by Annie O'Neil
“You’re home!” the boy cried, virtually crashing into his father’s solid wall of a chest for a big old bear hug. Just the type her brothers gave her when they knew she’d had a tough day.
Something about the way Zach hugged his son tight, bent down to kiss his wavy head of identical chestnut hair, pulled back to examine his face, then pulled him close again, brought a lump to Lulu’s throat. There was real, genuine love there.
Sexy, smart and a good dad.
“Look!” Harry grinned up at his father and pointed at his mouth. His two front teeth were missing.
“Hey! I guess that means we’re due a visit from the Tooth Fairy tonight.” Zach’s smile faltered. “Unless...you didn’t have a fall, did you, big guy?”
Harry shook his head, his smile still very much from ear to ear. “No. They came out when I was eating watermelon. Grandma’s got them in a jar.”
“Ah, well, then. I’ll be sure to give the Tooth Fairy a call once you’ve gone to bed tonight.”
Zach held his hand up for a high five, which his son returned, but instead of just slapping the hand he held on to his father and started to do a little dance, jigging back and forth to the beat of a drummer neither Zach nor Lulu could hear.
Lulu couldn’t help it. She giggled. This was one happy kid.
When Zach turned back to Lulu she saw that fatherly love had displaced everything else that had passed between them. His son was very clearly his here and now. His sun, his moon, his stars. His...yes...his Turtle Hideaway. And, though it was going to be tough to let that particular dream go, she knew right in the very center of her heart that the house had gone to someone who would love it and care for it as much as she did.
“Lulu?” Zach smiled down at his son, then back at her. “I’d like you to meet my boy. This is Harry.”
Lulu squatted down so that she was at eye level with him and extended her hand. “How do you do, Harry?”
“I’m good, thank you.” He grinned a huge happy, gap-toothed grin. “Especially now that Daddy’s back.” He gave Lulu a bit of a jerky handshake then beamed up at his father.
Cerebral palsy. That was it. She would lay money on it. Not that it felt good coming to that conclusion. Life wouldn’t be easy for Harry.
Once a month she worked with a charity that brought all sorts of disabled children out onto the waves, either on surfboards or canoes—or, in the case of some children with extremely severe disabilities, an extrahuge inner tube. She loved experiencing the rush of surfing along with a child who would never be able to experience it on their own.
Her heart cracked open another notch for Zach Murphy.
No wonder he was a rule-book guy.
“Come!” Harry grabbed Lulu by the hand and began to pull her down the path toward the house. “I want to show you my room!”
CHAPTER FOUR
ZACH ERASED THE concerns he’d had about Lulu not treating his son like she might any other little boy. A lot of people were knocked off their stride when they realized Harry had cerebral palsy. His wife, for example.
He shoved the thought back where it belonged. In the past. They’d made their peace. Their decisions. Their separate moves toward a happier future. Even so...he couldn’t bear it when people didn’t see the same things he saw when he looked at his little boy. A loving, bright kid, kiboshed by a critical absence of oxygen during the birthing process. Sure, he could’ve sued. But a wad of cash wasn’t going to change his boy’s life. Good parenting was. Shame his wife hadn’t seen things the same way...
Zach followed Lulu and Harry along the path lined with well-established banana trees and rounded a small stand of palms to see the house. His smile broadened when he saw Harry enthusiastically pulling Lulu up the handful of steps onto the wraparound wooden porch that had been pretty much all he’d needed to see of the house before asking the Realtor to take down the for-sale sign.
Their view back in Manhattan had been of a brick wall. Now it was the Pacific Ocean. The fact this place hadn’t been sold the second it went on the market was a miracle. So it was a bit of a fixer-upper? He wasn’t afraid of a hammer and a nail. What he couldn’t do, there were likely tradesmen around to help with.
Harry stumbled on the steps as he clambered to get to the top, which wasn’t unusual. Zach’s instinct was always to lurch forward and help, but he’d been trying to let his son learn from his own mistakes. One of the toughest lessons for a parent to grasp,
Harry stumbled again, slapping his hand down on the step and only just avoiding a few splinters in his knee. Instead of going into a hypercautionary mode, as many people did, Lulu laughed along with his son and, as if she were merely starting a new game, looped her arm through his for a spontaneous three-legged race to his bedroom—which, Zach realized, was her way of keeping Harry upright while providing him with a bit of dignity.
There was a clamor of voices in the living room as they entered. His parents. Rather than leap in and micromanage, as he might very well be accused of doing, he thought he’d try to give Lulu the space and respect to be the adult woman she was. His way of addressing the getting-to-know-you do-over.
He heard introductions. Alohas. His mother explaining that her real name was Francesca, but she preferred Frankie, and that Lulu was welcome to call her husband, Martin, Marty—everyone did. All of this was followed up by Lulu offering an explanation that her name was Polynesian for Pearl, but she found that far too girlie, and then, after Harry said something that made them all laugh, explaining the game they were playing. By the sounds of the thumping, the three-legged race was back on again.
Zach smiled.
Ten points to Lulu for dodging his mother’s twenty questions. Another ten points for not calling out the special-needs kid for being a klutz. He’d always tried to keep his son’s focus on what he could do, rather than what he couldn’t. It looked as though Lulu was cut from the same cloth.
He knew it shouldn’t be a huge surprise, seeing as anyone was capable of being kind. It was just... He guessed the last few years and his disaster of a marriage had been a life lesson in learning that love didn’t always come from the most obvious candidates.
Not that he had the whole perfect-parenting thing down to a tee—possibly, never would. He used to caution people. Warn them. Mention what to look for when interacting with Harry, what to try to ignore. He used to do it to his wife.
It had taken his marriage falling apart and a telling off from his son after a particularly overprotective school sports day for him to realize that all his cushioning made people treat Harry differently—whereas if they’d met his son without all the preamble, they would have been every bit as disarmed by the sheer amount of joy his gorgeous, sunny-dispositioned boy possessed.
He parked himself on the porch, eyes trained on the sun as it began its descent. In New York, the summer sun hung in the sky deep into the evening hours. Here it looked like it was lights-out around six thirty—give or take half an hour—no matter what time of year it was.
Equatorial life was going to take some getting used to. And he wasn’t just talking about the sun.
His mother appeared and sat herself down next to him with a light pat on the knee.
“She seems nice... Lulu. Pretty, too.”
He nodded but avoided eye contact. Ever since the divorce had become final a year back she’d been intent on getting him back into the dating game. No amount of I’m not going there again, Mother had put her off.
She was a feisty second-generation Italian woman who’d married a feisty second-generation Irishman. The pair of them regularly set off fireworks by rubbing together in both the right and the wrong ways. But most of all their relationship was big on love. They might never agree on the perfect wattage for a reading lamp light bulb, but they’d never let Zach down.
However, he could do without their help in the matchmaking department. He’d learned
the hard way that a physical attraction to someone did not a long-lasting relationship make. So, no matter how...erm...pronounced a reaction his body had to Lulu, he was going to have to ignore it.
“How’d your first appearance at work go?” his mother asked, in a tone suggesting that she’d seen his thoughts running through his eyes like a ticker tape.
He gave a self-effacing grunt. “Not great.”
His mother looked back over her shoulder to where they could hear Lulu making dinosaur noises with Harry. No prizes for guessing that Harry was showing her his new Lego collection. His ex had bought him a fire-breathing dinosaur kit as prep for life on Hawaii, only to discover that only the dinosaur film had been set here... There had never been actual dinosaurs.
“Facts schmachts,” she’d said.
And therein lay one of their many differences. Zach liked his feet solidly grounded in reality, while Christina was a dreamer through and through. He’d thought it would work. Being a yin-yang couple. His parents couldn’t be more different from each other, but they were always able to see things from the other’s perspective, claiming their differences had made them stronger as a couple.
But that hadn’t been the case with Christina. Their differences had been like tectonic plates destined to crack apart—the gap growing ever wider as the stresses and strains of life took their toll. Eventually, he’d had to face facts. They had a disabled son who would need help for the rest of his life and Christina didn’t want to do it.
His mother tapped him on the knee and pointed out toward the bay, where a turtle was crawling up onto the beach. “There’s Christopher.”
“Christopher? How do you know? Are they tagged, or something?”
“No,” she laughed. “It’s what Harry’s been calling all the turtles making an appearance.”
A sting of guilt lanced his conscience. Back in New York, Harry’s best friend was Christopher. His mother was a caregiver and she always took Harry in after school, or whenever Zach couldn’t change his shifts to match his son’s schedule.
It was one of the reasons he’d taken this nine-to-five job. Reliability. Sure, there would be the odd out-of-hours call, but the main point was, as he was the only one Harry had to rely on now, he wouldn’t be risking his life at work the way he’d used to.
He made a mental note to take some pictures and send them back home. He stopped. Corrected himself. Back to New York. Their life was here now. With a bit of organization Harry and Christopher could have regular video calls. With a bit of ingenuity they could even have one from the beach, so they could show the real Christopher his new namesakes.
“I’m guessing you’re going for the minimalist look?” Lulu appeared, laughing as she plonked herself down on the step next to Zach’s mom, her elbows on her knees, leaning forward to catch his eye. “Or will you be building all of your furniture out of Lego?”
Zach gave her the thumbs up. “Got it in one.”
She laughed. Their eyes cinched a bit tighter than they probably should have for a man and woman who’d hit it off so badly.
Zach broke the eye contact first and, because he was himself, explained, “I thought we’d go local on our purchases instead of shipping things in. We sold all of our furniture out East and...” He trailed off before he told the real truth.
He’d sold everything because he didn’t want any reminders of his married life—apart, of course, from his son. Harry had been allowed to pack his favorite toys and books of course, but the bed Zach and Christina had once slept in...? Uh-uh. The kitchen table he’d knelt alongside to ask her to be his wife...? Sold. The gray sofa, side chairs and throw pillows she’d insisted upon buying, because gray was the new black? No, thank you. Blue skies, azure oceans and lush green mountains were his new color scheme and he liked it that way. He only prayed his boy did, too.
“Cool.” Lulu genuinely sounded impressed. “If you want me to point you in the direction of some awesome local craftsmen, I’m more than happy to help.”
“Well, now, that’s a lovely offer—isn’t it, Zachary?” Zach’s mom said, her voice heavy with meaning. The kind that meant she’d happily offer to babysit if they wanted a joint shopping trip to involve some “adult time.”
“Thanks.” Zach pressed himself up to stand. “That’d be great. But right now...” He patted his belly. “I’m getting hungry, and Lulu here has been bragging on a local burger shack.”
“Sure have.” Lulu bounced up. “Are you and Mr. Murphy coming as well?”
“Frankie and Marty, dear,” Zach’s mom insisted, before throwing Zach an I think this one’s worth a few dates look.
He only just managed to contain his eye roll as he called his son to come on out to the porch. And his dad. They might as well all go.
Half an hour later they were all glowing in the remains of the day’s sunlight, their newly arrived meal covering the bulk of a huge round picnic table parked at the high end of the beach, but chained to a nearby coconut palm “just in case.”
“So?” Lulu asked after a few minutes of contented munching. “What do you think?”
“Amazing,” Zach said through a mouthful of barbecued pork and pineapple burger. “Never had anything like it.”
Lulu beamed proudly—as if she had been the one to slow roast it in the barbecue and griddle the pineapple herself. Local pride, he guessed. The same way a native New Yorker would swear on his life that he knew the best local pizzeria or, in his dad’s case, the best Irish pub.
“I can’t believe we’ve lived here all these years and never eaten here,” Zach’s father said, wiping a bit of mayonnaise off his cheek. “This hamburger is out of this world!”
Frankie agreed about her own burger and then, her eyes darting between Lulu and Zach, added, “It’s fantastic to see Marty eat so much. When we eat out, we normally go to the officers’ club.” She gave her husband a tender look, then said, “I haven’t seen him devour anything they serve like this.”
Lulu’s brow furrowed. “The Naval Officers’ Club?”
“Oh, no. Retired Fire and Rescue Officers’.”
Zach’s father jumped in. “What she’s trying to say is we go to the same place too often. Don’t explore enough.” He coughed and then, turning away from the table, coughed some more.
Lulu didn’t miss the creases of concern on Frankie and Zach’s faces as Marty recovered, then turned back, his thin face wearing a Nothing to see here expression.
“Sorry ’bout that.” He pointed at his throat. “A bit of a tickle. Anyhow, you were saying about exploring more...?”
Frankie gave her husband a pat on the arm. “We’ve lived on the island long enough to let go of our safety net. Perhaps Lulu will show us some more places like this now that we’re all here.”
Zach’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. Interesting... This would normally be the point where his mother hammered a poor, innocent woman with a thousand questions. Who were her parents? Where had she grown up? What were her hopes, her dreams? Was there anything they should know about her past? Her future?
Not this time. His mother was clearly taking a different tack. Deference. Trying to prove they were the ones worth considering. It was something he’d thought he might see when hell froze over, but certainly not before.
It had never occurred to him that their confidence might’ve been knocked by the move out here for his father’s health.
Then again, it had also never occurred to him that some of his friends would stop returning his calls when his ex had filed for divorce.
Had his dad’s fire station buddies done the same? Kept their distance once his dad’s health prognosis had forced him into early retirement? It would’ve been a heck of a kick in the teeth after all the years of service and friendship his father had given.
He considered another possibility: that his parents had made the move in the way a wounded animal too
k itself far away from the pack to try its best to recover.
Neither option sat well.
He took a fry and swept it through some ketchup, dropping it at the memory of how shocked he’d been when his parents had met them at the airport. His dad had lost a lot of weight in the few months since he’d seen them last, and that cough of his was gaining traction. He felt ashamed that he’d been so involved in his own life that he hadn’t noticed just how much his father’s health had degenerated.
Now that he’d found a job, made the move, bought a house and was in a place where he could start settling Harry in, he finally had the brain space to see the bigger picture. He wasn’t the only one who needed help. His parents needed him here every bit as much as he needed them. They were all hurting. All trying to heal. And any ray of sunshine that came their way was worth its weight in gold.
His gaze instantly shifted to Lulu.
Even if it came in a five-foot-two-inch package of fire and electricity?
Before the thought could gain purchase, Harry lifted up his burger and oinked like a pig, mooed like a cow, then launched into his best chicken impression as they all began to laugh.
“I’ll take that as a thumbs-up.” Lulu laughed, giving him that hand signal Zach had seen several times now.
“What is that?” he asked.
“What? This?” Lulu curled her hand into a loose fist except for her thumb and pinky finger and waved it back and forth. “It’s the shaka sign.”
“What does it mean?”
“Hang loose. Aloha. That’s cool.”
“All at once?”
“It symbolizes a shared respect.”
She gave a light shrug before Zach could attach too much meaning to the comment.
“It’s basically whatever you want it to mean. So long as its friendly,” she added, with a small but perceptible upward tilt of her chin.
Lulu’s eyes met his head-on. They were flame colored. It was easy enough to see that it was the sun making her eyes appear as if they had a life of their own, but Zach knew the fire that burned in them flared bright and hot with a note of warning. The shaka sign was the first thing she’d done when she’d met him, and what had he done in return? He’d barked an instruction. Then he’d made it worse. Belittled her in front of her crew and the people they’d just rescued.