Fuck that.
I stroked her horrible, butchered hair until I was calm enough to speak. And then I gently touched her face. "That was a cruel, heartless thing to ask of me. You're asking me to walk out of here and leave you alone?" She smiled as if she was pleased as if I'd finally got it. "No!"
"Kai," she said, her face falling again. "I can't do this. Please, you have to understand. It's too much this time." Her eyes filled with tears and she closed them, swallowing hard.
"This has happened before?"
She nodded, barely, and I fell back on the pillows. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Oh, we're talking about it," I said. "I've put up with your evasive answers and your refusal to discuss anything but 'the moment' ever since I met you. Enough. I need you to tell me what's going on."
"It's only happened four other times," she said, opening her eyes. "The last time was two years ago."
"Have you tried to hurt yourself before?"
“Yes.”
"Why didn't you tell me? Didn't you trust me?"
She wiped at the tears on her cheeks and with great effort lifted her arms so they covered her face. "I thought it wouldn't happen again. I always think it won't happen again. But then, Garrett.."
"Is this what he wanted you to tell me? That day you called him from Lana'i?"
She lifted an arm and peeked out from under her elbow, nodding. "I thought you heard. I wanted you to, so you'd ask me about it. But you never said a word. So I didn't, either."
"I'm sorry. I should have."
"It doesn't matter now," she said, the words coming out in wretched jagged gasps. "I need to go."
"Tess." I rolled onto my side and slid an arm under her, pulling her to me. She was boneless, a rag doll, and she flopped against my chest without protest. "You are going to get better. You're going to play your violin again, and swim in the sea, and cook, and make love, and be happy."
Her face pressed against my chest and her hands clutched the fabric of my shirt in her fists. But she said nothing.
"I need you to listen, Tess, okay? This, right now, this is not your life. This is one, brief, painful, shitty moment. There are wonderful moments ahead. I know you can't see them. But I can. I can see them for both of us."
Her hands stilled on my back. I wasn't sure if she was listening or if she'd gone to sleep and suddenly it didn't matter anyway. I decided I would say all of the things that had been waiting, impatient and restless in my heart. How much I wanted to leave the island. The fact that I believed I never would. The fear that I wore like a cloak every time I went home to Onakea, wondering if that would be the day I'd find my father hanging from a tree with a rope around his neck. The loneliness that crept up on me when I least expected it, like a small, cold pebble just under my ribs. The way it came when I was performing or out with friends, reminding me that although I was surrounded by people, no one in my life understood me. The way I had fallen in love with her too hard, too quickly, just as my father had before me. And how much the thought of losing her scared me. I spoke for an hour or more in my own language, feeling safe in the knowledge that she wouldn't understand, even if she was listening.
She was awake when we heard the knock on the door. She flinched and pushed away from me, sitting up and swinging her legs out of bed. "Did you call someone?"
The clock said it was after nine, I'd called my dad hours ago. "No."
"Then who is that?" she said, narrowing her eyes. "Did you call the police?"
I sat up and walked to the door. "Of course not. Wait here and I'll see who it is."
She shook her head and lay down again, angrily pulling the covers up to her neck. "I can't believe you."
"Kai?" came a muffled voice from the door. "Kai, are you in there?"
I pulled open the door and stood back, time suddenly grinding to a halt for a second. Because he was there. It had taken five hours and he looked like he'd aged ten years but he'd done it. "Did you drive here?" I said, shutting the door behind him. "Pa, are you okay?"
He walked to the bed, sitting down at Tessa's feet. "Can I have a drink of water?"
I opened the bar fridge and handed him a bottle and he opened it, draining it in one go. "I can't believe you did it," I said, taking the empty bottle from him. "How?"
He wiped his mouth with his hand. "I had to stop a lot." I shook my head in disbelief and he gave me a small smile before turning his attention to Tess. "Do you love this girl?"
I nodded.
"Then let's take her home."
I felt myself letting go as tears filled my eyes. "Pa."
"''Ae?"
"Thank you."
He stood up and put his hands in his pockets as he surveyed the room. I wondered what he saw after spending almost twenty years in the same house, the same rooms. He grunted. "Carpet hasn't changed."
I managed a laugh that sounded more like a sob and behind me, Tess stirred in the bed. Dad noticed her moving and walked over to her, kneeling down on the floor at her side.
"You have been on a long, difficult journey," he said, as he placed a hand on her head. "It's time to rest, now." She looked up at him and gulped back her tears. "Come, we're taking you home."
I watched, unable to believe that he was there and desperately hoping that Tess would agree to leave with us. She said nothing for a few seconds and then finally, she nodded. Dad stood up and gathered her things and then I scooped her up, holding her against my chest as I carried her down the steps to the car that would take us home.
We put her in the yellow room because it caught the sun in the mornings and it was my mother's favorite place in the house. She said that it was impossible to be anything but happy in that room because the prettiness and the light chased all of the sadness away. I hoped she was right. Pete was waiting at the kitchen table when we arrived home. She glanced at him when he said a brief hello, but she wouldn't speak, and other than that flash of recognition, her face was blank. There was only a daybed in the yellow room; old and narrow and pushed under the window facing the garden. In a flash, I saw my mother lying there on her side, reading in the gilded afternoon light. It had been a long time since I’d been in that room. I lay Tessa down and covered her. She stretched her legs, her toes touching the end.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, pulling a hand from under the sheet to clasp mine. "I'm so sorry."
I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed the back of it, the bones like twigs against my lips. "There's nothing to be sorry for."
She shook her head, a beam of silver moonlight spilling across her face and her eyes blinking away tears in the darkness. "What's going to happen?"
"You're going to get better," I said, rising up onto my knees and kissing her gently on the lips. "You both are."
Chapter Thirty Five
It was just after dawn when I woke up. I rolled onto my side and watched her sleep in the bluish light of the room, her chest rising and falling in a comfortable, steady rhythm. The muscles in my back ached and the skin covering my hip bone felt numb and prickly from where it had pressed through the thin camp mattress to the floor. I'd been restless and anxious throughout the night, waking to check on Tessa every couple of hours. But despite my hovering, she'd fallen asleep almost instantly and had slept soundly
When I heard Akamu's door open, I snuck out, meeting him in the hall with a finger over my lips. His face split into a grin when he saw me and he hurried off to the kitchen so that we could talk. I told him that Dipper was still sad and that I had brought her home so that we could take care of her. He listened as he ate his toast, stealing excited glances over his shoulder as if just by looking he could magically make her appear. But her bedroom door remained closed all of that morning and he went off to his new job with a disappointed frown on his face.
"Tess," I said, much later, touching her cheek. "Wake up."
She pulled the sheet over her shoulder. "I'm awake."
"Feel like eating?"
She opened her eyes; they were still sad, but the redness and weariness had gone. "Not really."
"You've been out all day. I was getting worried that you'd starve to death in your sleep."
She blinked at me and tucked her hair behind her ear. "You need to stop worrying."
"Can't," I whispered. "You're so thin, Tess."
"Kai," she said, "I don't want to intrude on your dad's life. This is his house.”
I lifted back the covers and pulled her up by her hands. "We want you here. All of us."
She ran her fingers through her hair and pulled on the robe I found in her bag. "I don’t feel well."
"I know."
"I want to talk to Garrett."
"I know, honey. Come and eat."
She walked to the door on wobbly legs, her hand grazing the wall for support. Dad was waiting for her at his place at the table. "I put some sugar in it," he said, sliding a cup of tea to her. "It will help."
She took a quick sip.
"Kailano,” he said, pulling out a chair for me to sit on. "In English.”
I nodded.
“Manu iki, Aloha mai no, aloha aku; o ka huhu ka mea e ola 'ole ai.”
“Little bird,” I said, turning to her. “When love is given, love should be returned; anger gives no life.”
“Ae,” Dad said.
“It means, love inspires love,” I said. “Anger only hurts the angry.”
She kept her eyes down, pushing her toast around the plate. Dad touched her arm. "You’re only harming yourself, Tessa. Garrett loved you. Use it, and give the love back.”
She shifted awkwardly in her seat. “I understand what you’re saying. But can’t get rid of the feeling.”
“We will help you,” he said, handing her a piece of cold toast. “And I think you may be able to help me, too."
She glanced up. "How?"
"We could talk."
"That's it?"
"For now."
I poured myself a coffee and took a steady breath. I had a feeling she wasn't going to like what I was about to say. "Dad's doctor is coming up this afternoon. We've asked her to stay a bit longer so she can meet you."
Her head swung in my direction. "Why?"
"Because I'm worried. Please, Tess. It's just to talk."
She ripped a corner off her triangle of toast, taking a small bite and chewing it slowly. "Who is she?"
"She's a psychiatrist. She's been seeing Dad for years. You'll like her."
She took another bite, and another one, and I felt myself slowly relaxing against the chair.
When she'd finished, Dad collected her plate and took it to the sink. "It's cloudy out," he said, stooping down and peering out the window. "Let's walk."
She glanced at me uncertainly. "I'll just get changed," she said, standing up. "Kai, can you come with me?"
Dad walked toward the door. "I'll be in the kitchen garden. Meet me there when you're done."
"I don't know what he wants from me," she said as soon as we were back in the yellow room. "I can’t help him. I don't even know what his problem is."
I shut the door behind us and walked to her, threading my arms around her waist. She leaned in and rested her face on my chest. "He hasn't left the property since he brought Akamu home," I said, running my hand up and down her back.
"He hasn't been anywhere since Akamu was six?"
"That's right."
"How did that happen?"
How had it happened? Slowly. Insipidly. Without anyone even noticing.
"He was different after he got back. He felt ashamed, I guess. He was scared of losing the property. He was born here. I think it all just got to be too much." I looked out the window to where Dad pottered around in the kitchen garden, pinching bugs off leaves and poking about in the dirt with a stick. "He started spending all day in his office. He didn't want to talk to anyone, or go anywhere. At first, he made excuses so he could stay home. He'd say he was busy, or sick, or tired, and no one ever pushed it. No one pushed anything with my dad. And then I guess we all got used to it. He runs the business from here and he's got me. I manage his workers for him and take care of anything he needs in town."
She stepped out of my arms and sat down on the bed. "I think I understand it now."
"Understand what?"
She patted the mattress next to her. "You. Everything."
I put my arm around her shoulder and kissed the side of her head. "It's okay. It's a good life here. You said it yourself. It's paradise."
"But it's not what you want, is it?"
We sat there in silence, listening to the honeycreeper birds feed on the ʻōhiʻa lehua tree outside her open window as her question wound its way around the room. After a minute, she lightly placed her hand on my leg.
"No," I said at last, resting my hand on top of hers and threading our fingers together. "It's not what I want."
I stayed on the lanai with my guitar while Tess walked across the gravel driveway to the flower beds and the kitchen garden beyond. I saw my father in the distance, bending down as he picked something out of the lettuce beds. He stood up and put his hands in his pockets when Tess made it to the garden gate and then they walked off toward the fruit trees, side by side. They were gone for a long time. I saw them twice as they made their way up through the closest part of the orchard, but just when I thought they were making their way to the house they would turn around and disappear into the trees again. Each time I saw them, my dad's head was down, watching his footsteps as he walked. I couldn't see if either of them was speaking, but I hoped that they were.
"Hi," I said when Tess walked rounded the corner and walked up the steps.
Dad stayed at the bottom and waited until I turned in his direction before speaking. "I'm going to visit the mango trees."
I met his eye. "It's still the same, Pa."
"I know. When Akamu gets home, tell him where to find me."
I put down the guitar and looked at Tess, hoping to see something on her face that said she was feeling better. But she was much the same; tired, thin, distraught.
"What time is the doctor going to be here?" she said, shuffling back on the bench seat after Dad walked away.
"She called to say she's running late. It won't be until five now."
She followed my gaze to where my father followed the path near the banana trees, and leaned in, resting her head on my shoulder. "Kai? What does kaikamahine mean?"
I watched until he was out of sight, stroking the tops of her fingers with my thumb. "Is that what he called you?" She nodded her head against my shoulder. "It means daughter,” I told her in a low voice, my eyes on the trees. “Kaikamahine means daughter."
Chapter Thirty Six
We spent the rest of the afternoon curled up together on my old childhood bed. I talked to her about the places on the island I hadn't shown her yet; the beaches blanketed with gritty, black sand; the roadside stall that sells pork wrapped in taro leaves; Molokini island, small and rocky, and shaped like a crescent moon. She listened, unmoving, as she stared out the window
"Why haven't you changed this room?" she said after a long spell of silence. "You sleep here all the time. Why have you kept this bed?"
I lifted my head. The wooden frame was badly chipped and covered in stickers. The same blankets I'd had as a child sat folded at the end. "I guess because if I redo this room, it will feel like I live here."
"You do live here. How many nights have you spent at your house this week?"
I kissed the back of her head. "None."
"And now that I'm here, are you going to stay, too?"
"Probably," I admitted. "Definitely."
"I'm one more person holding you back, aren't I?" she said. "How ironic."
I shuffled back as far as I could without falling off and rolled her onto her back, kissing her gently. Her lips parted slightly under mine and that familiar ache immediately rushed in. I missed her. It wasn't just her body, it was her laughter, her easy smile, the
way Akamu looked at her when she told him her stories. And most of all it was the way she made me feel. With Tess, I believed that who I really was, was good enough for her. I ran my thumb over her eyebrows, down over the slope of her nose. And I kissed her again. "You're not holding me back."
There was a discreet rap at the door followed by my dad's voice letting Tess know that he had finished with Dr. Frania. We got up and she smoothed down her hair, cringing when her fingers felt the ragged edges at the bottom.
"We can fix that," I said, pulling her hand away. "It's just hair."
She stole a quick glance in the mirror above the tallboy and set her jaw. "Let's get this over and done with."
Her real name was Dr. Frania Wojciechowski but either for convenience or because she was sick of people butchering her surname, she had been known as Dr. Frania for as long as anyone on the island could remember. She emigrated from Poland in the 1970s and had never married, choosing to live alone instead in a small cottage near the end of the beach. I guessed she must have been old, but Dr. Frania was always ageless to me. She was tall for a woman, with long, thin limbs and straight silver hair that she wore loose down her back. Soulful eyes softened her birdlike face. She was a kamaaina, a long time resident, and we all liked her very much.
Dr. Frania came to visit us regularly. By the time Tessa came to live with us, seeing her little white hatchback parked under the shade of the hala tree was such a familiar sight that I barely even registered it anymore. In fact, I struggled to remember a time when she hadn't been a part of our lives.
When we walked in, she stood up from her spot on the sofa and smoothed down her skirt, smiling warmly. "I'm Frania," she said. "You must be Tessa."
Tess cleared her throat. "Hello."
They sat down on the sofa, rearranging the cushions until they were comfortable.
"Stop hovering, Kai," she said, without looking at me. She raised her eyebrows at Tess. "Is he always this annoying?"
Tess rolled her eyes quickly and Dr. Frania smiled. "Out. You don't need to worry. I'll take good care of her, and you have her back in an hour. Okay?"
The 'Ohana Tree Page 21