Somewhere on Maui (an Accidental Matchmaker Novel) (3 page)

“I tried. Met with a lawyer. Said it would be a long, expensive thing proving ‘best interests of the child.’ I got discouraged, didn’t want to drag them through that with their mother bad-mouthing me to them along the way.”

“Does she have any ammunition to use against you? Any experiences of this anger we’ve been talking about?” Dr. Suzuki’s delicate inflection implied what he knew she wasn’t coming right out and asking.

“Did I ever abuse her or the kids, you mean. No. Never.” He found himself breathing hard, his arms folded tight. She inclined her head in a graceful, accepting nod.

“In
through the nose, one-two-three. Out through the mouth, one-two-three-four-five.”

He let her lead him
through a couple more breaths and was surprised to feel his arms unfold and his blood pressure recede. “I’d come home from work, and she’d have Diego and Serena parked in front of the television, all the drapes pulled. She’d smoke and be passed out drunk on the couch.” He leaned forward, consciously loosening his hands to hang them between his knees. “I tried not to yell at her in front of the kids. I’d fix them a snack, send them outside, then throw the drapes open and move her into the back bedroom. Nothing I did seemed to slow down her drinking.”

“Alcoholism is a disease. People suffering from it need help.”

“That’s a cop-out.” Adam ran his hand through his hair in agitation. “Even if she was at the addiction phase—and I get that she was—she should have given a shit about what she was doing to the children. To us as a family.”

Dr. Suzuki waited a long beat, and he did a relaxation breath.

“You can’t control other people.”

Adam sighed, sat back. “Sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

“I don’t mean to oversimplify or minimize your pain. But it’s just a fact—we can’t control others; we can’t make them do what we think they should. And then how do we handle that?”

“Not well.” He gave a little laugh.

“Well, I can tell there’s more to this story and to what’s frustrating you. Is there anything more going on at the job that’s triggering your anger?”

Adam’s mind flashed to Alixia Lepler’s shiny red fingernail brushing his nipple in the work shirt. “Got some problems with my boss.”

“Tell me more.”

“She’s a spoiled bitch, pardon the language. Her husband is a rich guy working all the time; she’s in charge of the build project, and her favorite thing is to come down to the
site and flirt with me. If I’m not in the mood, which is usually, she makes my life miserable with extra work, changes on the plans, complaining about the workers.”

“Sounds like she’s sexually harassing you.”

Adam paused, frowned. “I didn’t think of it that way, but I guess you’re right. You’d think I’d be all over it; everyone says she’s a beautiful woman. But I don’t like her, and I don’t sleep with my employers or employees.”

“So how have you handled it?”

“I pretend it’s not going on. I ignore her as much as she lets me. I try to walk away. But yesterday she changed out some wood that will slow things down by days and gave me her number, made it clear what she wanted. I’m tempted to just give it to her and hope she leaves me alone after that.”

“What’s tempting about that option?”

“Well, it might get me and the guys out of the jam we’re in since she went on the prowl. It’s also been a while since I—had any action, so I’m thinking I could probably do the job.” Adam felt his face heat up. It was so weird to be talking about sex this way, with a woman. But it was liberating too, to see she wasn’t shocked and there was no agenda there—he didn’t have to worry about her opinion. He dropped his shoulders consciously, relaxing them.

“Sleeping with her might carry some risks too,” Dr. Suzuki said.

“I know. She could be trying to trap me somehow. She could blackmail me or something, say I came onto her to her husband. Either way, I’m screwed.”

Dr. Suzuki didn’t react to the crude word, and Adam reached forward, traced a design in the sand tray. “It would be so much easier if I had a girlfriend or was married—I could use that to fend her off.”

“So do you feel ready to date again?”

“Yeah, I do. Cherisse and I weren’t really together for months before she left. But with my work schedule, I don’t have a clue how to meet anyone. I don’t have time to go hang around bars, and I’m kind of picky.”

“Hmm. What are you looking for in a woman?”

Adam felt his face heat up again. “This is a funny kind of anger management.”

“I work with people holistically, so we explore all the areas of your life you might want to make changes in. Anger is a natural reaction to being hurt or threatened, and exploring and resolving sources of anger is a key to long-term success.”

“Okay.” Adam sat back, gazed at the ceiling, feeling an unexpected flutter of something. He thought it might be hope—hope that his life could get better. Hope that he could find someone to love, who would love him back. Just entertaining the idea felt good. “I want someone intelligent. And hot. Who does her own thing and is proud of it. Doesn’t need me but wants me.” He focused on Dr. Suzuki. “I don’t know where I’d find someone like that on
Maui. Seems like all the good ones are already married.”

“Have you thought of online dating?”

“Always thought that was the last resort for losers.”

“A common misconception.” Two red spots appeared on Dr. Suzuki’s pale cheeks. “I met my husband online.”

“Really? Sorry, I meant no disrespect.”

She flipped a hand dismissively. “Well, another way to look at it is that we do so much of our lives online now, why wouldn’t we use the Internet as a tool to meet people? Our time is about up, but can I see you twice a week to start? We can knock
your six sessions out quickly that way.”

“Sure, the job
site’s not far, and this is my lunch break.” They confirmed a biweekly meeting, and Adam stood, headed for the door. Dr. Suzuki followed. He retrieved the rubber slippers that he wore when not in construction gear from the rack outside the inner door. She followed him through the waiting room, a simple area outfitted with plants and rattan furniture.

“This wasn’t that bad,” he said.

“Glad to hear it. How helpful it is, is entirely up to you.” She followed him to the outer door and gave a little wave and smile, closing it behind him.

Adam was surprised to find himself smiling too as he unlocked his truck. Online dating? What the hell. If someone like Dr. Suzuki found love online, it couldn’t be all losers out
there.

Zoe arrived at the Maui Coffee Roasters Café a few minutes early for her Crazy Blind Date. She’d dressed in a simple black tank dress with low-heeled strappy sandals and had pulled her hair into a loose knot. The computer had matched her with somebody “within a sixty-five percent compatibility match” and given her a selection of three possible places and times to meet the person. She was supposed to carry a red rose to identify herself, a totally cheesy touch—and he was supposed to carry one too.

There
weren’t too many customers during the pre-dinner hour at the popular local coffee shop with its pop-art decor and hip young baristas. She quickly scanned the seated customers armed with laptops and lattes, spotted no roses, and parked herself in a far corner with a view of the front door. She placed the rose in her lap, feeling silly and vulnerable and way more scared than she should be. She checked her makeup in her mirror: Perhaps the “smoky eye, naked lip” style she’d tried was too big-city for Maui. Uncertain, she put her sunglasses back down over her eyes—which seemed startlingly large and bright green, set off with a line of kohl around them and plum eye shadow on the lids.

In any case, this was a job, she reminded herself. She wasn’t dating; she was experiencing something and interviewing for a story. She’d debated whether it was better to be late or early and had chosen early in the end because, frankly, she was a little bit of a control freak. She took out her phone for something to do and
lay the rose on the table at her elbow. She cued up Words With Friends and was just entering a good word,
xu
, to her friend Michelle when the bell tinkled over the door and a man came in.

He was large and backlit, and the sun gleamed off a round bald head echoed by muscles like bowling balls distending a white tank shirt. He walked up to the counter and ordered. “Chocolate chip cookie and a soy latte.”

Definitely not her date. She hated bodybuilding—classic male overcompensating. She glanced down at her Words game. Michelle sent her a swear word and punctuation forming a middle finger, and she smiled.

“Is this seat taken?” The bodybuilder set a wilting red rose beside hers. He had an unexpectedly high voice and an accent.

“Not if you’re on a Crazy Blind Date.” Zoe’s voice had gone high as well. Dear God. Had she told the computer anything about her abhorrence to bodybuilding? She didn’t think so, come to think of it…

“I am on crazy date,” he said as he set gigantic elbows on the table, leaned in, and smiled. A gold chain as thick as her pinkie finger dangled on a chest bigger
than hers.

“So. Hi. I’m Zoe.” Her smile felt stiff.

“Zoe. Means life.”

“Yes, it does. And you are?”

“Oh sorry. I am so struck by your beauty I forget my manners.” He extended a meaty hand. “I’m Lukas.”

“Lukas. Hello.” Her hand disappeared in his. She had a quick flash of them in bed, him throwing her in the air or maybe just squashing her with a hug like a python. “Crazy to be on this blind a date, huh?”

“I do it every week.” He sat back, folded his bulging arms. “I meet so many passionate women this way.”

“Really.”

“Soy latte and chocolate chip cookie!” hollered the barista. Lukas got up and walked on tree-trunk legs to the bar. Zoe messaged Michelle:
OMG. I’m on a date with a bodybuilder!

He came back, set the latte down, and broke the cookie in half. Offered her half. “For you.”

“Thanks.”  She took it, nibbled. “So, since you do this every week, tell me what we do next. This is my first Internet date ever. Where do we go from here?”

“We go have sex, if you like.” Lukas had just taken a sip of his latte, and soy milk decorated his carefully groomed mini-mustache.

“Not my style.” Zoe’s cheeks heated up. Was he for real?

He lifted an arm, flexed. The muscle popped up, and he made it dance back and forth, undulating on his arm. “I can do lots of this kind of thing.”

“Okay. Cool. Where are you from?”

“
Brazil. I come to surf the big waves on Maui.”

“Wow. So what do you usually talk about with
your latest blind date?”

“We talk if we like the same things. But not much usually.” Lukas appeared crestfallen, his vast shoulders sagging. “I’m not good with the words. I have videos though. You want to see?”

“Okay.” She watched videos on his phone of him towing into giant waves at the famous surf break on Maui they called Jaws. She’d never heard of it. After that, there was lifting a giant barbell in a contest and one paired with “Eye of the Tiger” of Lukas singlehandedly hauling a broken-down Jeep through an unplanted sugarcane field.

“Wow,” Zoe said again, as she watched a video of him pop-and-lock dancing in a club with three scantily clad
women.

“You like?” He did have a nice smile, and his hopeful brown eyes reminded her of her golden retriever, Ginny, who’d
died of old age before her move to Maui. It was those eyes that made her say, “You are a great guy, Lukas, but I don’t think the chemistry is here.”

“The chemistry?” He leaned forward, frowning. He blocked all the light from the doorway.

“I don’t want to waste your time. I’m sorry. You’re just not my type.”

“You like smaller
men?”

“No. No,
it’s not that.” She sighed a breath. “Okay, yeah, it’s a little bit of that. I’m not as physical a person as you. I like to talk. I like to do things together.”

“I can do things.” He stretched his arms out, did a muscle undulation that went from one set of fingertips up his arm, across his considerable shoulders and down the other arm, then off the ends of his enormous hands. She swallowed giggles.

“Yes. That’s awesome. Just not my thing. Thanks for the cookie.” Zoe stood and grabbed her purse and rose. “Nice to meet you, Lukas.”

“I like pop and lock!” she heard the barista, a tattooed young
woman sporting a head scarf and dreads, call to Lukas from the bar. “I’ll go out with you!”

Zoe fled to her Beetle, beeped it open, hopped in, locked it, and pulled out with a screech of wheels
.
Right on cue, her phone rang.

“A bodybuilder? What? You hate those steroid-enhanced vanity boys!” Michelle exclaimed.
Her friend’s voice had a froggy quality to it, a vibration that had always made Zoe want to smile.

“Oh my God,” Zoe said, pulling onto the main road
through Kahului and heading for her little cottage in Paia. She told Michelle the details. “This is actually really good stuff for the article. I didn’t get permission to include him in it, though. I lost my focus, what with the videos and his dance moves. I wonder if I can disguise him enough so he can’t tell it’s him…”

“A two-hundred-pound giant-wave-surfing Brazilian bodybuilder?
Seems pretty distinctive.”

“Well, at least I’ve had my first Internet-generated blind date. Feels like losing my virginity or something, and Lukas was a really nice guy. I just can’t figure out how the computer matched us up.”

“Don’t forget. You filled out a fake profile. Maybe the Zoe you put up there would have really dug him.”

“Oh God,
you’re right. Now here I am, all dressed up and nowhere to go.”

“Go have a drink at a bar or something.”

“Okay.” But in the end, that wasn’t what she did. Instead, she’d pulled in to her little apartment, picked up her dog, drove back to one of the beach parks, and walked Sylvester down the beach, picking up bits of trash along the way.

The little silky terrier was still getting used to the heady dog freedom of
Maui, where he could roam without a leash on some beaches and dig ghost crabs out of their holes. He bounded ahead of her and dug until he began to disappear. Zoe laughed as she watched him, enjoying the feeling of the yellow coral sand between her toes, the evening wind in her hair, and the changing colors of the sunset on the ocean. It felt especially good to pick up the trash as they walked. Every time she bent over, picking up a dented water bottle or bottle cap, she felt like she was doing a little something for her new island home, and even though the waves washed up to erase her footprints, she made new ones with every step.

Maybe it had taken six months to realize she was really here, becoming a part of this incredible place.