Chapter 15 Anne
Anne
“How does this look?” Anne stepped back and surveyed her work.
“It looks good,” Claire approved. “Very beachy.”
They had scoured three different transfer-station bargain shops to find some odds and ends to spruce up the guest rooms and bathrooms. Given the chance to collaborate instead of just being dragged along, Claire had jumped into their redecorating efforts head-first.
Fresh paint on the walls and furniture went a long way, and some new decorations helped the spaces feel a bit more grown up. Three of the bedrooms were already done, and Claire had finished decorating the final room herself.
“Ya done good, kid.” Anne put an arm around her. “I think it’s ready for photos.”
“Hey Mom?” Pete shuffled into the room, unusually quiet and slow. She turned to find him cradling a bundled-up towel in his arms.
“What have you got there?”
“A kitten?” he said uncertainly. “Or… I dunno. It’s not a possum, because they have pink tails like rats and this one has a fuzzy tail.”
Anne stepped closer to see what he was holding: a tiny creature with a pointed face and a little pink nose. Its fur was dark brown flecked with tan.
“What is that?” Claire asked, peering down at it.
The pup stretched and made a long chirping sound, then curled back into the towel. It was adorable, a fuzzy little baby the size of a four-week-old kitten.
“It’s a mongoose,” Anne said.
Pete’s worried expression broke into a grin. “Like Rikki Tikki Tavi?”
“Yeah.” She let out a huff of a laugh. “Just like that.”
“Where did you find it?” Claire asked.
“He was under that pink hibiscus bush out front, all wet and shivering. His mom was in the road, I think, but the car messed her up too bad to see what kind of animal she was, so I didn’t know if she was a cat or what. It was really gross and sad.”
Anne sighed and walked out of the room. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Your grandma used to foster kittens all the time. I know she has bottles around here somewhere. Maybe even some kitten formula.”
“Can mongooses drink kitten formula?” Pete asked as they walked down the stairs.
“They can,” said a deep male voice, “but you have to dilute it.”
“Jesus Christ,” Anne muttered, pressing one hand over her racing heart.
“Nope,” Noah said. He was standing in their kitchen as casually as if he lived there – which he had, more than once, but that was decades ago now. “Just me.”
“You scared me.”
“Sorry about that. I was looking for Dawn.”
“She went out,” Claire said. She stood behind Pete, arms crossed, and narrowed her eyes at Noah.
“She did?” Anne asked, surprised. “Out where?”
“I dunno. Just… out.”
“Her car’s still here,” Noah said.
“Out walking the cliffs, then.” Anne crossed her arms, realizing after the fact that she was mirroring Claire’s body language. Noah noticed it too; she could tell by the glint of amusement in his eyes as he looked from mother to daughter. “What did you need?”
“I just wanted to let her know that I’m going to get started on the roof.”
Anne’s blood pressure jumped again. “What’s wrong with the roof?”
“Nothing that a fresh coat of paint won’t fix. Just some minor leaks that we want to get ahead of while the weather’s dry.”
Anne noted his use of the word ‘we’ and let it pass.
“So what do we feed him?” Pete asked. “The mongoose?”
Noah stepped closer to get a better look at the pup in Pete’s arms. “You can give him kitten formula mixed half and half with soy milk.”
“Soy milk?” Anne said. “Really?”
“That’s what the rescues do,” he said with a shrug. “And a buddy of mine who found some orphaned pups, that’s what he did. Only one of them made it. They were a lot smaller than this one, though. Probably sick already. This guy looks pretty healthy. Are you sure he doesn’t have a mama?”
“Roadkill,” Pete said shortly.
“Right. Well.” Noah stroked the pup’s head with one broad finger. “This guy looks old enough for solid food. You give him cans of kitten food during the day and wake up a few times a night to give him a warm bottle of milk, that should do it.”
“I can do that,” Pete said earnestly. “I can set alarms on my watch.”
Noah whistled, low and quiet. “That’s one fancy watch.”
“My dad gave it to me,” he said indifferently. “It’s his old one. It tracks steps and miles and stuff. But it can do alarms too.”
The back door opened, and Zoe paused halfway into the kitchen.
“Family reunion?” she asked in a flat voice.
“I’m just here to paint the roof,” Noah said.
“Right.”
“He was telling me how to take care of my pet mongoose,” Pete said with a grin.
Zoe’s eyes narrowed. “Your what?”
“I found a mongoose in the bushes. Look!” He walked towards Zoe, but she crossed her arms and shook her head.
“You can’t keep that thing. It’s like keeping a rat.”
“That’s cool! I always wanted a pet rat.”
“Okay, but it’s not a pet rat. It’s a wild animal.”
“Does he look wild to you?” Pete asked, peeling away a corner of the towel. The tiny pup blinked up at them, then closed its eyes and curled into Pete’s chest.
“It’s cute now, but it won’t stay that little for long.”
“His mom is dead,” Pete told her. “He needs me.”
“They’re native to India. They don’t belong in Hawaii.”
“It’s not his fault he was born here!”
“Pete,” she sighed, softening her voice, “it’s a pest. Some plantation owner brought them in a long time ago to try and kill the rats that were eating his sugar cane. Thing is, mongooses are diurnal.”
“They hunt during the day?”
“Exactly. And rats mostly come out at night. So they’re no good against rats. But the native species here, they were easy prey. So all that guy did was bring in a new pest that’s even worse than the rats.”
“He’s just a baby.” Pete gave her a pleading look.
“It’s an invasive species.”
He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Are anole lizards invasive?”
Zoe’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, actually. They are.”
“But you saved one,” he said triumphantly. “You saved that green lizard!”
“Okay, but I didn’t keep it as a pet. That thing is a wild animal, and not even a native one. Mongooses kill native birds and eat their eggs. They do a lot of damage.”
“So do cats! They kill birds all the time! Our neighbor’s cat in California used to eat hummingbirds! He caught them right out of the air! But it’s not his fault. It’s just his instincts.”
“Pete–”
“You wouldn’t hurt a kitten, would you?”
Zoe sighed and looked down at the pup that was curled against Pete’s chest. She was quiet for a long moment. Then she said, “You have to keep it warm if you want it to live.”
“Of course I want him to live,” he said fiercely.
“Well.” Zoe crossed her arms. “Don’t let it get cold.”
“I won’t.” Pete hurried upstairs, still cradling the mongoose pup like a baby.
When he was gone, Zoe gave Anne a long look.
“It’s illegal, you know.”
“What?”
“Keeping a mongoose as a pet. It’s against the law.”
“You can get a permit.” Noah said. “A friend of mine got one. It wasn’t easy. But it’s that or a thousand-dollar fine if they catch you.”
“That’s an expensive pet,” Anne said.
“No kidding.”
She sighed. “We’ll see if the little guy even pulls through. If he does, I’ll start looking into permits.”
“If it lives, you have to let it go eventually.” Claire sat at the kitchen table and grabbed a banana. “Like that kid with the pet racoon. It’s a wild animal.”
“Okay, but we’re not talking racoons on the mainland,” Zoe said. “It’s an invasive species.”
“Maybe we could have a vet neuter him first,” Anne suggested. “Trap and release, like feral cats.”
“Better than nothing, I guess.”
“Pete won’t want to let him go,” Claire said.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Anne told her. “A mongoose in the house was not on my to-do list for the day.”
She stepped out onto the back porch and took a breath of fresh air, closing her eyes against the bright white glare of the sky.
When she opened her eyes again, Noah was watching her from just a few feet away. Her pulse sped, even as her conscious mind grasped at practicalities.
“What color are you painting the roof?”
“Green.” There was an intensity in his gaze that had nothing to do with their conversation.
“Very Anne of Green Gables,” Zoe said sourly. She stepped outside, letting the screen door bang shut behind her. “Was that deliberate?”
“It was free,” Noah said, unruffled. “A client of mine bought way too much, and he told me to take what was left.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and stalked off to the ‘ohana unit.
“I’ll get your roof too,” Noah called, “if there’s enough paint left.”
She gave him a sarcastic thumbs-up without looking back.
“Charming,” Anne muttered.
“She’s not wrong,” he mused, looking up at the house.
“About what?”
“It’s going to end up looking like Green Gables. Your tourists will love it.”
Anne bit her lip, suddenly trying not to cry.
“What’s wrong?”
“Arriving homeless at Green Gables… that’s a narrative for a kid.
I should be past that. Off in Ingleside with a family of my own.
Instead I’m floundering. My business failed.
My marriage failed. I’ve got no home of my own, no Gilbert Blythe.
This isn’t what life was supposed to look like at forty-four. ”
“Anne?” Noah put one strong finger beneath her chin, and her breath caught in her throat. She turned to look at him and tried not to lose herself in the intensity of those dark eyes.
“He was never your Gilbert.”
They stood there for a moment, completely still. She couldn’t even take a breath.
Then Pete came to the window, and Noah pulled back.
“Mom, we can’t find any bottles.”
“Try grandma’s bathroom upstairs.”
“Am I allowed in there?”
“I’ll come help you look.”
Noah was still watching her, his expression unreadable. She smiled nervously and got a half-smile back, but there seemed to be a haunted look in his eyes. He turned away, breaking the spell, and she wondered whether she had imagined it.
A movement caught her eye, and she looked out to see Dawn walking towards them from the cliffs.
More and more now, she was getting out and moving instead of shuttering herself in her room. She usually opted for solitary walks rather than her old routines with friends, but still. It was progress.
Dawn didn’t notice them until she was already at the back steps. Then she gave a little start, coming back from whatever faraway thoughts were occupying her mind. She took in the equipment that Noah was putting together and then glanced up towards the roof.
“We don’t want any more leaks this winter,” he said lightly.
Dawn nodded in a distant sort of way. “Thank you, Noah.”
She continued on into the house, patting Anne’s shoulder in passing.
“Get your brother a cup of coffee, would you?”
Anne felt her cheeks color, and she gave Noah an exasperated glance.
“Once a Kalama kid, always a Kalama kid,” he said lightly.
“Right.” She cleared her throat. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”
“I’m good.” He held her gaze for a long moment. There was still a slight grin playing across his face, but his dark brown eyes were serious. “I don’t think of you as a sister, you know. I never did.”
Anne’s cheeks colored again as scenes from their last summer together flashed through her head. Noah knew exactly where her mind was; his grin took on a wicked edge.
“Well, no,” she said primly. “No, I should hope not.”
Noah laughed and gave her a knowing look.
“Do you need a hand with the roof?” she asked pointedly.
“No,” he said, relaxed. “I can manage.”
Anne opened her mouth to say something, then found that the English language had fled her brain altogether. She didn’t have anything to say; she just wanted to stand there with him a moment longer.
Which was exactly the sort of nonsense that she did not have time for.
“Right. Well. I guess I’ll go ask Dawn if she has any kitten formula lying around.”
“And soymilk.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes skyward.
“You call Grandma Dawn?” Claire said through the window, making her jump.
“Sometimes.” So many other kids had used ‘Dawn’ and ‘Mom’ interchangeably throughout her childhood that she’d grown up doing the same. Her mother never seemed to notice one way or another.
“Does that mean I can call you Anne?” Claire asked.
“Absolutely not.” She turned and pushed open the kitchen door.
The low, easy sound of Noah’s laughter followed her into the house.