could barely look him in the eyes. Now she was all grown up, looking straight at him with a welcoming gaze. Mariko had always liked her. She’s a smart girl, yeah, won’t let Daniel always have his way. She knew the pitfalls of being an only child. When the young couple broke up, Koji knew Mariko was equally as heartbroken, though she never showed it.