Hi guys!
I have been so incredibly excited to write this story. I was first inspired by the idea for it while on vacation in the Philippines, island-hopping on a little Bangka outrigger boat - the cool breeze, the mist off the water coming in - it was just magical! (And inspirational!)
Then when I came home, I thought about how Nicole Scherzinger who portrayed Grace Farrell in NBC's "Annie Live!" is of Hawaiian-Filipino-Ukranian-Polish descent. which is awesome and it's also no wonder why she's so stunning. THEN I remembered one of my favorite movie musical re-makes, South Pacific (2001) which starred Harry Connick Jr. as Lt. Joseph Cable and how beautiful the island setting was with him in it and putting all those things together, I started to create an idea in my head for a backstory for Harry and Nicole's specific portrayal of Oliver and Grace.
As much as I adore the musical "Annie" and am so grateful these wonderful characters were created, I do really love coming up with original ideas and backstories to further enhance the foundation of them as people and of their relationships to one another.
And so, with all that in mind - I really hope you enjoy "Two hearts in Honolulu".
Peace and love,
Renee.
...
1924
Hopping off the schooner, Oliver Warbucks wiped his brow - the rays of the hot Hawaiian sun already getting to him.
"Oliver!" He heard a voice call out to him and he squinted along the white sandy beach until he spotted the open-shirted, scraggly looking man approaching with his hand extended.
"Roscoe", he greeted the man in turn and shook his hand.
"Welcome to Hawaii!" Roscoe grinned excitedly.
Roscoe Goodbehere was an old pal of Oliver's from his sailing days. A profession he'd given up a good decade and a half prior in favor of more lucrative opportunities. Opportunities which saw Oliver Warbucks become a millionaire at the age of twenty-one.
One such more recent opportunity had Oliver reaching out to his old shipmate whom he knew had taken up residence in tropical Honolulu. Oliver had been the proud owner of 12,000 acres of Hawaiian sugarcane since 1920. Now, four years later, the 36 year old multi-millionaire was finally able to make the trip to the island territory to see his investment first hand.
"How was the journey?" Roscoe asked his old friend.
"Couple'a hairy moments but nothing too frightening."
Roscoe cackled loudly. "Not for you and your sea legs I'd imagine. I'd swear you were a shark in a previous life."
"A shark in this life certainly, at least in terms of business that is", Oliver smirked and Roscoe chortled once again before directing two of his workers to pick up Oliver's suitcases and bring them up to his guest house.
As Oliver turned to make sure they had everything, his eyes caught sight of a breathtaking figure standing at the back of a large group of women who were there to welcome him. She appeared shy as she met his eyes, though she needn't have been. Of all the glorious sights on the island of Honolulu, she was by far the most sublime.
A woman closer to him came and laid a Lei around his neck, pulling Oliver's attention away. He smiled graciously at the traditional custom of welcoming.
By the time he looked back up, the woman who had caught his attention was already walking back up the beach. Oliver hoped that he would see her again during his stay on the island, even if from afar just to have the chance to admire her beauty from a distance.
He didn't know who she was but to his mind she had to be, without a doubt, the very jewel in the crown that was Hawaii.
…
Roscoe and Oliver sat in his kitchen, drinking rum and reminiscing about the old days for hours upon hours. Tomorrow would bring business as Oliver would be visiting his plantation for the first time in person and would have the chance to see the operation first hand. For now though, his friend Roscoe insisted that he needed to relax and enjoy some luxuries after a long three weeks at sea.
The men ate oysters and drank and laughed. Roscoe had always been a little bit out there for Oliver's taste but he had taken care of Oliver when he was just a fourteen year old lad in his first job as a cabin boy aboard the USS Nicholson.
He'd quickly worked his way up the ranks as a seaman and then eventually he started buying and trading entire fleets of ships - some of which he leased and sold to the U.S Navy. He was one of many who became a profiteer of the first world War and as this is how he came to make his first million dollars by the year 1919. This is also how he assumed the name "Warbucks".
Roscoe had never been able to keep up with Oliver's success - very few could of course, but Oliver had never forgotten his old friend and the part he'd played in helping Oliver to get his start.
"Well, I haven't slept properly in three weeks and I think if I try to stay awake any longer I'm going to start speaking complete and utter twaddle."
"Ha, too late my good man!" Roscoe jibed him.
"Blame it on the rum", Oliver slurred as he staggered.
"I blame everything on the rum!" Roscoe laughed. "Goodnight Oliver."
"Night Roscoe. Thanks again."
"Oh, oh…Oliver, Oliver, wait. I almost forgot. There's uh…a little surprise for you waiting in your cabin."
"Surprise? What kind of surprise?" Oliver asked suspiciously, recalling the tricks they used to play on each other while at sea.
"Consider it a "Welcome to Hawaii" gift", Roscoe grinned toothily.
Oliver shook his head, not sure yet if he should trust the other man. He decided to approach his quarters cautiously.
He staggered up the path to the guest house, then opened the door slowly and peered inside. He was not prepared for what he saw and wondered if he was so drunk that he could have been hallucinating.
There in his room stood the woman from the beach, the one who'd held him so transfixed. She stood before him now bathed only in the light of the moon and the soft candlelight that flickered beside the bed, making her appear ethereal, like a vision, like something in a dream.
"Hello", she said to him, her voice startling him somewhat to make him realize she was real and not just his intoxicated imagination.
"Hello", he whispered in return. He blinked in surprise at the softness of his own voice. It was as if this woman had him in a trance and he did not understand how or why when they had not even said more than two words between them.
She'd taken him completely by surprise. Usually he was so level headed and focused only on his business, yet she had completely derailed him.
"I saw you earlier didn't I? Down by the beach." He finally found the words to speak to her.
"Yes." She affirmed quietly.
"You uh…caught my eye instantly. You are very beautiful."
"Thank you", she smiled shyly. She blinked quickly. "So are you."
Oliver laughed lightly in amusement.
"I'm sorry, I should have said handsome. You're…You're very handsome."
"Well, there's beauty in many things, especially in this place. If you see some in me then all I can do is thank you."
"Actually that's not all you can do", she breathed and undid her dress, letting it slide off her shoulders and fall to the ground.
Oliver swallowed thickly, drinking her in with his eyes. "You're exquisite", he whispered.
"What does that mean?"
He neared her, a fire alight inside of him the likes of which he'd never known before. "It means this island is even more beautiful than I first thought."
…
When Oliver awoke the next morning, the woman who had appeared to him like some mysterious angel in the night was no longer in his arms where she'd been when he'd fallen asleep.
He sat up and looked around the room for a sign that she had in fact been real, that he hadn't just dreamed her.
And then he saw her, sitting by the window, gazing out into the vast North Pacific ocean. But she was no longer the temperate and magical goddess he'd seen the day before. Now she appeared before him, fragile and petite, hunched up crying as if she were a frightened child.
He moved slowly towards her, not wanting to frighten her any more.
"Miss, why are you crying?"
The woman's tear stained face shot up, she looked at him in alarm and remorse.
He noticed she was clutching herself below her stomach. With pain in his voice, he asked her, "Did I hurt you?"
Reticently and with tears in her eyes, she nodded.
Oliver's heart sank, he never intended to harm the poor girl. "I'm sorry."
"Th-the other woman on the island, they told me it could hurt the first time", she winced, trying to keep her dignity and not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. She knew how mad Mr. Goodbehere would be with her if she did anything to upset his honored guest.
Oliver's brow furrowed as he tried to understand what she meant. "You mean you…You'd never been to bed with a man before last night? Before…me?"
She dropped her eyes, shook her head. "Mr. Goodbehere wanted you to have a pure girl when you arrived."
Oliver's jaw dropped. He'd assumed she must have been a woman of experience. He had no idea she was a virgin. If she'd been in any discomfort the evening prior she'd done well to conceal it. Or perhaps he'd simply been too drunk and too enamored to notice.
"I am so sorry to have hurt you...truly I am", he professed.
"I'm hurt more in my soul than in my body", she wept, covering her face in remorse. "I made a promise to my Father that I would never give myself to a man unless I was married to him. I pray to God he isn't looking down on me with shame right now."
"If there's any shame to be had, it lies with me. I'm the cad who's defiled you", Oliver spat angrily, angry with himself and with his "pal" Roscoe.
Grace shook her head, tears still spilling from her eyes. "No, don't blame yourself. I-I didn't try to stop you."
"Well of course not, when you knew you'd be out of job once word got back to your boss. When presumably you thought I'd be angry and toss you out into the night." His jaw tightened as he realized how trapped she must have felt there with him, despite her display of confidence the night before. "I know it's too late now but I want to assure you that I never would have done such a thing. More than that, I'm taking you down to see Roscoe right now and I'm giving him a piece of my mind."
She was quick to protest. "Oh no, please don't do that."
"Why not?" Oliver frowned.
"Mr. Goodbehere and his wife took me in when I was young. My Father died suddenly when I was twelve and because he'd worked for Mr. Goodbehere for many years and I had no Mother, his wife decided they should take responsibility for me."
Oliver raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I never even knew Roscoe was married."
"She passed away from typhus six months ago. If she was still around, I don't think Roscoe would have asked me to…entertain you last night", she grimaced, not knowing how to delicately put what they had done. "Of course I've been working for them all these years to pay my way, keeping the house in order and running errands around the island for them. I even nursed Mrs. Goodbehere when she was ill, but in turn for my work, they've always protected me."
Oliver felt a wave of sickness in his stomach that had nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed the previous night. "Listen here, what Roscoe asked you to do is far and away from protecting you. You understand that, don't you?"
She fixed her eyes on him and told him flatly. "I have nowhere else to go."
"Well…don't worry about that. I'll arrange something for you."
"Mr. Warbucks, you don't have to do that!" The young woman cried in despair.
"Perhaps I don't…but I can and so I should", he said determinedly. "Unless of course you tell me you'd rather go back to him and find out what happens next. I suppose it's hardly right for me to make the decision for you."
Her bottom lip began to tremble, fresh tears filling her eyes once more. "It's just…I don't know what he might make me do now."
"It'll be alright", he reached out to touch her arm but she flinched, gasping as she pulled away from him. He looked into her eyes, a thousand apologies swimming in them for the trauma he'd undoubtedly caused her. She remained still as he gently tried placing his hand on her arm again and they both breathed a sigh of relief knowing that neither of them wanted the other to be afraid. "It'll be alright", he reassured her once more and after a few moments, she nodded her head, somehow believing him.
…
They walked down to the main house together and Oliver asked her to wait outside the door while he went in to speak to Roscoe.
The other man grinned when he saw him. "Aha! Here he is. How was your night? How'd you like your surprise?"
He'd planned on approaching his old friend cordially and with some level of understanding but Roscoe's pure cockiness and apparent disregard for the young woman he'd forced into spending the night with him, pushed Oliver too far. "You do realize that prostitution is illegal, don't you?" He asked Roscoe without pretense.
"Maybe in America. Things run differently here in Hawaii, Oliver. Don't you worry about it", the man snidely winked.
Close to losing his cool, but maintaining his composure, Oliver grabbed Roscoe harshly by the shoulder. "Roscoe, I think you're missing my point. It isn't the unlawfulness of it that bothers me, it's the immorality", the multi-millionaire hissed.
Roscoe grimaced in pain and confusion. "Immorality? Oliver, you and I are sailors. I have a gorgeous young woman living in my home and I thought you would appreciate first dibs on her."
His comment tipped Oliver over the edge, he shouted at the swine of a man furiously. "I'm not a sailor anymore, Roscoe! And she is not your property to give away!"
The man who used to be someone he looked up to cowered back in fear and Oliver saw him for how small he truly was. It was disappointing to say the least.
Panting heavily but letting Roscoe go, Oliver said, "Now. I'm going to leave now and I'm taking the girl with me. Somewhere she'll be safe, away from you."
The older man blinked in shock but didn't try to argue with him.
"Here", Oliver threw a wad of cash at him. "That's not because you deserve it or because she or I owe you anything. It's because I don't want you ever thinking that what you did last night was a favor to me. It wasn't." His lip curled up sourly. He shook his head at him. "I didn't know your wife at all and I don't know how much you truly cared for her but I think she'd be ashamed of you."
His words were cutting and perhaps unnecessarily cruel but Oliver felt so enraged and let down by the man he thought he knew.
He stormed out of the room without even a glance back at his fallen idol.
"Let's go", he murmured as he breezed past the young woman waiting by the door.
"Where are we going?" She asked in bewilderment.
"The Moana hotel."
Off of her look of hesitance, he added, "I'll get you your own room, don't worry."
In many ways, she felt ashamed and wanted to run away from this man as fast as she could. Not because he'd been unkind, not because she resented him, but because she felt responsible for making him feel such guilt. As if she'd entrapped him somehow. In another way though, she was extremely grateful to him for giving her a way out of the place she called home, which was now a place without safety for her.
"Mr. Warbucks…" she began, not really knowing what she should or even could say. Oliver took over for her anyway. "Whatever it is you have to say, I assure you it's alright Miss…" Oliver chuckled mirthlessly. "I don't even know your name."
"It's Grace", the young woman answered, falling into stride with him. "Grace Farrell."