Page 87 of Big Island Sunrise
“We haven’t decided yet. We’ve been researching different places. But Laurel loves it there, and Juniper has been talking about the agriculture program there at the University of Hilo. If you’re there a while, we’d love to come visit you and check it out.”
“Yeah, of course, I’d love that.”
“Juniper is in college-level classes.” His voice was a mix of bewilderment and pride. “She could get her diploma, or whatever it is, the one kids can test for to get out of high school early. She’s already taking classes here at Cabrillo, and then she wants to transfer somewhere else.
“We’re ready to follow her wherever she goes. We don’t want her to feel like the new baby is replacing her. We want to be a family, even if she’s living in college dorms and just coming to us to eat a solid meal and wash her clothes. After all that she’s been through, we want to be close enough for her to be able to do that.”
“Ethan, that’s beautiful. And she definitely wants to come here?”
“There is no definitely with Jun,” he said wryly. “But yeah, she’s real excited about the permaculture stuff over there, food forests and all that. The kind of stuff that Toni’s into.”
“This is the place for it,” Emma said as she walked through the lush greenery of their neighborhood. She slowed and looked through the fence as she passed the Kealoha place. Freddy ran through the undergrowth, trailed by her ducklings.
“Well I’ll talk to my girls about making an exploratory trip out there,” he said. “Sometime after the baby’s born.”
“We’ll be here,” she said with newfound certainty.
“I’ll let you go find that dog of yours.”
“Okay. Talk soon.”
Emma pocketed her earbuds and walked on through her neighborhood, this tropical place that overflowed with greenery and the smell of growing things.
She would go back to Redwood Grove – probably sooner rather than later, to clear their things out of the house and either rent or sell the place. And although she would probably live there again someday, close to her aging parents, she felt no pull to move back. Not yet.
Adam had lived and died in California, but he was born here, on this island. He had grown up here. And she felt him all around her: in the warm breeze, the smell of the trees, the tropical sunshine.
For now, at least, this place was home.
27
Lani
The road that ran from Pualena down to the coast had no sidewalk.
Lani walked along the thin strip of green that grew between the asphalt road and the fences that marked property lines. In some places it was a neatly cropped stretch of lawn. In others, the weeds were so high that she had to walk around them in the street.
She called periodically for Kai’s dog, but she wasn’t feeling optimistic. Surely, if nothing was wrong, he would have run home by now.
Diogee never stayed away this long. Occasionally he would sprint off through an empty lot, chasing a mongoose through the trees, but he always showed up panting at the front gate about five minutes later, fifteen at most.
He wouldn’t have gone far. Maybe some well-meaning neighbor had taken him in off the street. So she kept calling out. If nothing else, a woman calling for her dog should catch the attention of whoever had him.
She tried not to think of him dead on the side of the road, but she still found herself looking under every bush.
“Lani!” The sudden shout made her jump.
A split second later she recognized Tenn’s voice. She caught sight of him down the road, looking better than he had any right to in faded boardshorts and an old Pualena Café t-shirt. He jogged towards her up the side road, and she looked away without really meaning to.
“What are you doing here?” She kept walking, bending slightly to look through the greenery.
“I live here,” he said lightly. He pointed down the side street to his truck. “I just dropped Olivia off at the co-op.”
“Right.” She paused to push a branch aside and peer through the young trees of an empty lot.
“What are you looking for?”
“Kai’s dog. Tree took down the fence line, and he got out this morning before we realized. He’s gotten out a dozen times before, the fence is so old and slumped. But he always comes right back home. He’s been gone for hours this time.”
