19. Emma
19
Emma
K eith arrived at dawn, as promised.
Emma had already been out in the garden for an hour. She loved going out into the yard at first light, walking through the dew-drenched grass and surveying the land she stewarded as she formulated a plan for the day.
It was such a peaceful time, those pale pre-dawn moments. Nell and her babies were still asleep, and so was Kai. Toni and Juniper had already left for one of the weekly markets where Juniper sold tea. The only sounds were birdsong and the distant crowing of roosters.
Dio was her shadow in the mornings, watching over her. When he sprinted back to the house, she knew that Kai must be up and out of bed. He was used to grabbing himself some breakfast — usually some homemade yogurt or homegrown bananas — and eating it out on the lanai, where he cuddled up with Dio and Zuko to watch the sunrise. By the time the first rays of sunlight hit the yard and began to dry the grass, he was fully awake and running around.
Keith texted rather than letting himself in, and Emma met him at the front gate. He said a quiet hello, somehow adding to the peace of the morning rather than disturbing it.
They didn’t talk much as they walked through the front yard – a question here, a bit of advice there. He pointed at a branch from the blue marble tree that was reaching towards the house and recommended trimming it before it reached the roof; in a soft and confident voice, he offered to do the work himself.
Kai was still half awake when they walked by, and he glared down at them from the lanai. Dio thumped his tail uncertainly, as if apologizing for not being a better guard dog. Usually he warned them when someone came to the gate — but if Kai had food in his hand, all bets were off.
Their cat leapt up onto the porch railing, meowing indignantly at Emma to remind her that she’d yet to feed him that day.
“Zuko, come back,” Kai pleaded.
The orange tabby jumped back into his lap, obedient as any dog, and Kai rewarded him with a spoonful of yogurt.
Emma gave Keith a quick tour of the property, introducing him to the well-established fruit trees and the garden that she had grown from the ground up. Nell gave them a cheery wave from the goat pen, where she was finishing up her portion of the morning chores.
The tour petered out when they reached the duck pond in the back corner of the lot. Emma stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do next, too aware of Keith’s arm just a few inches from hers as they stood there watching the ducks dive beneath the surface of the water and bob back up again.
“So?” Keith said when she had been quiet for a while. “Where should we start?”
“I really don’t know,” Emma said, realizing that she should have figured something out when they set a date for him to come by. “I’ve been keeping up with the weeds in the garden lately, but the rest of the property is starting to get away from me.” She gestured towards the vines and grasses that had formed a dense mass of vegetation on the other side of the pond. “I’d love your help with pruning the fruit trees, if they need it… if it’s even the right time of year for that. Maybe you could take a look at the orchard and give me advice? Fertilizer, future pruning, that sort of thing?”
“I’d be happy to help with all of that.” He paused and then said, “Maybe we could start with scouting out a spot for your gift?”
“My what?” She frowned at him in confusion. There was a soft smile on his face, and his eyes were intent on hers.
“I bought you a present. It’s still in my truck. I didn’t want to assume… but it’s yours if you want it. Come see.”
They walked back up the length of the property. Kai and Cassie were up a tree, eating lychee straight from the branches. The grass was littered with discarded red shells.
“What a childhood,” Keith said admiringly.
“That’s why we’re here.” She snuck glances at him as they walked: the long line of his nose, the strong muscles in his sun-tanned arms. She could picture him as a boy on a farm somewhere, living a Huck Finn sort of childhood. “Did you grow up like that? Up a tree every day?”
He chuckled. “Hardly.”
“Oh.” She realized that she didn’t even know where he’d lived as a kid. “Where did you grow up?”
“In a lifeless California suburb not far from Los Angeles.” He held the front gate open for Emma and then closed it behind them. “I was a surf rat. Moved to Hawai‘i right after high school. Got a job on a farm that provided room and board in exchange for half a day’s work.
“I had no experience with farming. It was just grunt work - mac nuts, mostly. But after a while, I realized I was even happier up a tree than I was out on the water. I fell in love with growing things. Eventually I moved from Maui to Kaua‘i to study permaculture, and then I ended up here.”
While he was talking, he pulled a healthy little sapling out of his truck.
“Your gift,” he said shyly. “If you want it.”
“What is it?”
“Durian.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ve never tried durian?”
She shook her head.
“They call it the king of fruits. There aren’t many trees on the island yet, but they grow well here. They take a long time to start producing, sometimes as much as ten years. They make big fruits with a thick, spiky shell.”
“Sounds like a lot of effort,” she said, eying the sapling dubiously.
Keith grinned. “They’re worth it. The fruit inside is like nothing else. Rich as custard, and sweet, with a complex flavor. Not everyone likes it — it’s sort of love it or hate it, for most people — but if you hate it, you can sell each fruit for close to a hundred dollars each.”
“That much?” she asked in surprise.
“Like I said, there aren’t many mature trees on the island. And people who love them love them. They’re a rare treat.”
“Thank you.”
“I grafted this one myself.” He pointed to a spot low on the trunk where the rootstock met the fruit-producing part of the tree. “It’s my favorite variety. No name yet — it actually comes from a tree I started from seed when I moved to the Big Island. This was the first year that it’s produced, and the fruit was phenomenal. This would be the first sapling planted.”
“Okay. Let’s plant it.”
“Here, would you hold it?”
“Sure.” Emma accepted the baby tree, cradling it in both hands while Keith pulled more supplies out of the back of his truck.
“The saplings are sensitive to the sun,” he explained, holding up a length of black fabric, “so it’s best to use shade cloth until they’re a bit bigger.”
“Let’s go find it a home.”
“I think I saw a good spot near the back of your lot. You don’t necessarily want it in a high-traffic area, since they can do some serious damage when they fall. You wouldn’t have to worry about that anytime soon, but still. Don’t want any of your grandbabies injured by falling durian.”
She laughed. It was strange to think of another generation running around the Kealoha place, but wasn’t that the whole point? She was stewarding the land for generations to come. Viewed in that light, a tree that took a decade to bear fruit… well, that wasn’t so long, really. Kai would still be a teenager.
She was startled from her thoughts when something red zoomed past inches from her face. She stumbled to a stop, holding the sapling steady, and looked at Keith just as an overripe lychee bounced off the side of his head.
“Kai!” Emma’s eyes found the two kids up in the lychee tree.
He pelted Keith with another rotten lychee.
“Absolutely not!” she shouted.
Keith was laughing, but he put a hand up to hide his grin.
She scowled up at Kai, warning him with her expression not to throw another rotten piece of fruit. He stuck his tongue out her and climbed higher up in the tree.
“Sorry,” she sighed as they continued on through the orchard. “He’s… not usually like this.”
Keith nodded solemnly. Neither one of them acknowledged the elephant in the orchard: Kai had never seen his mother spending time with a man who wasn’t part of their family, and he wasn’t taking it well. She would have to sit down with him after Keith left and talk things through.
Not yet, though.
First, they had a tree to plant.