Chapter Twenty-Six
Orson
After Scarlett signs the contract, the Elders want to talk to Scarlett about the allocation of the new funds. Kingi and I have no more to contribute, so we tell them we’ll leave them to it and pack up our briefcases.
Scarlett rises with us, informs them she’ll be back shortly, and accompanies us out.
Outside, the sun is heading for the horizon, and the commune is bathed in a marmalade light, thick and a deep yellow-orange. The solar lights around the duck pond and outside the buildings have come on, and the place glows in the peace of the dusky evening.
“I wanted to say thank you,” Scarlett says to Kingi. “For everything you’ve done.”
“I’m sorry for any distress it’s caused you,” he replies.
“It’s better to know the truth,” she says. “Red pill, right?”
He nods. “Always.” He glances at me. “I’ll see you back at the club?”
“Yeah, I’ll head over shortly.”
He smiles at Scarlett, then heads off to his car.
I look back at Scarlett. She has dark shadows under her eyes, so I don’t imagine she got much sleep last night. But I’m thrilled that she’s signed the papers. It means she’s not going to sell up, close the commune, and flee. It means she’s probably staying.
“Thank you,” she says, looking into my eyes. “For your incredibly generous donation.”
“You’re welcome. You run a worthwhile cause here. We should have included you ages ago.”
“Your father signed the papers?”
“Yes—all members have to agree to every donation. ”
“I know he said he wanted to let go of his resentment, but I have to admit, I didn’t think he’d be able to.”
“He said that the way you forgave him for his behavior that night convinced him. And also the fact that I told him I love you.” I smile.
She blinks up at me. “You can’t say that. We’ve hardly dated at all.”
“My dad said loving someone and being in love aren’t the same thing, and maybe he’s right. Perhaps love is something that comes with time. But I’m definitely in love with you. Are you in love with me?” I tip my head so I can look deep into her eyes.
Her lips part and a light flush, pink as the sunset, appears in her cheeks. “Maybe. But I don’t know how it could possibly work between us.”
“We’ll make it work,” I say firmly.
Her brows draw together.
I take her hands. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t make sense to talk about Where This is Going so early on…”
“I don’t see a problem with having a map to follow on the journey. Doesn’t mean you have to stick to it.”
She swallows hard. “It’s just… I’m afraid you’re going to make me leave the commune.”
It’s my turn to frown. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“But I don’t see how it can work unless I do, because you’re not going to want to come and live here.”
“Well, I have to point out that you haven’t asked me…”
Her mouth opens, but no words come out.
I blow out a long breath. “Look, you’re right in that I have no great desire to live in a commune. But good relationships involve compromise, right?”
She nods.
“So for now maybe a few times a week we could go on dates. Go to the city for a meal or a show, or you could come to the club and spend some time with Marama and Elizabeth, who both really liked you, and I’m happy to come and meet your friends here. If you want to, sometimes you can stay with me at my apartment, or at the club, or I can stay with you here—I have no objection to that. And then maybe, down the line, we could… I don’t know… get a place of our own a mile or two away, on the coast? Close enough so you could walk or ride to the commune every day? But somewhere of our own so we’d have the privacy I prefer?”
She presses her fingers to her lips. “Do you mean that?” she whispers, her voice husky with emotion.
“I do. I mean obviously it’s one step at a time. But I want you to understand that we have a future, if we’re prepared to make it work. And I want it to. I want to be with you, Scarlett. I want you in my life.”
I cup her face and move closer to her, and she looks up into my eyes. Hers are shining, and her bottom lip trembles, but she doesn’t let the tears fall.
“You’ve been so brave,” I murmur. “I know you’ve had George and the others at the commune to help, but you’ve had an awful lot to deal with, and what’s happened over the past few weeks has been very hard on you.”
“I’ve felt so alone,” she whispers.
“I know. But you’re not alone now. I’m here. I don’t want to interfere at all, but I would like to help you and the others make Kahukura a well-run institution that funds itself, with a strong financial structure.”
“You’ve already been so generous…”
I hesitate. Then I say, “I have something to admit to you.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Oh?”
I rub the back of my neck. Then I confess, “My pain has gone.”
Her mouth forms an O. “Really?”
“Yeah. I only realized yesterday, when I went to take my morning painkillers and realized I didn’t need them. Look, I’m a man of fact and figures. I believe in proof and evidence, and science over mysticism. Despite this, I know you won’t believe me, but I like to think I’m open minded. Something that’s happened over the past few weeks has helped my pain. Maybe I’ve just healed naturally. Perhaps it was being at the Waiora, or you laying your hands on me. It could just be being with you.” I smile. “Or maybe it’s because I’ve finally made peace with my father, and like you said, it was internal stress and tension causing the pain. But the fact is that I feel better. I’ve seen you at work, and I truly believe you can help people in trouble. I believe in what you do, and I want to help you make the world a better place.” I wince. “Don’t tell Kingi I said that. I’ll never hear the end of it. ”
She gives me such a beautiful smile that my heart fills with joy.
“Thank you,” I tell her sincerely. I kiss her, briefly, a couple of times. Then, when she lifts her arms around my neck, I give her a longer kiss, wrapping my arms around her.
When we’re done, she lowers her arms and laughs as she rubs her nose. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Definitely. You can tell me how the rest of the meeting goes.”
“All right.” She moves backward, holding my hand until she has to let it drop. “See you soon.”
I wave goodbye. I walked over from the club, and I head back the same way, lit by the setting sun, feeling a lightness inside I don’t think I’ve ever felt before.
*
The next day is Saturday. I know Scarlett holds a couple of classes in the morning, so when I wake up, I send her a text saying I hope she’s slept well and tell her I’m going for a run, then don a tee, shorts, and trainers. We have a gym at the club, but today I feel like being out in the real world, so I head outside.
We’ve put in a circular path around the club that’s approximately a kilometer long for guests who like to walk, and I put my earbuds in, stick the Arctic Monkeys on, and head off. It’s early enough that I only meet one or two early risers, and we politely exchange nods before continuing on our way.
It’s a beautiful morning. The sun is rising in front of me, and the whole complex is flooded with lemon-colored light. The air is fresh, denoting that we’re moving into autumn now, but I know it’ll be warm enough by lunchtime to go out without a jacket.
I feel light of heart, lifted by the sensation of being without pain. My knee is still a little stiff, but after about fifteen minutes that wears off, and I revel in the feeling of my muscles warming and my body moving fluidly.
As I run, I reflect on the events of the past few weeks. I’ve been cynical and judgmental, blindly believing what my father told me about the commune. It led to me believing that everyone there must be foolish and gullible. I assumed that George must be the one who’d been stealing, despite Scarlett insisting he was an honorable man, and it turned out the guy was willing to go to prison to defend his friend and to protect Scarlett and her sister.
I won’t make that mistake again. I’m not going to be able to rid myself of my core beliefs overnight, but I’m going to make sure to listen to Scarlett and be as open-minded as I can, and to try to judge others based on my experience rather than what other people tell me.
I hope she was able to think about the possibility of us having a relationship last night. I think I convinced her, but I haven’t heard from her since, so I don’t know what’s going through her mind.
My phone buzzes in the running bag I wear strapped to the top of my left arm, and I take it out and look at the screen. It’s a text from Scarlett in reply to mine. It just says, Super busy this morning. Catch up this afternoon. Will you be at the club all day?
I text back, Yes but I can come over any time.
I wait for her to reply, but after a minute I realize she’s probably not going to, and I slot the phone back into the bag and continue running.
*
I spend the morning working. There’s always something urgent that needs doing, and it’s after one before my stomach rumbles, reminding me I should find some sustenance before I pass out. I call the front desk and ask if they can get the chef to send me something through, and five minutes later someone turns up with a plate of chicken salad sandwiches, a bowl of homemade kumara crisps, a piece of apple pie and custard, and a piping hot latte. Nice.
Kingi comes into my office, says, “Ooh, lunch,” stuffs half the crisps into one of the sandwiches, and has eaten half of it before I have the chance to protest.
“Help yourself,” I say sarcastically, which earns me a grin. I pick up my phone and check the screen, then put it back on the table.
“Anything from Scarlett?” Kingi asks.
“I texted her about half an hour ago, but I haven’t heard from her. She’s probably taking a class.” I’m sure she said she didn’t have any in the afternoon, though.
“Yeah, she’s probably just busy.” His eyes sparkle.
“What?”
“Nothing. ”
“Kingi, I know that look. What’s going on?”
“I have no idea.” He gets up and steals another sandwich. “You staying here?”
“Yeah. If I haven’t heard from her by three p.m., I’ll head over to the commune and find out what’s going on.”
“All right. Let me know when you leave, okay?” He goes to have a spoonful of the apple pie, sees my glare, holds up a hand, and heads out.
It gets to two thirty, and I start packing up my stuff. I close my laptop and lock it in my desk, pocket my phone, and toss my coffee cup in the bin. I’m just about to walk out when I hear voices in the corridor. I know Kingi is here, but I’m pretty sure the rest of the offices are empty.
I glance at the door, and my eyebrows shoot up as Scarlett comes in, followed closely by Kingi, who’s carrying a medium-sized cardboard box.
“Hello,” Scarlett says, smiling.
“Oh, hey! What are you doing here?”
She walks up to me and slides her arms around my waist, and I give her a hug, warmth spreading through me.
She lifts her face for a kiss. Then she moves back and says, “I brought you a present.”
“Really?”
Kingi brings the box over and puts it on the coffee table. He grins at me. Then he winks at Scarlett and says, “I’ll leave you to it,” and goes out.
“If it’s a cake, I’d have preferred it if you’d jumped out of it,” I point out.
She gives me a wry look, then gestures at it. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
“It’s not my birthday.”
“It’s a thank you, Orson, from all of us at Kahukura, for everything you’ve done for us.”
Frowning, I go over to the box. “You didn’t need to do that. I don’t expect—” I twitch, startled, as the box moves. “What the fuck?”
I stare at her. She just grins. I look back at the box, only noticing then that the top has a series of air holes in it. My heart racing, I lift the side flaps, which aren’t stuck down, and open the front and back.
My jaw drops. Inside, sitting up in a small bed, is a tiny puppy .
Its tail, which curves up over its body, is wagging at a million miles an hour. The puppy stands and puts its front paws on the side of the box. Worried it’s going to tip it forward, I reach in, pick the puppy up, and lift it into my arms.
It’s tiny—only about six inches tall—and white with light-brown patches. It looks like a Jack Russell, but its coat is rough, and its face has an adorable small shaggy beard. It’s wearing a blue collar. I look underneath—it’s a boy.
“His name is Bearcub,” Scarlett says. “He’s eight weeks old.”
“What breed is he?” My voice is suspiciously husky.
“He’s a Parson Russell Terrier. They have a longer head and a larger chest than the Jack Russell. He’ll probably double in size by the time he’s an adult, but he’ll still be small enough to ride on your bike. Apparently they have a lot of energy… like someone else I know…” She smiles. “I thought he could go running with you.”
He puts his front feet on my chest and licks my chin. Jesus, he’s so small, but his brown eyes are full of spirit.
I think about Doyle, and my eyes fill with tears. “I don’t think we’ll take you on the bike,” I whisper. “We’re going to keep you safe, little fella.”
“One of the guys at the commune knows a local breeder,” Scarlett says softly. “I’ve got all the paperwork.” She fondles the puppy’s ear. “He can’t go for a walk until he’s had his last injections at about sixteen weeks, but the garden is fine.”
He climbs up my chest, then sinks down and rests his chin on my shoulder. For a moment, I can’t speak. His body is tiny and warm, and where my hand is supporting him under his chest, I can feel his heart beating against his ribs. I love his coloring, his whiskers, and his tail, which doesn’t stop moving. He’s beautiful, and he’s exactly what I needed.
Kingi comes back into the room, and he says, “Aw, now, isn’t that the perfect scene?” He lifts his phone and takes a photo, and I laugh, blinking the tears away.
“You knew?” I ask.
He nods. “Scarlett called me this morning and asked me to make sure you stayed in the office until she arrived.” He comes closer and reaches out a hand to stroke the pup. “He’s gorgeous.”
“He’ll never replace Doyle,” I say, feeling a brief stab of guilt .
“Of course not,” Kingi replies with a smile. “This little guy has his own personality, you can see that already. He’s going to be a major pain in the ass.”
“Like me,” Scarlett says, and giggles.
“Both making my life a misery.” I chuckle and kiss Bearcub’s head.
Kingi heads for the door. “Scarlett brought some stuff for him, and I’ve asked the porter to take it to your suite, I hope that was okay.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“A small crate,” she says, “new food and water bowls, a couple of toys, and a leash. I wasn’t sure whether you’d want to use Doyle’s, so I thought if he had new ones…”
“That’s great,” I say. “Thank you.”
Kingi smiles and goes out.
I get to my feet and take Bearcub over to the sliding doors that lead out into the garden. It has a fence around it, so he’s safe. I put him down, and he immediately runs over to the tree and has a pee against it.
Scarlett comes out and stands beside me, and we both watch him investigating his land, sniffing stones and pots and trying to eat a flower.
“He’s gorgeous,” I tell her. “Thank you so much.”
“You didn’t mind not choosing him yourself?”
“Not at all. I couldn’t quite bring myself to make the decision, you know? I needed someone else to do it for me.”
She slides her arms around my waist again, and I hug her. The afternoon sunlight slants across us, banana yellow, and it warms me through.
“How has your day been?” I ask her.
“Good. Richard and George want to talk to you about contacting your designer and asking her to draw up some plans for new building developments for both the village and the retreat.”
I kiss her hair. “Are you okay with that?”
“Yes, I think it’s a good idea. Dad’s vision was great but idealistic. This new vision is much more practical and sustainable, I hope.”
“I think you’re right.”
“The donation was so generous—I think we’ll be able to double the number of women we have staying at the retreat.”
“That’s fantastic. ”
“And I also want to talk to you about the Waiora. I’d like to help you with the design of that. You’re right—it does need to be made safer, and it makes sense to have facilities, as long as they’re not too much of an eyesore. I’m excited about taking classes to the gazebos, and decorating them to reflect the peaceful nature of the pond.”
“We’ll make sure to have plenty of signs that stress the importance of it being a place of quiet reflection.”
“That would be great.”
We stand there, smiling as we watch Bearcub bark at a fantail in the tree.
Then I look down at her. “Have you given any more thought to what I said last night?”
She nods. “Of course. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” She looks up into my eyes. “I’m so touched that you want to be a part of Kahukura. And I wanted to say that I’m keen to be a part of the Midnight Club, too. I mean, I’m not sure I’ll ever be comfortable in a nightclub, or in your world. But I will try. I thought that maybe, eventually, I might be able to do some work with the Circle. I know quite a lot about the donation side of things, and I have a slightly different perspective, having worked for a charity.”
“That would be fantastic.” I kiss her nose. “Thank you for trying.”
“I want to make it work. I’m trying to do what you said, and use the truth to shape my own destiny.”
I kiss her lips once, twice, and then a longer third time. Then Bearcub barks, making us laugh, and we look over at where he’s tugging on a piece of wire fence around the base of the tree.
“The sun’s really bright,” Scarlett says, shielding her eyes.
“Like our future.”
“That’s really cheesy.”
“Yeah, I know.” I chuckle and go over to rescue Bearcub, and lift him up and kiss his nose. I bring him back to Scarlett, and she strokes his head, slipping her other arm around my waist, and holding me close .