by Kay Hadashi
She waited in the terminal, watching passengers trickle through from the last flight of the day to arrive at Maui’s airport. Many of the lights were turned off, security guards yawning, airline agents gone for the day. The tourist souvenir vendors had closed. All she knew of the young woman she was there to meet was that she was a teenager and had dreadlocks. She would’ve had to pack in a hurry, which meant she’d stuff as much as she could in a backpack. Melanie had traveled the same way a few times at the same age. When she saw a suntanned girl come down the long terminal alone, black snakelike dreads pulled back and secured with a band, it had to be her. She wasn’t full-blooded Japanese, but a mix of some other race the way Melanie was. Small and curvaceous, she looked Filipino. The girl took one last swig from an airline juice container before tossing it away, the last thing in the bin before the airport custodian collected the trash.
Melanie stepped over and smiled. “You’re Georgianne Nakatani?”
“No. Georgie Torres.” The girl was pretty when she smiled, in spite of the heavy dreadlocks emerging from her head. “You’re Melanie?”
“I am. Let’s go to baggage claim to get the rest of your stuff. It won’t take long to get home at this time of night.”
“This is everything,” Georgie said, holding up her reusable shopping bag. There was barely enough for a change of clothes.
“You travel light.”
“More like getting out of the house as quick as possible.”
Soon they were out of the airport and on the way home to Ka’anapali.
“Have I hired a nanny or am I harboring a runaway?” Melanie asked.
“I’m legit. My mom knows what I’m doing and where I’ve come. Uncle Nate has my back.”
“But she doesn’t like the idea of you being here?”
“Not thrilled. But you’re a doctor and the mayor, I told her, and friends with Uncle Nate. Like, what can go wrong? Not like you’re a pusher or something.”
Melanie couldn’t help but laugh. “No, we’re not pushers.”
They stopped in Lahaina for a late dinner before going home.
“Just a few things to know right up front, and mostly about Thérèse. She is very rules-oriented. If you explain the point of a rule, she’ll follow it to a tee. If you tell her to do something just because you want her to, she’s as stubborn as a brick wall. She’s also one of the clumsiest kids you’ve ever met. She’s able to trip over a shadow on the floor, so she uses her tricycle to get around the house. She can go wherever she wants except the kitchen, and if she leaves it parked in a doorway, just tell her to move it to a new parking spot. She’s very obedient if you’re firm and look her in the eyes, but a little trickster if she senses weakness.”
“What about the baby?”
“Chance is a little charmer. He doesn’t cry much, but when he does, most of Maui knows about it. All he really needs in life is a clean diaper, some food, and a little cuddling before naptime, and he’s a happy camper.”
“If only the rest of us were that easy to please,” Georgianne said.
Once they got home, most of the lights were still on in the house. Going in the back door, they found Josh at the kitchen table.
“Mom?” he asked, looking at them.
“Um, no, sorry. Didn’t Doctor Hennessey call you?”
“He did. I was hoping Mom would come home.” Josh looked at Georgie. “Who’s this?”
“Georgianne Torres, Detective Nakatani’s niece. She’ll be filling in as our nanny for a while.”
Georgie shook Josh’s hand. “Call me Georgie. Can I meet the kids?”
“Hopefully, they’re asleep,” Melanie said, taking Georgie on a quick tour of the house. They peeked in on Thérèse, who was quietly playing with a toy.
“Hi, Momma.” Thérèse gave Georgie a long, hard look. “Who that?”
“This is Georgie. She’s going to be your new nanny.”
“Grandmother gone broked, huh?”
Before Melanie could, Georgie sat on the edge of the girl’s bed. “She’s not broken, just taking a time-out. Do you have time-outs at preschool?”
The girl nodded. “If we make trouble for teacher, we have to sit quiet. No can play with the other kids or talk or anything.”
“Well, from what I heard, your grandmother isn’t in trouble. She just wanted to sit quietly for a while. But what are you still doing awake? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“Jus’ waiting for Momma to come home.”
Georgie touched the toy in Thérèse’s hand. “Who’s your friend?”
“That’s Dino. He’s a dinosaur.”
“Does he talk?”
Thérèse clutched the toy more tightly. “Jus’ dinosaur kind talk.”
“Sounds like he’s a pretty good friend.”
“My bestest.”
Georgie pulled the sheet up to cover the girl and the toy. “I need to go meet your little brother and then your mother will come back to tuck you in, okay? Any secrets I need to know about Chance?”
Thérèse looked at her mother for a moment. “He doesn’t talk yet. Jus’ to me.”
Melanie took Georgie to where Chance was asleep in his crib. She watched as the girl checked the baby’s diaper and straightened the blanket. They talked for a while about the living arrangements, that once Chance was old enough, he would be moved into the room adjacent to Georgie’s, and they would share the bathroom between them. Melanie took pity on the girl when she began to yawn, and showed her to her room to unpack her few things. Going back to Thérèse’s room, she found her still awake.
“What did you think of Georgie?”
“She’s okay. No more Grandmother driving me places?”
“No more.”
“Grandmother gonna make the big sleep?”
“What makes you ask that, Sweetie?”
“Had to go to the hospital in a hurry.”
“Well, they’re taking really good care of her there, and pretty soon she should be able to come home again. Maybe tomorrow we can go see her after dinner. But what about your new nanny? She’s very young, huh? Think you’ll like her?”
The girl winced with one eye. “She gots snakes.”
“Sure does. I think they’re the kind that don’t bite.”
“Can I get snakes in my hair?”
“Nope. You have to comb your hair twice a day. Before school and before bed.”
“That’s a rule,” the girl said, yawning. “Brush my teeth and wash my face twice a day. And take a bath if I play in the mud. How long is Georgie gonna be here?”
“As long as we like her and she likes us. But time for you and Dino to go to sleep.”
“Tell me story? Please?”
Melanie sighed. “What kind?”
“Monster under the bridge.”
“Ooh, my favorite kind to tell,” Melanie said. “Well, one day, there was an old rickety bridge built from skinny sticks of wood. There was a little stream beneath it, where the frogs would play. Until the three-eyed stink monster came out from under the tree and chased the frogs to get an easy meal…”
***
“Okay, who is this Georgie girl and what bus station did you find her at?” Josh asked, once Melanie joined him in their bedroom. All the lights in the house were out and Pop had gone to bed.
“We don’t have bus stations on Maui. She’s Detective Nakatani’s niece and came from Honolulu this evening, just to check us out.”
“From the looks of her, more like she got kicked out of her parents’ home and needed a place to crash for a few days.”
“She doesn’t smoke, doesn’t drink, doesn’t do drugs, and isn’t pregnant. That’s a whole lot better than some of the applicants you and your father have brought in here. Otherwise, Tay seems to like her and she knew how to check the baby’s diaper. She has a driver’s license, and according to her uncle, she drives well and has never been in trouble.”
“Our nanny has to look like Medusa? Or wear half the jewelry store on
her face?”
“Josh, nobody hates dreadlocks more than I do, but I doubt they’ll get in the way of her job as nanny.” She wasn’t sure if she should bring up the subject of Georgie exploring other romance options than men, but left it for another time. “Why didn’t you and your father go in to see your mother this evening?”
“When you called, you said not to bother, that she was getting exams and took a pill. Then it was after visiting hours.”
“You could at least have come in for a few minutes,” she said, getting into bed.
“How is Dad supposed to go in tomorrow if Georgie Girl has the car?”
“He can use the car after she takes Tay to preschool. He could even walk. It’s not all that far and the exercise would do him some good.”
Josh cuddled up to Melanie and signaled for more.
“Have you made doctor appointments yet?” she whispered in the dark.
“Come on. You’re serious about that?”
She elbowed him away. “Did you not learn the lesson with your mother today? Both of you need exams.”
“Can’t you just, you know, check me over?”
“Josh, make the appointments.”
Chapter Six
With a new nanny in the group, the household morning schedule was arranged at the breakfast table. To start it off, Melanie would go to preschool with Thérèse and Georgie, and get the nanny put on the list of acceptable people to pick up the girl in the afternoon. After that would be a quick driving test while Georgie drove Melanie to work. After dropping Pop off at the hospital to visit with Dottie, Georgie would drive the streets and highways of West Maui, learning her way around.
While Melanie changed into scrubs for her day in surgery, her phone rang with a familiar number. Even as daughter of an ex-President now long after his passage, Melanie was entitled to Secret Service protection. Most of the time she didn’t want an agent’s presence in her life, but Cassandra had become more of a friend than protection. Truth be told, she needed protection as mayor of the island more than she did as a president’s daughter, mostly since few people still knew of her father’s identity in history.
“Hi, Cassandra. Before you give me a lecture about hiring a new nanny without giving you the chance to check out her background first, just know I ran out of options.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve already checked her out. She’s okay.”
“I just met her for the first time last night. How did you know who she was?”
“When you went out so late last night, I followed, wondering if there was trouble. First, there was the trip to the hospital. I sent flowers to Dottie, by the way. But I couldn’t figure out why you were going to the airport. When I saw you pick up that girl, I got the juice cup she tossed away and checked her fingerprints.”
“And?” Melanie asked, genuinely curious. She was going to have Cassandra check out the girl anyway.
“Georgianne Hisako Torres. Seventeen years old, date of birth June fifteenth. Daughter of Jana Nakatani of Honolulu and Jorge Torres of Los Angeles, divorced for almost a decade. One brother, five years her junior. Three years at Manoa High School. Good student, not great. Sophomore class Vice President and Junior Varsity cheerleader. Third place in last year’s High School Girls Surf Championship at the North Shore. Practicing Catholic until a year ago. In fact, practicing everything until a year ago, when she seemed to drop out of everything at once. No police record, not even juvey. Has an affinity for parking tickets but rarely pays them. Driver’s license address is different than her mother’s address. No debts, no personal credit. Only bank account was emptied and closed about six months ago.”
“So, perfect daughter until something happened about a year ago, which made her leave home and thumb her nose at mainstream society. Any idea of what happened?” Melanie asked.
“None. It doesn’t feel like it’s legal in origin. Except for not bothering to pay her parking tickets, she seems honest.”
“Can’t really hold that against her. I think I have a couple in my glove compartment. What about her father?”
“He’s been back on the mainland since the divorce. Sent alimony on time and still sends child support for the boy, as required. He seems to check out as being okay. I can dig a little, if you like?”
“Maybe we should just leave it alone. If she wants me to know what happened that forced her to make a ninety-degree turn in life, she’ll tell me. Otherwise, if the kids are getting tucked into bed each night in one piece, I’m a happy mother.”
“What’s the deal with Dottie?” Cassandra asked.
Melanie explained about how her mother-in-law had been having tiny but temporary strokes because of her abnormal heart rhythm, and how meds would take care of both.
“I checked out those names you gave me, Gubler and Steinhoefler. Other than being dead, I want them as neighbors.”
“Why?” Melanie asked.
“Not a value judgment, but they had to be the most boring people in America. Neither had a criminal record. Married for five years. Went to work five days a week, did the church thing, solid backgrounds, good credit, road trip to Rushmore as a honeymoon. Small but modern house in Ames. I looked at the Google map and images of it. White picket fence, lawn, rhododendrons, brick chimney and front walk, a little elm tree growing in one corner.”
“I want their lives,” Melanie said.
“Except for being dead.”
Melanie ground a knuckle into the corner of her eye to stop the tic. “Yeah, except for that.”
“Does Detective Nakatani have anything on their deaths yet?” Cassandra asked.
Melanie quickly explained about what Nakatani told her about the hotel room and the drugs in the teddy bear.
“Drugs and cash don’t seem to add up to a conservative Ames lifestyle,” Cassandra said. “Something fishy about that.”
“I feel so bad about what happened to them here. I wish there was something I could do.”
“Their deaths are not your fault, Melanie. Stop trying to be responsible for every little thing that happens on this island. Just let Nakatani take care of the investigation and you take care of your family and your patients.”
“Hopefully, he’s out chasing after a perp. I love saying that.”
“As long as the perp’s not in your house, right?”
“Exactly. “ Melanie’s name was paged overhead to go to her OR. “Hey, I need to go. Can you do me a favor and follow Georgie around for a few days? Just to make sure Thérèse gets to school and the kids are okay?”
“Already on it. She’s already stopped at a surf shop in Lahaina to look at boards.”
“Ha! I can’t blame her for that! I wish I was there with her.”
***
After work that day, Melanie had time to get in a long swim at the public pool before going home. It was a light crowd at the pool that afternoon, only one or two swimmers in each lap lane. The lanes were arranged with one lane reserved for slow swimmers, one for medium, and one lane for fast. Most people were responsible and knew their own ability well enough to go to the proper lane, but every so often, like today, a slower swimmer was using the fast lane. Melanie knew that most of the time if she began swimming the butterfly stroke, slower swimmers would leave the fast lane to her. Maybe it was selfish, but that was life in the swimming pool.
She watched as the middle-aged man made an awkward flip turn at the far end of the pool and start his way back again. She had neglected to bring a one-piece training swimsuit with her that day, so she wore the bikini she kept in her pickup truck for spontaneous trips to the beach or surfing. That was the odd thing about bikinis, that they were almost expected at the beach but seemed out of place for taking laps in a public pool. Pulling her vinyl cap down just a little more, she snugged her goggles to her face and waited to see what the other swimmer would do at the wall--rest or take another lap.
This time the man didn’t do a flip turn, but stalled at the wall just long enough to glance up at h
er before pushing off again. Instead of continuing swimming in freestyle, he turned upside-down to backstroke, looking back at Melanie.
“Well, that’s not too obvious,” she muttered, hopping into the pool.
Stretching her arm and shoulder muscles a bit, she waited until he was to the far side of the pool before pushing off to start her lap swim. Each time she returned to the wall, he was there, peeking underwater as she did her flip turn and pushed off. After a dozen laps, she’d had enough of the guy. She came to the surface and stood on the bottom.
“Look, pal,” she said, pushing her goggles up to get a better look at him. She was careful to remain submerged to her shoulders so he couldn’t get too close a look at her bikini. “I really don’t like being watched so closely, okay? And neither do the other women. So either start taking laps or get lost.”
“Still as uptight as ever, Melanie.”
“What? Who are you?”
When he pushed up his goggles, she got a better look at his face. Water dripped from his fake blond and fake curly hair, and drained from his fake suntan. She knew they were fake because he went to the same hyper-feminine salon she went to occasionally, and was the frequent source of gossip. “Your old friend, Andrew. You know, it really hurts when you don’t say hello to me at the hospital.”
To Melanie, her old boyfriend was Public Enemy Number One. “Andrew, whenever I see you, I’m doing my best to keep my breakfast down. Are you here to cruise chicks, because they cancelled that swim session at the beginning of the twentieth century.”
“Still as mouthy as ever, aren’t you, Kato?”
“Doctor Kato.”
“And as competitive,” he said, his smile disappearing.
“Not that you’re much competition, Andrew. In anything.”
He glared. “Oh yeah? How about a little competition right now?”
Melanie couldn’t believe her ears. Andrew was a gym rat, but even there she would be able to outperform him in almost any weight lifting exercise. “You and me swim against each other? Seriously?”
“I’m completely serious. We could make it even more serious by placing a bet on it. What do you say?”