Page 85 of Catch a Kiwi
I was thinking,All right, I’ve circulated. I’ve given Roman time to meet people without worrying about me. Is it time to go yet?Then I got distracted, because the place was full of kids, and I liked kids. The bold ones who made you laugh, like Olivia, who reminded me so much of Delilah when she was young, full of confidence and expressiveness, like she had a lantern inside that you could never put out, and the shy ones, too. Hope and Hemi’s younger daughter, Maia, for one, who had skin like pale caramel and the prettiest dark curls and green eyes, and was curled up under a tree now by herself instead of playing cricket with the others, drawing in a sketchbook with colored pencils.
“I’m drawing dresses,” she told me when I sat down beside her and asked. “Like Dad. But I’m not very good yet. I want to design beautiful things with flowers, like the dress you have on, but I don’t know enough about how flowers look … um, specifically, to know how to draw them. Everything I do looks too simple, like daisies.”
“You could get a book,” I said. “An identification book of different flowers, with drawings and photos.”
“Do they have things like that?”
“They do. They have gardens, too. Botanic gardens with all kinds of different plants. You live in New York, don’t you? I’ll bet New York has gardens like that. You could take your own pictures to remind you. Sometimes, seeing something in person, you get a sort of …feelfor it, don’t you? The scent, and the texture, and just—everything. It seems like that would help.”
“Yes,”she said, sitting up straighter. “There’s Central Park across the street from where we live. It has flowers, but not all kinds of flowers. I need to know about little flowers, and big ones. Some flowers are fancy and complicated, and some are very simple, but still pretty. Flowers look completely different on a dress if they’re big or small. Like, a dress with a print of little flowers looks …” She hesitated.
“Dainty,” I said. “Ladylike.”
“Yes. I guess. And a dress with big flowers like yours looks more … sort of … wilder.”
“Mm,” I said. “Who do you know who could take you to see flowers, do you think?”
She considered that, her face grave. “My dad, maybe. He knows about looking at things in nature and thinking about clothes, and how to make them out of the right fabric and in the right colors. But he’s very busy.”
“Do you think he’d help you,” I said, “if you asked him for it like a … a treat?”
“For my birthday next month, maybe,” she said. “Do you think that would be OK? For a birthday present? It’s kind of a selfish present, though, because my dad works a lot, except Sundays, and my sister and brothers won’t want to go and see a garden. Aroha mostly cares about gymnastics and being cool, and Tama mostly cares about baseball, and Tane’s toolittle. And my mom might feel bad if I wanted to do something just with my dad.”
“A birthday is a special day, though,” I said. “I didn’t have a dad, but my mom always tried to make my birthday special. I think your mom would understand. You could ask your dad, anyway.” I wouldn’t want to ask him much, but then, I wasn’t his kid. It seemed like he might have a softer side. He sure seemed attuned to Hope.
“Now, you mean?” Maia asked.
I hesitated, then said, “Why not?” and hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed.
“Will you come with me to ask?”
“Uh …” I wasn’t sure how you said,I kind of yelled at your dad and impugned his motives without any evidence at all. Pretty much the rudest thing I’ve ever said to anyone, other than Roman.I wasn’t exactly finding my lane on the “honest but kind” track so far, but maybe it just took more practice.
“Please? It would really help.” She looked up at me with those big, dark-lashed green eyes, and how could I say no?
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll go with you.”
She smiled, showing a couple of dimples, then put her colored pencils back into the box, picked up the box and drawing pad, then stood up, carefully smoothed her party dress, and looked up at me, and my heart did a little flip. And then it ached.
Never mind that,I told myself.This isn’t about you.Across the grass, looking around, asking, and finding that Koro was inside the house and Hemi might be with him. Through the glass sliders and the dim kitchen, where four or five people were doing the washing-up, and on into the shabby lounge. Delilah had wondered why Hemi hadn’t bought something better for his grandfather, but I thought I knew, because this place was so clearly home.
The old man was in an ancient recliner, its fabric faded,his feet up and his eyes closed, and Hemi was settling a blanket over him. I took a step back, not wanting to interrupt a private moment, but Maia didn’t. She waited, then, when Hemi stepped away, she walked to him, took his hand, and said, “Daddy, can I talk to you? It’s important.” Looking up at him imploringly, but whispering, trying not to wake her great-grandfather.
Hemi’s face, turning to her. The pain I’d seen in him when he’d been looking down at Koro, like he knew the loss was coming and that however much money and power he had, he was helpless to stop it. And then that pain turning to something softer. He said, “Course you can,” speaking low himself. “Let’s go outside.”
“No.” That was Koro, opening his eyes a fraction. “Talk here. I like falling asleep with my mokopuna around.”
“Right.” Hemi walked with Maia to the couch, and I did take that step back. Maia saw me doing it, though, and said, “Can you stay and help me explain?”
Hemi looked at me, his expression unreadable, and I thought,I don’t have to be scared of you, no matter how many billions you have. That’s nothing to do with me. I’ll make my decision based on whether it feels right.That was why I said, “Sure, if you like.”
“Please,” Hemi said. “Sit down.” So I did, at the very end of the couch.
Maia said, “It’s about my birthday. Summer said I could ask you, even though it’s a little selfish. She said it’s OK to ask.”
Some more inscrutable stare from Hemi, and when I didn’t say anything, he said, “It’s always OK to ask. I’m your dad. What is it? A pony?” A joke, I guessed, because Maia giggled and shook her head. “A private ice rink?” Hemi asked. “Your own farm of all baby animals?”
“Dad,” Maia said, “you’re being silly. I’mnine.I know having all baby animals isn’t realistic! This is serious.”
