Chapter 17 Anne
Anne
Anne headed into town on another glorious Hawaiian morning.
It had rained overnight, as it so often did in Pualena, and the clouds gave way to blue skies as she drove up from the cliffs. A resplendent double rainbow arched across the sky, shining bright against the early-morning blue.
Just one week after getting everything set up online, the rooms she’d readied were all fully booked for summer. The current guests were all in one group, and they had requested a five o’clock breakfast before driving north to zipline over waterfalls.
Anne was happy to oblige. She got up in the dark and made a simple, hearty breakfast: sweet coconut oatmeal and a big platter of local fruit.
By dawn, her work for the day was done. She left breakfast bowls in the fridge for the kids and drove into town, grateful to finally have her own car.
Shipping it over from the mainland had taken a couple of weeks, and it was a long wait.
Checking with Dawn each time she needed to run an errand made her feel like a kid again in the worst way.
Main Street was quiet this early in the day, but there were already a few cars parked outside the hardware store. She found a free spot in the gravel lot and walked inside, feeling a mix of love and pain as she tread on her dad’s home turf. The men inside were all friends of his.
She missed him terribly, but she also felt cozy and safe walking into a store full of Uncles who had known her all her life. She had missed that easy sense of security during her decades on the mainland. No matter how many years she spent in San Diego, she had never regained that feeling of home.
“Hey there, Annie,” said the man behind the counter. “What can I get you?”
“Hey Jim. I need a wood planer, I guess? Or a door trimmer? I’ve got a door that sticks every time it rains.”
“I can fix that,” said a warm, low voice. Noah appeared from one of the aisles and fixed her with that look that never failed to get under her skin; there was an intense focus in his dark eyes that belied his easy smile.
“So can I,” she said stubbornly.
“I’m sure you can, but there’s no point buying a door trimmer when I’ve got one in my truck. No offense, Jim.”
“None taken.” The Uncle was looking between Anne and Noah like his favorite show had just come on the TV.
Noah winked at him and turned back to Anne. “Let me fix it for you.”
She huffed a sigh, shrugged in agreement, and walked back outside.
“Did you eat breakfast yet?” he asked, following her.
She looked at his empty hands. “Weren’t you in there for a reason?”
“I’m not in a rush.” He moved in front of her and walked backwards through the parking lot, keeping his eyes on hers. Then he paused, forcing her to either stop or swerve around him.
She stopped.
“How’s that baby mongoose doing?” he asked.
“Still alive.” Anne bit her lip and tried not to smile. She hated how easily he could charm her – one simple question and her irritation melted away.
“That’s good. Your kid seemed pretty attached already.”
“Pete’s got a soft heart.”
“Kind of like his mama.”
“I’m tough as nails,” Anne blustered. Somewhere in that short conversation, she’d already lost the battle against that smile. She was grinning at him.
“Sure,” he agreed easily. “But beneath that toughness there’s a heart as big as the island. I still remember the kittens you’d bring home every other week. Goopy-eyed, pathetic little things.”
“Their crying drove Oakley crazy,” she remembered. The tiny kittens had needed round-the-clock care, and her sisters had always helped, albeit reluctantly. “But I never brought home a mongoose pup.”
“You would have,” Noah said. “If you’d found one.”
She grinned again. “Probably.”
“I was going to get breakfast while I’m in town. Come with me?”
“I already ate.”
“Ate what? Half a papaya?”
She narrowed her eyes, and he laughed.
“Some things never change. Come on. Isn’t it about time for second breakfast?”
“I never liked that place.” She gestured dismissively at the Pualena Cafe.
“It’s under new management. The food is phenomenal, cross my heart.”
Anne opened her mouth and found that she had run out of reasons not to join him. She was hungry, and there was nothing to rush back to. The kids had stayed up way too late the night before watching old movies with Dawn; they’d probably sleep past ten.
“Fine.”
“You flatterer, you,” Noah said.
A shock of electricity ran up Anne’s arm when he grabbed her hand and pulled her across the street.
He released her once they were across, and it took all of her willpower to stop herself from reaching out and lacing her fingers through his.
Inside, the old cafe was different than she remembered. It was packed, for one thing, despite the early hour. Instead of old grease, the air smelled of fresh pastries and lilikoi juice.
One of the booths cleared, and Noah slid in before it was even clean.
A group of tourists glared at Anne as she slid in across from him.
“You jumped the line,” she said in a stage whisper.
He winked. “I have a standing reservation.”
A busy server cleared the table and cleaned it with a quick swipe of her towel. She dropped a menu in front of Anne and moved on to another table that was waving her down.
“What about you?” Anne asked.
“I’ve got it memorized.”
“Never learned to cook?”
“Not as well as Alfie Nakamura.”
“Little Alfie Nakamura?” She glanced over her shoulder like the scrawny kid she remembered might walk out of the kitchen. “That’s who’s running this place now?”
“Not so little anymore. He bought it from his uncle a few years back.”
“He’s closer to Zoe’s age than ours.”
“Zoe’s not so little either,” he said gently.
“Yes, right, we’re ancient.”
“You don’t look ancient.” Noah’s voice was warm, and Anne’s cheeks heated as she looked down at the menu.
It was covered in detailed drawings – hibiscus flowers, tropical fish, papaya trees – and it was a moment before she was able to fix her attention on the food.
By the time she decided what to order, the server had brought them two cups of coffee and a huge croissant.
“You’ve gotta try this,” Noah said. He tore the pastry in half, and a white filling oozed out of the center.
“Yuck!”
“What do you mean, yuck?”
“That looks like puss.”
Noah laughed. It was such a big, booming sound that several of the other customers turned to smile at him.
“Your croissant is infected,” she said, doubling down.
“It’s a cornetto, and it’s filled with macadamia cream. You’ve gotta try it.”
Reluctantly, she dabbed the tip of her pinky finger into the off-white glop that had spilled out onto the plate. She brought it to her mouth and–
“Wow.”
“Right?” Noah grinned at her and took a huge bite of his half. She picked up the other half and nibbled at it. The buttery pastry was a perfect complement to the rich, nutty, not-too-sweet filling.
“It’s like a malasada, but better.”
“Blasphemy,” he said. “But you might be right.”
She washed it down with a swig of coffee. A good local brew, she tasted immediately – not some mainland junk.
“Okay,” Anne said reluctantly. “You win. I’m a convert.”
“You can see why I’ve given up cooking breakfast at home.”
She glanced back down at the menu and winced at the prices. “Construction pays that well, huh?”
“I keep busy,” he said, unbothered.
“I’ve been busy all my life, and yet here I am.”
“Eating a gourmet pastry in paradise?”
“Flat broke. Living with my mother.”
“It’s a blip.”
“A what?”
“A blip. You’re just… catching your breath.”
“That’s one way to look at it.” She looked down at the napkin she held in her lap, unconsciously shredding the edges. “I’ve been meaning to thank you.”
“What for?”
“Being there for my family. Helping my mom. Being there for Zoe. I never realized…”
“They’re my family too,” he said gently. “It wasn’t–” He ran a hand through his dark hair, searching for the right words. “It wasn’t altruistic, being there for Zoe. I wanted to see her grow up.”
Anne flinched, then nodded.
“My dad was never around. I didn’t want that for Zoe. I mean, she had Kimo. But I wanted to be there for her.” His hand moved towards her across the table without him even seeming to realize it. “I wanted to be there for you, too.”
“But I shut you out,” she acknowledged, her voice small and quiet.
“Why?”
“You were too good.”
“Too good for you?” he asked, incredulous.
She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was scared, I guess. I felt… trapped.”
“By me?”
She started to shake her head again, then paused and shrugged. “You, my family… Pualena, the ocean, all of it. My life on the island. I wanted out. And I knew that if I let you in, I would so easily fall into that fantasy of a happy family.”
“It didn’t have to be a fantasy,” he said, so quietly that she barely heard him.
“We were young, Noah. We were so young. I had ambitions. I wanted to build a life of my own, away from Pualena. I didn’t see how I could possibly do that with a baby.”
“Or with me,” he said quietly.
“Or with you. That’s what I meant, when I said that you were too good. I knew that if I really let you in, I wouldn’t want to leave.”
“Would that have been so bad?”
“I thought so. At the time. I was still just a kid, Noah. I wasn’t ready to be a mom.
I wasn’t ready for a real relationship. I wasn’t ready to be a grown-up.
” She sighed and leaned back in her seat.
“I can’t regret my choices. If I hadn’t left, I wouldn’t have Claire or Peter… But I regret staying away so long.
“You’re here now.”
“I’m here too late. She’s grown.” Anne pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, willing herself not to cry in the middle of a busy restaurant.
When she brought her hands back down to the table, Noah’s hand enveloped them both. It was warm and dry and rough from work.
She moved one of her hands on top of his, letting his steadiness calm her.
“I wanted to be a mother to Zoe, but I was scared. I knew that I could never measure up to Dawn and Kimo. And so when she pushed me away… I let her. I stayed away. And I shouldn’t have.
I was an adult by then, and she was just little.
I should have kept trying. I should have been there for her. She has every right to hate me.”
He squeezed her hand. “She doesn’t hate you, Annie. And it’s not too late.”
“Yeah, well–” The server came to set their plates on the table, and Anne pulled her hands back. “I guess time will tell.”