Page 81 of Catch a Kiwi
“There you go,” the old man agreed. “My favorite day.”
33
AN ARROGANT MAN
Roman
The hangi was uncovered at last, the old man’s great-grandsons wielding the shovels that shifted the mound of dirt out of the enormous pit that was a homemade Maori steam oven. When they pulled the blankets back, a cloud of fragrant steam rose into the air, and I realized how hungry I was. The baskets came out of the ground, the food was put on a serving table that practically groaned under its weight, and I took a plate when my turn came around and piled it with chicken and pork and lamb, kumara and pumpkin and potato and cabbage, and slices off rounds of crusty bread smeared with fresh butter, while Summer followed behind me, piled her plate considerably less high, and didn’t say much at all. I asked her, “Doing OK?” and she gave me the I’m-fine smile that drove me mad and said, “Of course. How about you?”
“Me?” I said. “Why?”
“Roman.” Her gray eyes serious now, her hand on my forearm. “This has to be hard.”
“Maybe Roman doesn’t want you to be understanding.”That was Delilah, of course, who was ahead of me in the queue. “Like, atall.”
A woman going through on the other side of the table, whose hair was as short as Delilah’s, laughed and said, “Oh, man, do you sound like me and my sister.”
“The loving concern,” Delilah said. “It burns. Which one’s your sister? And by the way—which one are you? American, obviously, which is a big ‘huh’ from me. I guess that’ll make Summer and me less unacceptable, anyway. I’m Delilah. Basically nobody, except I’m Summer’s cousin, so I’m Roman’s plus-one’s plus-one. Awkward much?”
“Awkward heaps,” the woman said, “as Jax would say. I’m Karen, and this is Jax behind me. My husband. I still love how that sounds. Possibly not entirely feminist of me. What do you think?”
Jax, who had a startlingly wide blue scar down one side of his face and another beside his nose, and was wearing a prosthetic leg with shorts while holding a little boy by one hand and a plate in the other, said, “Nah. I’ll take being your husband. And I’ll definitely take you being my wife.”
“Ha,” Karen said. “He thinks it sounds lordly or something, but then, he’s kind of a throwback to a manlier time. It’s a family trait, even when the family isn’t, you know, blood. Probably why my heart called to his in the first place, since I’m sort of a Te Mana myself, at least by extension. Jax is Poppy’s brother. I saw that you met Poppy. AndI’mHemi’s sister-in-law, which makes me a sort-of cousin to you, Roman, aren’t you lucky, and doesn’t actually make me mokopuna at all, except it does, because Koro’s the best. He basically adopted Hope and me ages ago, back when Hemi was being evil. That’s not a family trait, fortunately, so don’t worry. That’s just Hemi.”
“Evil?” Delilah’s ears were practically waving, she was listening so hard. “I thought Daniel was the black sheep.”
“Oh, he is,” Karen said. “I’d say more, but you know—circumstances demand a marginal level of tact, at least until Jax and I are in the car and I can gossip and he can look dangerously stern and disapproving and secretly love my frankness. You’ll find out.”
“I’ve already found out,” Delilah said. “He talked smack about Summer’s body and, you know, her sexuality, the first time we met him. That’s Summer, by the way. My cousin. Legit gorgeous, so?—”
“And Roman didn’t shut him down?” Karen asked. “See, Hemi would havetotallyshut that down. That’s the good part of the hard, ruthless, occasionally evil thing.”
“Oh, he did,” Delilah said with delight. “He stood up and said, ‘Get her name out of your mouth’ in an extremely scary manner. Total domination fest. That’s not really what I go for, because I’d just have slapped him myself if violence weren’t wrong and possibly even though it is, but Summer’s more traditional.”
I considered saying something here, but Karen beat me to it. “I should hate that kind of thing, but—nope. Lovin’ it, sorry.” I noticed that Jax was smiling. He had the sort of smile you’d call “dangerous,” and I realized with a start who he was. Jax MacGregor, scion of one of New Zealand’s wealthiest families and former top model, and current Army bomb-disposal expert. Something flinty around the eyes that told you the ravaged good looks weren’t the whole story, and the scars that told you the rest.
Karen went on, “You’ll find out for yourself what Hemi’s like, because there are three empty seats beside Koro that I’m guessing are for you, and guess who’s sitting opposite? Not enough room for Jax and me, which is too bad, if there are going to be fireworks. I’ll have to get the scoop from Hope later, except she’s so annoyingly tactful that she either won’tsay at all, or she’ll be so understanding, she’ll take all the fun out of it.”
“You can get it from me,” Delilah said. “I’m not tactful. I’m also taking notes.”
“Excellent,” Karen said. “Get over there and start taking them. I can’t wait to hear.”
Summer
As we walked over to the table where the old man was ensconced, I told Roman, “Too bad Delilah isn’t your fake girlfriend after all. She’s much better at it than me. Look at all the icebreaking she’s done already.”
“And yet I’m still glad I’m with you,” he said. “Despite your annoying concern and understanding.”
I tried not to let that affect me, but it wasn’t easy. There was something watchful about Roman. Underneath all the decisiveness and toughness, he had a kind of patience, of reserve, that spoke to my heart. He wasn’t tough because he’d wanted to be. He was tough because he’d had to be, and right now, he was going to need all of that. Which he showed me by stepping over the picnic bench beside the old man at the head of the table, then turning and offering me his hand, ignoring Hemi’s dark eyes fixed on him from across the way.
I sat down, smoothing my dress beneath my thighs, so grateful that I’d been able to polish up a little for this. When you’re meeting a famous designer, it doesn’t exactly help your confidence to be sporting ragged cuticles and split ends, not to mention a much-washed T-shirt and skort from Topshop. Also, this had to be Hemi’s wife Hope beside him, looking petite, blonde, and angelically pretty in a pale-blue sleeveless dress that was so simple and so perfect, it must have cost theearth. She proved it by smiling at all of us and saying, “Hi. I’m Hope. American, obviously. I’m not sure if you’ve met Hemi.”
“We’ve met.” Hemi’s voice was almost a growl. His hair was short and extremely well cut, and his T-shirt and shorts looked like nothing so much as a disguise. Also, he wasn’t smiling. That is, until he transferred his gaze from Roman to Delilah and me, when he did smile. A little. And say, “Summer and Delilah.”
“That’s us,” Delilah said. “Andyou’reRoman’s brother and wishing you weren’t.”
Hope and I both jumped in at the same time, saying something like, “Oh, that’s not—” but Hemi didn’t glower, or whatever I’d expected. He actually laughed and said, “It’s Karen all over again, eh, Hope.”
