Breadfruit

by Célestine Vaite

Genres: Cultural Heritage; Literary Fiction; Women's Fiction

Synopsis

When a drunken Pito proposes to Materena, she initially thinks it's just the booze talking. As she nevertheless starts planning, she juggles everyday life only to have Pito act as though he's forgotten his proposal.

Release date: May 9, 2009

Publisher: Back Bay Books

Print pages: 368

Sample

“Would a few hours in Tahiti lift the spirits? In Frangipani, Célestine Vaite has created the perfect guide: Materena Mahi, professional housecleaner and mother of three.… Materena’s
journey from cleaner to Tahiti’s answer to Oprah makes for the most memorable debut for a character since The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency introduced Precious Ramotswe to the world.… Generous and funny, Frangipani offers all the warmth and delight of a tropical vacation, without the jet lag. Best of all, there are two sequels to come.”


— Yvonne Zipp, Christian Science Monitor

“This engaging debut novel—the first in a trilogy—is a winning tale of mothers and daughters.”

— People

“This delightful novel speaks to the universal nature of the mother-daughter experience. Even though Célestine Vaite writes
of Tahiti, a place I’ve never been and a culture with which I’m entirely unfamiliar, I felt as if she were writing about me,
my own daughters, and my own mother.”


— Ayelet Waldman, author of Love and Other Impossible Pursuits

“Vaite renders a vision of Tahiti which leaps off the page.”

— Jenna Price, Canberra Times

“Frangipani picks out the cadences of daily life on Tahiti’s main island of Papeete. The whisk-whisk of a cleaner’s broom, the fusion
of languages—French, English, Tahitian—and the banter of cousins who meet in the street form the score for this tropical island
comedy of manners.… Vaite serves her culture well by taking us into the kitchens of those fibro shacks where we can hear
their travails in a chatty narrative. Generously, Frangipani gives us Gauguin’s women in their off-hours.”


— Victoria Kelly, San Francisco Chronicle

“Written in the same good-natured tone as Alexander McCall Smith’s bestsellers, Vaite’s novel is replete with local customs
and lore, some of which are truly bizarre. Gossip and endless love intrigues seem to be what makes Tahiti tick, and Vaite
captures, with admirable warmth and humor, the eccentricities of her homeland.”


— Cameron Woodhead, Age

“Frangipani is a feast. It is bursting with vitality and charm.”


— Michael McGirr, Sydney Morning Herald

“Vaite takes us beyond the resort compounds into the rhythms and rivalries of a tropical culture. A novel about two strong
women, Frangipani testifies to the necessity of upholding traditions and defying them too.”


— Carrington Alvarez, Elle

“A warm and lyrical look at the fabric of family life in Tahiti. Vaite uses words to paint a vivid Tahitian landscape worthy
of a Gauguin painting and delivers a memorable story about big dreams on a small island. Vaite has crafted an unforgettable
heroine: Materena is passionate, clever, and never without words of wisdom or a bit of folklore to share with a troubled soul.
By the end, the reader is left wanting more, more, more. The good news: there are two more installments to come.”


— Kirkus Reviews

“Frangipani celebrates women of all generations, affectionately portraying their strength, resilience, and humor. The tale is told in
enchanting episodes that give a glimpse into Tahitian life and a loving insight into the hopes and dreams that shape the relationships
between mothers and daughters.… Bubbling with humor, gossip, and worldly advice, Frangipani is a delight.”


— Jody Lee, Good Reading

“A story told in charming episodes, brimming with the wisdom of a strong Tahitian cultural history.… It is a style that
transports the reader to a land rich in breadfruit and traditional stories.”


— Australian Bookseller & Publisher

“Vaite, a Tahitian living in Australia and an established literary force in that country, makes her American debut with this
lovely and transcendent mother-daughter story.… An intriguing slice of Tahitian life.”


— Debbie Bogenschutz, Library Journal

“I read Frangipani in one sitting, falling in love with the characters. Célestine Vaite writes about the bond between mothers and daughters
with such truth and tenderness. I loved reading about the struggle between Materena and Leilani, even when it made me cry.
There are no hopes and dreams like those of a mother for her daughter, and Ms. Vaite made them so real, I found myself missing
my mother terribly.”


— Luanne Rice

“Vaite writes with great depth of character and style. She manages to convey the warmth, humor, and delight of the Tahitian
lifestyle.”


— Melbourne Weekly

“Frangipani, set in Tahiti, is billed as a novel that portrays a mother-daughter relationship, but it’s more than that, much more.… The characters speak breathlessly, and the narrative voice is filled with morsels of Tahitian life.… A delightful read.”



— Joanne Kiggins, Blogcritics.org

“In lilting language rife with many a charming Tahitian saying, Vaite presents an archetypal story of mother-daughter conflict.… Conveying a deep respect for women’s strength and peppered with catchy aphorisms, this funny and moving mother-daughter
story should have wide appeal.”


— Joanne Wilkinson, Booklist

Materena likes movies about love.


When there’s a love movie on the television, Materena sits on the sofa, her hands crossed, and her eyes focused on the TV
screen. She doesn’t broom or cut her toenails, she doesn’t iron, or fold clothes. She doesn’t do anything except concentrate
on the movie.


Movies about love move Materena and sometimes it happens that she imagines she’s the heroine.

The love movie tonight is about a woman who loves a man with a passion, but, unfortunately, she has to marry another man—it’s
the plan of her parents. Her future husband is not bad-looking or mean. It’s just that she feels nothing for that man. When
she looks at him, it’s like she’s looking at a tree—whereas when she looks at the man she loves, her heart goes boom, boom, she wants to kiss him, and she wants to hold him tight.


The woman in the movie meets the man she loves one last time—it is a day before her grandiose wedding, and he’s leaving for
a faraway country, never to return, because it’s too much for him to bear to stay in the neighborhood. It’s easier for him
to just disappear.


The lovers meet behind a thick hedge. They kiss, they embrace, then he falls to his knees and declares: “I will love you till
I die, till I die, I swear to God, you are the center of my universe, my guiding light, the only one.”


The heroine hides her face in her gloved hands and bursts into tears. There’s violin music, and a tear escapes from the corner
of Materena’s eye. She’s sad for the woman. She can feel the pain.


“Poor her,” Materena sighs.

“Zero movie! What a load of crap!” This is Pito’s comment.

In his opinion, there is too much crying in that movie, too much carrying-on, no action. And the man, what a bébé la la—wake up to yourself.


“Well, go read your Akim comic in the kitchen.” Materena wipes her eyes with her pareu.

But Pito is too comfortable on the sofa, and he wants to watch the end of that silly movie. Materena wishes she could transport
Pito somewhere else. He’s been annoying her ever since the movie started with his comments and sighs.


Pito doesn’t like movies about love. He prefers cowboy movies, movies with action and as little talking as possible.

The movie is near the end and Materena hopes Pito is not going to spoil it with a stupid remark. Materena needs complete silence.
The end of a love movie is very crucial. There’s a lot of tension. In Materena’s mind, the heroine will be reunited with the
man she loves, but love movies don’t always end the way Materena would like them to end.


There’s the grandiose wedding and it is clear to Materena that the bride’s thoughts are not in the church. She keeps looking
back, waiting for the man she loves to appear and rescue her. Materena can guess it. Materena expects the man to barge into
the church at any second too, but he’s far away, riding on his horse. Materena says in her head, Eh, go get the woman you
love, you idiot. But he keeps on riding that horse.


And meanwhile, to Materena’s sadness, the heroine becomes the wife of the man she doesn’t love.

Confetti greets the newlyweds outside the church and doves are set free. The heroine watches the doves fly toward the gray
sky.


It is the end of the movie and Materena is really annoyed, she prefers happy endings. She listens to the soft melody of the
piano during the credits and reads the names of the principal actors. It reminds her that the sad story is only a movie and
not the reality.


After the final credits have finished, she switches the TV off.

“Zero movie!” Pito gets off the sofa like he weighs over two hundred pounds.

Materena tidies up the living room.

“Zero movie!” Pito is now making himself comfortable in the bed.

Materena pulls the bedcover her way and rolls to the far side of the bed.

“I tell you, Materena, if I was the man in the movie, I tell you, if it was I, the man . . .” Pito says he would have snatched
the woman and escaped with her on the horse.


“Yes, okay. Good night.” Materena is not listening to Pito anymore.

She closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep. And she dreams she has to marry the man in the movie, but the man she loves is
Pito. She’s in the church, about to pronounce “I do,” when the door of the church swings open. It is Pito.


He is on a horse and he’s wearing cowboy clothes and a cowboy hat.

People stare as Pito makes his way to the altar, they also stare at the horse.

Pito grabs Materena by the waist and he says to the man she’s supposed to marry, “Listen, that woman, she’s for me—you go
look for another woman, okay?” Pito has a fierce look on his face.


Pito and Materena ride out of the church, they ride far away, far away, to the desert.

When Materena wakes up, she’s laughing.

By eleven o’clock that night, Materena, scrubbing her oven, is still laughing about her dream—the part when Pito barges into
the church on a horse, wearing a Stetson! Can you imagine?


Well, Materena might as well laugh now, because once Pito is home from the bar, she won’t be laughing at all. He’ll be drunk,
talk a lot of nothing, as usual, and get on her nerves. Last time he was drunk, he went on about how he had to push women
away—they were all over him and all he wanted to do was drink his beer at the bar and talk with his colleagues about fishing.


Here he comes now, Materena can hear him fumbling with the door.

“Materena!” Pito bursts out as he lurches through the doorway. “Ahhh, Materena,” he slurs, red-eyed, swaying on his feet. “Marry me,
Materena.”


Materena just smiles at him, all the while scrubbing her oven.

“Are you going to marry me or what?” Pito looks like he’s going to fall on her.

“All right, okay.” Materena drops the scrubbing brush as he pins her in his arms. She’s got to get Pito into bed before he
wakes up the kids.


Five minutes later, Pito is in bed, unconscious and snoring. And Materena is glad. She isn’t going to take his marriage proposal
seriously. Ah no. A ring on her finger, it’s not an obsession. In her opinion, they’re like a married couple, anyway—they
share a bed and they share the kitchen table. He’s her man, she’s his woman, and it’s no different from being husband and
wife. She doesn’t need a ring on her finger and a framed marriage certificate displayed on the wall. Materena goes back to
her oven. She scrubs, and thinks back to the day she met Pito.


When she was sixteen years old, Materena worked at the local snack during the school holidays. Pito came to the snack one
afternoon with a friend, Ati.


Aue, when Materena first laid her eyes on Pito, she liked the look of him instantly. It’s not that he was the most handsome man
her eyes had ever seen, but there was something about him.


Pito wanted a ham sandwich, so Materena made him a ham sandwich. Pito took it and gave Materena his money. He looked at her,
but it was like she didn’t exist. The other fellow gave her the interested look, but she wasn’t interested in him. She served
him and went on serving the other customers, but every now and then her interested eyes would drift to the sexy man wearing
the ripped T-shirt.


When Pito left, Materena wanted to follow him. His friend winked at her, but she gave him a dirty look. She didn’t want him
to think that she was interested in him, because then he would tell Pito.


The next day, Materena agonized in front of the mirror, trying to do a complicated style with her hair instead of the usual
chignon. But it was hopeless. She’d never bothered with a complicated hairstyle before, it had always been the same chignon,
since the age of eight years old. She got so frustrated she felt like ripping her hair out. In the end, she decorated her
chignon with tiare Tahiti flowers, and Loana, Materena’s mother, got mad because the flowers were reserved for the Virgin
Mary, Understanding Woman. Materena had to take every single flower out of her chignon and put it back in the bowl next to
the statue of the Virgin Mary.


Pito didn’t come to the snack that day. In fact, a whole week passed before he made another appearance. When he did, Materena
was very nervous.


“Ham sandwich?” she asked, wanting to show Pito that she remembered him.

He gave her a smile.

It was impossible for Materena to do her job after that. The afternoon was a total disaster, and the boss yelled at her quite
a few times.


But Pito came to the snack the following day.

And the next.

A little laughter, a little giggle, eyes meeting eyes, and all kinds of ideas coming into their heads. The boss was forced
to remind Materena that her job wasn’t to giggle but to make sandwiches. The boss gave Pito a dirty look, but she couldn’t
tell him to stop coming to her snack just because he was making Materena soft in the head. He also ate a lot of sandwiches.
He was a very good customer.


Pito finally arranged a rendezvous with Materena for nine o’clock at the frangipani tree behind the bank. As soon as Materena
got home from work, she went into the bathroom to scrub her hands to get rid of the onion smell.


At eight thirty, she was in bed.

By quarter to nine, she was sneaking out the window and over the side fence.

And there was Pito, waiting for her under the frangipani tree—with a rolled quilt in his arms.

They talked for about two seconds.

Then his mouth touched her mouth… and that was the end of Materena the good Catholic girl.

She had discovered sexy loving.

Loana had warned Materena that if she ever found out about a boyfriend from the coconut radio and not from Materena herself,
there would be syrup—meaning that Materena would get a couple of slaps across the face.


Materena didn’t pay attention to her mother’s threat. She was too hooked on Pito to care about slaps and other punishments.
As far as Materena was concerned, she was going to keep on meeting Pito at the frangipani tree until… well, until he
decided to get serious.


Three weeks after their secret meetings began, Pito announced to Materena that he was leaving Tahiti for France to do military
service and that he’d be gone for two years.


Materena was devastated with the news. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow,” Pito replied.

“Tomorrow!” Materena was even more devastated.

She held on to Pito and promised she would be at the airport to bid him farewell. But Pito told Materena not to worry about
going because there were too many of his relatives going to the airport already.


Materena didn’t insist. It was clear to her that Pito didn’t want her at the airport meeting all his relatives and, above
all, his mama. It was much too soon for a formal introduction to his mama.


“At what time is your plane leaving?” Materena asked.

Pito’s plane was leaving at two in the morning.

“And are you going to write to me?” Materena was hoping that Pito would say, “Of course I’m going to write to you!”

“We’ll see,” Pito said.

Materena started to cry.

“I’ve got to go home and pack.” Pito rolled the quilt.

He kissed Materena and Materena kissed him back with all her heart and soul.

“Take care,” Pito said.

“I’m going to wait for you.” Materena couldn’t stop the tears.

When she got home, Loana was still watching the TV. Materena wanted to ask her about going to the airport to bid Pito farewell,
but she sneaked into her bedroom instead and snuggled up to the pillows. She couldn’t ask her mother for advice about Pito,
since Loana didn’t even know there was a Pito.


By midnight Materena’s mind was made up. She took a shell necklace off the nail in the living room and ran to the airport.

There was a crowd: sleeping babies in their mothers’ arms, children running around playing ticktack, and, most of all, crying
mamas holding on to smiling young men with too many shell necklaces hanging around their neck.


And there was Pito.

A big mama was crying her heart out as she held on to him, and every now and then a relative would try to drape a shell necklace
on Pito, but the big mama wouldn’t let go of him.


Pito looked so handsome, dressed in navy blue pants and a white shirt. Materena wanted so much to go over to him, but she
just stayed half-hidden behind a pillar and watched him. It was enough that Pito had to deal with his crying mother.


Materena stayed at the airport until Pito’s plane took off, and as she ran back to her house still clutching her shell necklace,
she thought about how two years were like an eternity.


Two years passed, two long years thinking about Pito nonstop, and Materena finished school and started her career as a professional
cleaner. She was waiting for a truck home from the market one day when Pito walked straight past her. He was thinner and paler.


“Pito!” Materena was ecstatic. She couldn’t believe her eyes.

Pito stopped walking and turned around. Materena was about to go and jump on him, but a voice in her head told her that she
best not make a fool of herself in front of all those people waiting for a truck, because it looked like Pito wasn’t going
to open his arms to her. He expressed no emotion at all when he saw her. Materena thought perhaps he didn’t recognize her.


“It’s me, Materena.” Materena was all smiles.

“I know it’s you,” Pito said. “And are you fine?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Materena replied. “And you? Are you fine?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“So, you’re back from France?” Materena asked, all the while telling herself that she was so stupid, asking this question.
She could see Pito with her own two eyes. Of course he was back from France.


“I came back two days ago,” Pito said, then excused himself. He had to rush off somewhere.

“Okay,” Materena said, as if she didn’t care that Pito couldn’t spare five minutes to talk to her. “I’m in a hurry too.”

Materena jumped into the first available truck and thought about the two years she’d wasted longing for Pito, that fa’aoru, that snob! Two years of waiting for a letter from him, a package, a telegram, and not looking once at another man! She had
been faithful to Pito.


Materena’s mind was made up about Pito. He belonged to the past and she was going to start looking for someone for the future.

But how could Materena forget Pito when she kept bumping into him? It was as if God was putting Pito in her path. She’d be
at the market waiting for a truck and Pito would walk straight past her or she’d see him standing on the other side of the
street. She’d be in a shop and Pito would walk into the same shop. She’d be eating at a snack and two seconds later Pito would
appear. Pito would always raise his eyebrows to her—meaning, hello. And Materena would smile at Pito. But there was no conversation.


One night, Materena asked God if it was his plan to always put Pito in her path. And if it was, could God give her a little
sign? And the very next day Materena literally bumped into Pito as she stepped off the truck. This was a good enough sign
for her. Their faces just inches away from each other, she asked, “Are you doing anything tonight?”


That’s how Materena and Pito began to meet again at the frangipani tree behind the bank in the middle of the night.

These secret rendezvous went on for weeks. Materena told Pito all about her family: her hardworking mother, her brother, who
was working on a pearl farm in Manihi, the French father she’d never met. And Pito told Materena about his three brothers,
his father, who had died, and his mother, who liked to pick up leaves with a leaf pick. Pito and Materena talked about all
sorts of other things too, from the weather to fishing.


After a while it seemed to Materena that Pito was getting serious about her. One night she mentioned to Pito the possibility
of him meeting her mother, as Materena was a bit fiu of having to sneak out of her bedroom and only meeting her boyfriend in the dark. Materena felt it was time for her mother
to know about Pito, since Materena was past eighteen years old now and very serious about him.


“I’m not ready,” Pito said.

“Mamie isn’t going to eat you, she’s really nice.”

“It’s not that, Materena. I’m just not ready.”

“Ready for what? All you have to do is say iaorana to my mother.”


“Eh.” Pito was in a bad mood now. “I don’t want to meet your mother, okay? When you meet the mother, that’s it, you have to
get serious.”


“Okay then,” Materena said. “Don’t meet my mother. I’m not going to force you.”

“Well, you can’t force me anyway. I don’t like to be bossed around.”

“Yes, that’s what I said. I’m not going to force you.” Materena got up to go home. She was cranky, but not for too long. She
understood that Pito just needed time to get used to the idea of meeting her mother.


Several weeks later, Materena was suspecting a pregnancy. She bought a pregnancy kit and locked herself in the bathroom. She
sat on the toilet and read the instructions, which took her almost an hour, since she had never used a pregnancy kit before.
Then Materena got a sample of her urine into the jar and put the tester in it. She counted up to sixty, retrieved the tester,
and carefully laid it on the floor.


Then she started to pray. But she wasn’t quite sure what prayer she was supposed to pray. She wanted to be pregnant, as she
loved Pito, and at the same time she didn’t want to be pregnant.


The pregnancy test was positive, and Materena cried her eyes out because she was happy but at the same time she wasn’t happy.

Loana didn’t react well to the news of her daughter being pregnant. She had said to Materena, and many times too, “Don’t make
me a grandmother before I’m at least past fifty years old.” And here she was, about to become a grandmother before the age
of forty, when she thought Materena was still a virgin.


Loana made Materena tell her who had got her pregnant, and two hours later, Materena, Loana, and Pito’s mother, Mama Roti,
were in a meeting.


“Pito didn’t tell me about a girl he got pregnant.” Mama Roti looked at Materena in the eye and Materena felt like crawling
under the couch.


Loana looked at Mama Roti in the eye to show her that she wasn’t intimidated at all. “He doesn’t know about the baby yet.”

“What are you expecting from my son?” Mama Roti asked.

“We’re not expecting anything. We’re just here to talk,” Loana replied calmly.

So the two mothers talked, getting more and more annoyed with each other, until Mama Roti said, “Well, maybe you should tie
your girl to a tree at night.”


That was the end of the meeting. Loana got to her feet and commanded Materena to do the same.

At that precise moment, Pito appeared. He looked at Materena, he looked at Loana, and then he looked at his mother. She explained
the situation, and Pito didn’t shout with joy, like they do in the movies.


“Ah, it’s you, Pito.” Loana looked at him up and down like she didn’t think much of him. “Well, now you know that you got
my girl pregnant, and good day to you two people.”


Materena didn’t go to the frangipani tree that night or the following night, or the next, but she waited for Pito to come
and see her. And every single day, Loana said, “Girl, waiting for a man is like waiting for a chicken to have teeth.”


When Pito came over a week later to ask Materena to move in with him, Loana informed him that her daughter was going nowhere.
She was staying right where she was.


“With respect,” Pito said, “I’m talking to Materena, not you.”

“Do I look like a mother who doesn’t care about her daughter?” Loana snapped.

Pito and Loana then both stared at Materena for a comment, and Materena felt like the tomato between the lettuce and the cucumber.

“You two talk,” Loana said to Materena. “I’m going out the back. But if you decide to leave this house, don’t expect me to
help you pack.”


Pito sat next to Materena on the sofa. Materena longed for him to take her in his arms, but she could see that he was chamboulé by the situation. So they talked about their living arrangement, with Materena saying that she couldn’t leave her mother
and Pito saying that he couldn’t leave his mother.


After a while, Pito stood up to leave, saying, “I’ll just come to visit you.”

Pito was there when Materena got her first contractions, at nine thirty in the morning. He ran to catch the truck home to
get his mama and they both came back with a cousin, who drove Materena and Loana to the hospital.


When they got to the hospital, a nurse led Materena to the delivery room for an examination. Pito, his mama, and Loana sat
on the bench in the corridor. Hours later, after Loana had inquired several times about her daughter, a nurse finally came
to inform them that the baby was definitely coming today.


“You better go to Materena,” Loana said to Pito.

“No, it’s okay, she’ll be fine,” he replied.

Mama Roti decided to agree with her son. “In my day, men just stayed outside.”

“Yes,” Loana snapped. “In your day… but we’re not in your day now.”

Loana commanded Pito to go to Materena, because a man should see these things.

“It’s fine,” Pito insisted.

But a nurse came to get Pito because Materena wanted him to see the baby come out.

So Pito saw his son being born, turning green every time the midwife yelled, “Push, girl. Push like you’re doing a big caca.
Push!” And when Materena moaned, “Ah hia hia, it’s hurting,” he didn’t know what he was supposed to do.


Tamatoa was born at eighteen past two in the afternoon and. . .