"Well?"
"My dad can't look after Akamu on his own. They need me here. And I have a huge mortgage to pay so I have to keep doing the landscaping stuff. I have no savings, I can't afford to wait for a check to come through from the music label. If I don't get paid every week, I can't make my payments." I kissed her again. "It's a pretty good excuse. What's yours?"
She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling in silence. After a minute, she turned to face me. "If I agree to play seriously, will you think about taking Akamu with you to LA so you can make your album?"
I propped myself up on my elbow and rested my cheek in my hand. Her face was hopeful, thinking I was considering it, and for a brief moment I wanted to say yes just so that she would be happy.
"Akamu is safe here," I said, running my hand up and down her arm. "Out there, it's a big world, and not everyone will treat him like we do. It doesn't matter that he's different here. All he knows of the world is what we show him. We want to keep it that way."
She nodded, biting her lip, and moved her eyes away. "If that's what you think is best."
"It is."
"And then?"
"And then, what?"
"And then what happens to you? What happens when you're sixty years old and you're living up at Onakea still having bacon and eggs on Mondays and burgers at Grilled on Thursday nights?"
I lay back down next to her. "Then I guess I'll be content because I'll know that I'd given Aka the best life he could have had, and I'd looked after the land that was given to me."
I felt her move closer and then her cheek was against my chest. My words floated away and echoed around the room. They'd sounded noble enough as I said them. But they'd left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Chapter Twenty Three
"Wake up, lazy," I whispered, kissing the side of her head.
"No."
"Come on. I made breakfast."
She groaned, hiding her face under her arm. "Nope."
"What if I wake you up nicely?"
A small smile lifted the corner of her mouth so I slid my hand under her shirt across her belly. She stopped it with her other hand.
"I'm sore in places I didn't know it was possible to be sore," she said into her pillow, her eyes still closed. "So, again. Nope."
I laughed. "Are you really sore?"
She took her arm away from her face and opened one eye. "Only a little. It had been a pretty long time."
"How long?"
"Long enough for things to be sore!" She flopped onto her stomach and groaned into her pillow.
"You," I said, lighting smacking her butt, "are grumpy in the morning."
She propped herself up on her elbow and glared at me under a cloud of golden hair. "And you are annoyingly chipper."
"I am sorry that I hurt you, though," I said, bending down to kiss her as softly as I could. She made a noise against my mouth, something in between a laugh and a sigh.
"I'll survive. In fact, I might ask you to hurt me again, later."
I considered that for a moment, then remembered the food I had waiting on the table.
"Come on, get up, get up, get up."
"Why can't I eat in bed?"
I brushed her hair away from her face then kissed her again. "Because, we have a guest for breakfast this morning. So get up. And do up those buttons."
She glanced down at the shirt she was wearing, one-half of it open, exposing her breast. "You sure about that?"
"Very sure," I said when I reached the door. "But don't worry about pants."
She walked down the hallway a few minutes later, my shirt buttoned to her neck and rolled up at the sleeves. I smiled in approval when I saw that she'd kept her pants off, just as I'd asked. Her hair was a mess, tousled and sticking up slightly at the back.
"What's this?" she said when she walked up to the table. She saw the tablecloth and the plates I'd set out, her face breaking into a grin when she noticed the pile of pancakes on the kitchen counter. "When did you make pancakes?"
But I didn't have time to answer her because our guest had suddenly arrived.
"Dipper!"
Tess jumped and let out a squeak and I grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto my lap. Her eyes flew to the door then back to me. "What the hell? I thought you were joking about someone coming over!"
"Akamu is having pancakes with us," I said, resting my chin on her shoulder. "I hope that's okay." I pointed at the iPad I'd set up on the opposite side of the table. A big brown nose was pushed up to the screen. She leaned forward to see it better and gasped when she made out what it was.
"Should I get dressed?" she whispered. "Or at least, get off your lap??"
I wrapped an arm around her stomach and pulled her back against my chest. "No way."
"I'M HAVING PANCAKES BECAUSE IT'S TUESDAY," Akamu shouted. "I CAN SEE YOU DIPPER! I CAN SEE YOU AND KAI!"
"Aka, you don't have to scream at us," I said, pulling the iPad closer and leaning it up against a pitcher of water. "We can hear you."
"I can see your face, Kai," he said in an exaggerated whisper.
"Just talk normally. Like if we were at the table with you. And Aka, move the screen away from your face. All we can see is your nostril hair."
There was a thud and a shot of the ceiling, the table, and his fingers and then finally, there he was dressed already in a white short-sleeved business shirt and navy blue tie.
"Now I can see ME!" he cried, bending down to see the small image of himself on the screen. "I am very handsome today, Kai because I'm wearing my best clothes for work."
"Hi Akamu," Tess said, waving. She adjusted herself on my lap like she wanted to get off so I tightened my grip on her waist. "Have you got your pancakes?"
"I have three pancakes, Dipper, because I always like three. Because three is not too hungry and not too full. If you eat more than three, you might get a stomach ache but if you eat less than three, you will be hungry before lunch and then you'll wish you had more for breakfast."
"I'll get ours and we can eat them together," she said, glaring at my arm. I reluctantly slid it off and she hopped up to grab the plate off the counter.
Akamu was leaning forward again, squinting at the camera. "Where are your pants?"
I laughed, avoiding the death stare I knew Tessa was throwing my way.
Akamu put his hand over his mouth and giggled. "No. No pants."
"Good morning, Tessa," my dad called out from somewhere in the kitchen. "Please tell my son that he needs to call his uncle about the job. If he can find the time, that is."
She dropped her eyes to me, the heat creeping up her face and set the plate on the table in front of me a little harder than she needed to. I pulled out the chair next to me and she sat down burying her face in her hands. "Good morning, Mr. Onakea."
Under the table, I ran my palm up her thigh and she pinched the back of my hand, hard. I tried to catch her eye to let her know that it was okay, but she'd picked up her knife and fork and was concentrating on the pancake she was cutting.
"What's the plan for today, bud?" I said, shoving a forkful of pancake into my mouth. Akamu put his cutlery down and launched into a story about some new surfboards that took us through all the way to the end of breakfast. Tessa ate, nodding in the right places and even asked some questions about the boards that told me she'd been doing some research. Once we'd all finished eating, my dad's face appeared briefly, reminding Akamu that his ride to work would be there in five minutes.
"See you later, bro," I said, holding my hand up to the camera in a sideways 'thumbs up'. Akamu did the same and we pretended to press our thumbs together on the screen. It was something Akamu had made up when he was little. A way to say goodbye to someone when he wasn't comfortable with a hug. We hugged all the time now, I grabbed him even when he didn't feel like it, and most of the time he indulged me and hugged me back in his stiff, wooden way. But the thumb thing still remained.
"Well," Tess said, once the screen had gone black. "That was embarras
sing."
"Sorry. Not sorry."
"What?"
"They're just legs. He couldn't see your ass. He doesn't understand what it means that you're here, in my shirt, looking like you've spent all night being-"
"What about your dad?' she interrupted, standing up and collecting the plates.
"What about him?"
"He knew, Kai. He gave me a look."
"What kind of look?"
"One that said he knew exactly what I'd been doing with his son all night."
"Who cares."
"Umm, me? Because I have to see him again and look him in the face knowing that he thinks I'm a ho-bag?"
I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. "He doesn't think you're a ho-bag."
"Hmm."
I walked behind her, resting my hands on either side of the counter at her waist then bent down to kiss her neck. "I didn't mean to embarrass you," I said, biting her earlobe. "He's usually in his office at this time of the morning."
She pushed back against me a little. "You'll have to make it up to me."
"Will I?"
"Absolutely."
I pushed off the counter and lifted the bottom of the shirt, lowering myself so that I knelt on the floor. She'd changed into bright pink underwear, lacy, and ran my finger under the elastic. "Still sore?"
She spun around. "A little bit."
"That's a shame," I murmured, undoing the bottom buttons on her shirt and kissing her navel. "Do you think warm water would help?"
"I don't know." She put her hands on the top of my head. "Is that what you'd recommend?"
"I would."
I stood to my feet and put my hand on the back of her head, pulling her mouth to mine. My other hand slipped inside her shirt to the small of her waist.
"I'm going to run a bath," I said against her mouth. "And then we're going to get in it together."
"Easy," she said, pulling back. "Don't be too sexy or I might get used to it."
I stared at her mouth and grinned. "This is me going easy on you."
"Oh really?" she said, eyebrows raised. "You have more sexy than this?"
But I didn't answer. Instead, I led her to the bathroom and sat her on the step while I ran a bath. And when it was ready, I undressed her button by button. We slipped into the water and she moved silently onto my lap as my hands went to her hips. And because she was tender I made sure I was tender, too. I loved her slowly, our bodies making soft waves in the water and our sighs the only sounds in the room.
Chapter Twenty Four
"I have an idea," I said, sitting down next to her on the sofa after I'd just hung up the phone. She was lying back reading an old magazine she'd found somewhere and when I sat down, she propped her feet up on my knees.
"Definitely not, Kai. No way. My body needs a rest."
"Not that," I said, squeezing her foot. "I just spoke to my uncle and the job at the hotel is going to take another week."
"Really?" she frowned, dropping the magazine into her lap. "That sucks."
"Do you want to stay with me? We can have this house for the week. I know you have work, but I'm on pretty good terms with your Manager and I reckon I can convince him to give you the time off."
Her eyes widened in surprise and then a cloud of disappointment made its way across her face. "I need the money I get from working, Kai. I'm saving for a plane ticket, remember?"
I didn't remember because we'd never discussed her leaving in such hard, practical terms before. Whenever she mentioned it, it was always in an abstract way, something in the far off future. Up until then she'd made it easy for me not to think about it. I swallowed, feeling stupid. Of course, she was saving for a plane ticket.
"Well," I said, an idea just coming into my head, "I need a laborer on my team. I was going to hire one of the local guys but the job is yours if you want it. The pay will be better than what you earn at Makai."
She lifted an eyebrow and stared at me. "You want to hire me as a laborer?"
"Only if you think you can handle the work. The guys will do the heavy lifting but you'll have to do just as much work as them. More, probably, since some of them will try to give you a hard time."
She fingered the pages of the magazine on her chest and met my eyes. "What's the pay?"
"Eight hundred for the week. You interested?"
She raised her eyebrows. "That sounds like more than a laborer gets paid."
"It's the same as I'm paying the men. The hotel is being generous because they want the job done fast."
"Okay, then," she said, lifting her legs off my lap and sitting up. "If Akamu and Garrett are fine with it then I'll stay."
I tried and failed to keep the goofy grin off my face. "Good. Do you want to call Garrett, or should I?"
"I will," she said, holding her hand out for my phone and standing up. "Give me two minutes and then I reckon we should get out of here, go for a walk or something." She disappeared down the hall and I heard the bedroom door click shut.
I sat back on the sofa and tried to ignore the feeling creeping up inside my chest. There was nothing wrong with her wanting privacy to make her call. For all I knew she had other things to talk to him about that had nothing to do with me. It still felt strange, though, to be so intimate with someone, to feel so close to them, and yet know in your gut that there were parts of them that you didn't understand. Parts that they may never share with you. Her voice drifted down the hallway, soft and muffled but still audible. The house was originally one big room and when my friend bought it, he decided to section it off. Only, he'd used whatever scrap materials he could find and the walls were thin and uninsulated, most of them not even reaching all the way to the ceiling. The result was a house that had no soundproofing at all. I stood up and made my way to the front door, planning to sit out on the landing until she came to find me. If she'd wanted privacy, then it was obviously for a reason. I didn't want to be the guy who listens in and then pretends he hasn't heard a word.
And yet.
The inflection in her voice changed ever so slightly, moving from friendly banter to a more urgent, pleading tone. I wondered briefly if Garrett was refusing to give her the time off but then her words broke through, loud and clear.
"I know, I know. I'll tell him. Soon. I promise, okay? Just give me this week."
My hand was on the doorknob ready to open the door but something had happened. My arm refused to work and the knob refused to turn.
"If I haven't told him by the time we get back then you can do it. Satisfied?"
She was almost shouting now. I took my hand off the knob and stepped away from the door, unsure of what to do. She must have known I could hear her. But then, she was at the other end of the house. I knew too well the false security a closed door offered. Akamu had interrupted my dad and I going at it often enough. Before I made a decision about whether to stay or go, the door opened and she poked her head around the wall.
"I'll just get my shoes. He's okay with it, by the way. He said hello."
"That's great," I managed, searching her face for any clues about what was going on. But she was happy and relaxed, her face lifting in a smile as she turned to go.
We walked down the steep, winding road from the house to the main road in silence. The air was thick and wet with coming rain and it was hot, making my t-shirt feel damp as soon as we walked outside. Tessa hummed as she walked, stopping a few times to pick up a leaf or a fallen flower, and slipping them into the pocket of her skirt. I wanted to just ask her - what's the thing, Tess? But there was no way to do it without her knowing that I'd overheard her conversation. Instead, I made a mental list of the things I planned to find out about her over the next week - her birthday, her middle name, her favorite band, what she wanted to be when she grew up, knowing all the while that none of it was important anyway. Because what did dates and names and bands and jobs matter when you already knew someone's heart?
"Hey there, thinky thinky," she said, nudging me with
her elbow. "You doing okay over there?"
We'd reached the main road and she was standing at the crossroads, wondering which direction to take. I tugged her hand, pulling her left and we continued down the street.
"I was just thinking about what I want to be when I grow up." It wasn't entirely true, but it was close enough.
"Oh no," she said, squeezing my hand. "That's a horrible thing to think about."
"Is it?" I said, "why?"
She frowned and kicked at a stone in front of her. "Because. It makes you think that what you're doing right now isn't good enough."
"What if it isn't?"
"Then you do something else. But don't pin all your future happiness on getting some job one day. If you live like that you're just going to miss all of the other possibilities. And," she said, lifting her face to the sky, "when you get there you'll probably be disappointed. Too much build up."
"So you don't believe in goals?"
"Hmm," she said. "I don't know. I have things I want to do, I guess. But I don't have lists and action plans and things I'm ticking off. I like to think of them as 'maybes'."
"Maybes?"
"Yeah. Like maybe I'll go to France next year and help my friend Mathieu harvest grapes at his family's vineyard. Or maybe I'll go back to Japan and pick up my Japanese studies again."
"You speak Japanese?"
She grinned. "Maybe I speak Japanese."
"Cute."
We walked until the road broke off again and I put my arm around her shoulder, leading her down toward the water. "What's your middle name?"
"Kerenhappuch."
"Pretty."
She winked. "It's biblical."
I gave her a look. "It is not."
"It is! One of Job's daughters. I stayed with a religious family when I was fourteen and we read the old testament every morning with breakfast."
"Kerenhappuch?"
"Okay, I don't have a middle name. That I know of. My mom never told me that I had one, anyway."
I pulled her closer and bent to kiss her head, a warm feeling of contentment rising in my chest. We were talking.
"So, I'm curious," I said when we reached the beach. "how does it work exactly?"
The 'Ohana Tree Page 15