Page 5 of Big Island Horizons
The how… well, that part she was still figuring out.
Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket, and so she brushed the dirt from her hands and checked to see who was calling. The number wasn’t saved to her phone.
“Pualena Playschool, this is ‘Olena.”
“‘Olena, thank goodness,” Georgia sighed. “I had to go online to find your number. It’s a full-on comedy of errors over here. First my car died, and then I dropped my phone for the umpteenth time and now it won’t turn on, so I’m calling from Gary’s. Kacie spiked a fever this morning, so we won’t be able to meet you at thekeikibeach tomorrow.”
“No worries,” ‘Olena said, though her heart sank at the idea of finding someone to cover for her at the last minute.
“Thanks. Hopefully we’re one hundred percent by Wednesday and we can join you then. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, take care.” ‘Olena disconnected the call and sent a message out through the group chat, asking if anyone could cover for Georgia. Then she pocketed her phone and went back to planting hibiscus cuttings.
From the beginning, she had run the co-op with the help of parent volunteers. These days, there were too many kids to manage on her own if a parent didn’t show up for their allotted shift. Sooner or later, she was going to have to hire another teacher to work with her full time.
For now, she would just have to figure out how to make a go of it. Worst case scenario, she could ask her brother to cover Lani’s shift at his shave ice place so that their cousin could help her out at the beach tomorrow.
“You need an extra parent tomorrow?” Nate’s voice startled her. For a big man, he sure could move quietly. She got up with deliberate slowness and turned around.
“Says who?”
“Coconut wireless,” he joked.
She pursed her lips and frowned at him. “I forgot you were in the group chat.”
He spread his hands and shrugged. “My daughters are in the co-op.”
She hummed quietly in acknowledgement.
“Where are they, anyway?”
“Playing in the backyard.” Last she checked, they were making potions. Mud and mulch and flowers in a variety of pots and mixing bowls. It was amazing how long odds and ends from the transfer station could entertain kids, especially when there was mud and water to play with.
“Can we talk?” Nate asked.
She nodded and settled down on the front step, resting her back and legs after a morning of crouching over her transplants.
Nate sat next to her.
She simultaneously enjoyed and resented the feeling of having him so near. He was their family’s missing piece, and she had spent so many years trying to convince herself that nothing was missing.
Even now, the sheer size of him put her at ease. There weren’t many people taller than her, and for whatever reason, they had always made her feel safe. Maybe because her father was such a mountain of a man, and he had always made her feel protected and calm. Nate was cut from the same cloth.
But her father never would have left his family, no matter what sort of job or promotion or pay raise he was offered. Her dad had been there for them, always. He still was.
Before Nate got around to saying whatever it was that he had to say, her phone buzzed again.
“Go ahead and answer it,” he said. “I can wait.”
She sighed and stood, walking a few steps across the thick green lawn. “Pualena Playschool.”
“‘Olena, it’s Hana.”
“Auntie!” Her heart skipped and sped. Hana was her contact at the Office of the County Clerk. There was only one for the entire island of Hawai’i, and their little town rarely made the docket. “It’s good to hear from you.”
“She said yes.” Hana cut right to the point. “There’s no funding for bills or staff, but if you can cover that, New Horizons can remain open.”
“Perfect. That’s all I need. Thank you.”
