Somewhere on Maui (an Accidental Matchmaker Novel) (11 page)

“I’m so happy to see you is all. I missed you guys so much.” Adam cleared his throat. “Where’s
your mom?”

“She dropped us off.” Diego’s voice had gone small.

“Great!” Adam injected his voice with enthusiasm even as he wondered how the heck he would manage it all. “How long? Overnight, I hope.”

“She said—until school starts.” Diego sounded worried. “She said you would want us.”

“Of course I do!” Adam sat up, keeping his arms around the kids, feeling the tension in their small bodies. “That’s awesome. School starts in two weeks. We’re going to make up for lost time.”

He wrapped his arms around them and stood up, bouncing one on either side above the ground. They giggled breathlessly as he toted them down the driveway to the front porch, leaving his truck where it stood. On the front porch, two bulging brightly colored kids’ backpacks rested on the top step. An envelope with his name on it was stuck in the screen door.

“Looks like she left me a note.” He was still sounding a little overhearty, he knew, but his mind was racing, thinking about care for the kids while he went to work. He’d have to call his sisters right away—they’d have ideas. In the meantime, he had them all to himself and the evening ahead.

“Grab
your backpacks. We have to set up the bunk beds for you. Your mom knew I’d come to live with Tutu,” he said as he unlocked the door. “When you guys first left, I called every day.”

“She said you didn’t call, but I heard you guys arguing on the phone,” Diego said. Adam turned back. With
their arms around the backpacks, the kids seemed so unkempt, so pathetic, he almost felt himself tearing up again.

“I called every day after you left.
Your mom, she was mad at me.”

“We know.” Serena, always a little more cautious. “But we kept asking to see you. Finally she said yes.”

“Only after Nannie and Papa said we had to move out,” Diego said to his sister, frowning.

“Huh.” Adam kept his voice neutral as his blood pressure spiked, thinking about what the kids had been
through. “Well, c’mon in. You guys must be hungry.”

“Starving!” Diego dropped his backpack on the couch.

“We ate some lychees without asking.” Serena sounded nervous.

Adam turned back, took the backpack from her and set it beside her brother’s. He scooped her into his arms. “
Mi casa es su casa. Mi lychee es su lychee
.” Diego laughed as he trotted into the kitchen, and Adam followed, carrying the serious little girl.

The kitchen sparkled with cleanliness and smelled of something lemony, thanks to Tami and Auntie June.

“Where’s Tutu?” Diego opened the fridge. It was stuffed with casserole dishes and Tupperware, carefully labeled. Without putting Serena down, Adam reached in and took out a glass dish marked “pork laulau.”

“Pop some holes in that plastic, will you, Diego?”

Diego pulled open the drawer, took out a fork and poked holes in the plastic covering the glass dish. “I can do it, Dad.” He put the dish into the microwave, set it on five minutes. “I make our food all the time.”

Adam’s breath hitched, thinking of the kids alone to fend for themselves. He squeezed Serena in response, got out a pitcher of lilikoi juice and poured each child and himself a glass, then pulled out a kitchen chair and sat. “Okay. I have to fill you kids in on what’s happening so we can figure it out together.”

Diego sat down, sipping his juice, eyes wide over the rim of the sturdy glass. Serena had tucked her face into Adam’s neck, arms tight around his shoulders. She hadn’t loosened her grip since he picked her up.

“So here’s the deal. Serena, sit up. I want you to hear this.”

Serena lifted her head, spotted the juice glass. She sipped thirstily. When she set it back down, he continued.

“Tutu is in the hospital. She’s had some health problems. That’s why I moved here—to help her out. She had a heart attack yesterday, and an operation. But it went very well, and she’s going to come home day after tomorrow and be feeling much better soon.”

Diego’s eyes had gotten even bigger. “Is she going to die?”

“No, of
course not.” Adam wished he felt as confident as he sounded. “She had an operation to clean her heart out just like a car that’s not running good, and she’s going to be a little tired at first, recovering, but she’s going to be a lot healthier in the long run. She’s going to be so excited to see you guys.”

The microwave dinged, and Diego hopped up, opened the door with his fork in hand.

“I know what to do, Dad.” Proud to demonstrate his independence, Diego peeled back the Saran Wrap and turned the laulau with the fork, stretched the plastic back over the dish, and reset the microwave for two minutes.

“It should sit for a few minutes after
it’s done,” he said.

“How old are you now, Diego? Twelve?” Adam squinted, scratched his head as if he couldn’t remember.

“Almost eight. And Nannie, she had me help in the kitchen.”

“Do Nannie and Papa know where you are?”

“I don’t know.” Diego appeared downcast.

“They were fighting with Mama after we were in bed,” Serena piped up. “They told her this can’t go on, and we’d have to move. And
then Mama came in and told us to pack our backpacks, and we spent the night at Uncle’s house.”

“Uncle who?” 

“Uncle. He never said. But he was mad we came.” Diego’s voice went shaky.

“Hmm. Sounds serious.” Adam controlled the anger Diego’s tale had summoned—dragged off in the middle of the night to her boyfriend’s? Cherisse had sunk to a new low. “I wonder if Nannie and Papa meant for
your mom to just take you away like that. I better give them a call and let them know where you are.”

Smiles of relief appeared on both the kids’ faces. Adam could guess what had gone on and that the grandparents had never meant them to be caught in the crossfire of a confrontation with
their daughter. He took his phone out and called the last number he had for his ex’s parents.

Josiah picked up right away. “Hello?”

“Hey, Papa Josiah. This is Adam.”

“Adam! Do you know where she took the children?” The frantic note in Josiah Vierra’s voice carried
through the phone loud and clear.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m calling about. The kids are here with me. She left a note, but I haven’t had time to read it.”

“Let me speak to them. Please.” The old man’s voice was still rough with concern, and Adam handed the phone to Diego. Maybe this was a good time to read the note Cherisse had left. Still carrying Serena, he retraced his steps through the house to the front door and retrieved the note.

“Got to see what
your mommy has to tell me.” He sat with Serena on one of the rocking chairs on the front porch and opened the envelope, unfolding the paper. Six months ago, when he’d last seen Serena, she’d just been learning to read and would have tried to sound out anything he put in front of her. Now she turned away and buried her face in his neck again.

Adam: I have to have some time to figure some things out, get on my feet again. You said you wanted the kids. Well, here they are. I hope I will have something set up for them by the time school starts. Here
’s my number if you need consent for the doctor or anything. Cherisse.

Cherisse Vierra. She’d captured his heart with her big laugh, sassy smile, and her love of life. He’d felt sorry for her, abandoned by a deadbeat boyfriend with a toddler and a baby. He’d fallen in love with the kids the minute he met them, and tired of waiting for “the one,” he’d married Cherisse after a whirlwind two-month courtship.

“Marry in haste, regret at leisure,” he still remembered his mom saying when the problems began, and it hadn’t taken them long to begin. His mom had also reminded Adam to be a man of his word and that the kids needed him.

He patted Serena’s warm back, feeling the knobs of her spine.

Diego returned to the front porch. “Here. Papa wants to speak to you.” Diego handed him the phone and sat in the other rocker.

“Hey, Papa Josiah.”

“I’m so sorry, Adam. She’s just run off. Got a new boyfriend. I’m ashamed she’s my daughter.”

“Just a minute.” Adam hit the volume button on the phone, turning it down as the old
man’s voice came through the receiver. He pried Serena off him, setting her in the rocking chair as he stood up. “Why don’t you kids go grab some of that laulau while I talk business with your grandpa for a little while?”

Adam walked back
through the house and into his room, shutting the door for privacy. “I came home from work and the kids were in the yard. She’d just left them there.”

“Well, we’ll come right over and get them. You don’t have to be burdened with this.”

“No, no, please.” Adam sucked a breath to calm panic at the thought of losing the children so soon after he got them back. “I am in a bit of a bind, though. My mother, who would normally be able to watch them while I’m at work, is in the hospital.” More exclamations and explanations. “Tomorrow’s Friday. I’ll call in sick and keep them with me through the weekend; I think it’ll be great for Mama to see them when she gets home from the hospital on Saturday. Then we can work something out next week. But whatever Cherisse told you, I want the kids in my life. I’ve been trying to see them ever since she left.”

“I know.” Josiah sighed heavily. “She said you hit her. And the kids.”

Adam’s heart plummeted even as rage swept over him in a flash of heat. He did Dr. Suzuki breaths until he could answer calmly.

“I hope you believe me when I tell you that’s not true.”

“I didn’t think so, but she was so upset when she first came. That’s why we wouldn’t take your calls. But as time went on, we saw what you must have been dealing with—the drinking. Late hours. All that.”

Adam did a couple more deep breaths. “I never hit her. Never. And I love the kids. I’ve been the best dad I could be to them. I’d just told her the drinking had to stop or we were splitting up. I should have tried harder to adopt the kids before I confronted her, so I could have some parental rights.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re having this talk, and hopefully between us, we can cover what the kids need. The kids love you, and they need theirdad.
”

Adam was warmed by Josiah’s words, and they discussed the imminent onset of school. “Cherisse says in her note she plans to pick them up before school starts. I’m hoping she won’t, and they can stay with me at
their old school, where they have so many friends. And then come see you guys on the weekends,” Adam said.

A long moment as Papa Josiah digested this, gave a heavy sigh. “Doing it all, taking them to school every day, keeping up with all
their sports and meetings—it was really a lot for us, and Cherisse did some of it at least. If we have to do it all this school year ourselves—well, Karen’s health isn’t the best.”

“
Then you won’t oppose me if I start some legal proceedings to get guardianship?” Adam’s mind was on overdrive, lining up the steps that he would have to take next. “Maybe we can share that?”

“We’d be okay with that. I don’t want to see Cherisse dragging the kids all over the island, chasing her boyfriend or whatever. Let’s work together to give them a stable home. I’m sorry I ever listened to her lies. In my heart, I knew they weren’t true—but she’s my daughter.”

“It’s okay,” Adam said, even as he felt the hurt of his many calls to the Vierrras’ home, trying to arrange a visit with the kids, only to be hung up on.

He’d just given up too soon.

They said goodbye with an agreement for frequent communication, and Adam started working his phone to call his lawyer. He was deep in conversation about “demonstrating parental abandonment” when a knock came on the door.

“Dad, the
laulau is getting cold,” Diego said. “And Serena misses you.”

Adam wrapped up his conversation and headed into the kitchen, sniffing loudly. “Something’s ready for eating, I can tell!”

Much later, the kids fed, bathed, read to, and tucked into bed in his sisters’ old room with its twin bunks, Adam sat down at his computer.

Even with all the drama of the day, he still felt a twinge of excitement—maybe Zoe had replied to his note. He logged into the dating
site, ignoring the other messages he’d received and scrolling down until he found her reply.

Adam, I feel so silly
for overreacting like that! I apologize for my harsh words. I want to tell you something more—the real reason I was so conflicted meeting you. I’m a journalist, and I’m writing a story about Internet dating. Yes, I’m recently divorced, but I never expected to actually meet anyone I liked on a Crazy Blind Date, and it made me really nervous. So I said what I said because I chickened out of telling you about the article. But I’m telling you up front that, as good as the material is, I don’t intend to include our meeting and the subsequent fiasco in the article. I shouldn’t have tried to write this piece when I was really not ready to date, but I need to finish it. If you’re still interested when I feel ready, I too would like a redo of our meeting. And in the spirit of honesty, the number I gave you was bogus, and so was my profile. Check it again for what I’m really like, if you care to. Again, I’m sorry for all this, and I hope you’ll bear with me until I’m ready to date as my true self, heart scars and all.