Page 76 of Big Island Sunrise
“That bastard.” She was crying now, really crying. Bright red blood pooled on her elbow, but she hardly felt the burn of the scrape or the gravel stuck in her skin. Zeke’s words spiraled through her head over and over again.
So Rory was small. So was she.
Her daughter was vibrantly healthy. She was so smart.
Howdarehe call her malnourished?
“Lani?” Tenn was there, kneeling in front of her, and she got the feeling that he had said her name more than once before she clued in. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head, and more tears spilled out. She couldn’t speak. If she tried, she would start sobbing.
“This is all my fault. A parking lot first lesson straight to off roading was too much of a leap. Can I see your arm?”
It was just a skinned elbow, no real damage, but she couldn’t find the breath to tell him as much. So she let him take her arm in gentle hands, bending her elbow and wrist with exquisite tenderness to make sure that nothing was broken or sprained. She didn’t know what to make of a man who touched her with such care.
She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face against her knees, embarrassed by her tears. Tenn’s hand hung in the air just beyond her shoulder, like he couldn’t decide whether to comfort her or leave her be.
“Do you want to walk back?” he asked softly.
“I can’t do this.” The words rushed from her unbidden, followed by sobs.
“It’s okay. We can just walk the bikes back. Whenever you’re ready.”
“No. This.” She picked her head up for a moment and moved her uninjured arm, gesturing between his chest and hers. “I can’t do this.”
He rocked back on his heels, and a small line appeared between his eyebrows.
“I’m in the middle of a divorce, I’m a single mom, I can’t… I just can’t. It’s too much.” Lani hung her head and sobbed.
She unclipped the helmet and let it fall to the ground. The sun shone down on her hair and it drank in the heat, welcome after so many years of weak northern sunshine.
Slowly her sobs subsided. Tenn stayed where he was, quiet. When she finally looked up at him again, he was looking out at the ocean.
“I’m sorry.” She wiped the tears from her face and swiped at her nose with the edge of her sleeve.
“Lani, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He turned to look at her, his smile soft and sad. “This doesn’t have to be more than it is.”
“And what is it?” She sniffed and wiped at her nose again.
Tenn pulled a bandana out of his pocket and handed it to her. “It’s whatever you need it to be.”
She blew her nose and looked away, out at the endless ocean.
“You don’t have to do this alone.”
She shut her eyes, suddenly unutterably tired. “I want to go home.”
“Okay.” He stood and offered her a hand. “Let’s get you home.”
24
Emma
Emma was astonished to see the sole surviving kitten go nose to nose with their sixty-pound pup.
They fed Diogee mostly raw meat, inexpensive scraps that they bought in huge bags from a rancher with land up in Waimea. He drove his truck full of beef and lamb down to Pualena once a week, and they stocked up on food for themselves and scraps for the dog.
Zuko got plenty of kitten formula out of bottles and piles of canned food, but that didn’t stop him from running right up to Diogee’s bowl of ground beef.
