Page 82 of Catch a Kiwi
“My sister,” Hope said.
“I know,” Delilah said. “We met her and got as much of the scoop as she could give us in about two minutes. Hemi used to be evil but now he’s just ruthless and tough and extremely rich and powerful, Daniel is nobody anybody could want as their dad, and you’re tactful and kind like Summer, so you probably won’t ask, but here you go. My mom went to prison for cooking meth, and who knows where my dad is. Who knowswhomy dad is. Or Summer’s. We’re not exactly pedigreed poodles. Since ancestry matters to Maori and all, you should know—we don’t have any.”
Roman didn’t say anything. He was just looking at Hemi. Hemi shifted his gaze back to him, and, yes, that was pretty much a staredown. Until Hemi spoke again, still to me. “You’re American, eh. Blonde as well.” He glanced at his wife, and I realized what he meant. That Hope and I looked and probably seemed oddly similar, as if half-brothers were like identical twins raised apart, with the same tastes. Which they weren’t.
“I’m blonde,” I said, “but I’m not American anymore, or not entirely. I’ve lived in the UK for eight years. I’m a citizen, in fact.”
“And in New Zealand why?” Hemi asked. “With this bloke why?”
“Hemi.” Hope said it softly, but he glanced at her, his face softened a fraction, and he said, “You don’t know what people can be. And neither does Koro.”
“I’ll bet she does.” That was, somehow, me, because I was getting mad again. “And I’ll bet Kororeallydoes. I’m sorry, do I call you something else?” I leaned around Roman to ask him. “I don’t know the proper … address. Mr. Te Mana.”
He smiled, missing teeth and all. “Nah. Koro’s good. That’s who I am now. Reckon we all become who we are at the end.”
“Thank you,” I said, then turned back to Hemi. “You think I’m a gold-digger. Join the club. Was your wife a gold-digger when you met her, then? Because you’ve had big money for ages, and, sorry, but she looks quite a bit younger than you. Or was she maybe not into all that money and power? Did she tell you instead that she didn’t need some guy running her life and running her over, and you’d better back off if you expected to be with her?” I was sure Delilah was sitting there with her mouth open, but I was going on anyway.
Hemi’s face darkened. “Anybody can do a web search.”
“Anybody can,” I said, “but I didn’t. I looked at you, I looked at her, I heard what Karen said, and I thought about how I felt when I met Roman. Which was exactly like that. It’s great to be a decisive, authoritative person, I’m sure, but it doesn’t mean other people have to submit to your authority.”
“It’s true,” Roman said. “Unfortunately.” Any composure he’d lost, he’d regained. “Didn’t want to take my help. Not with stitches in four places. Not with her campervan in pieces on my hillside, when that was her only home and hercousin’s, too, and she had nowhere to go. And definitely not when I pushed it too hard and suggested she could live with me and avoid having to pay rent. That’s when she ran.”
“Oh, my goodness.” That was Hope, with her hand at her throat. “It’s like … déjà vu. Because that was Hemi,” she told me. “Only worse. He hired me, and can you believe it? I actually took the job. That’s how naïve I was. I’ll bet you didn’t.”
“No,” Roman said. “Turned me down just this morning on that one.”
“I turned him down,” I was somehow saying, “because I’mnotnaïve. Not anymore. I’m Felipe Moyano’s ex-wife.”
“The footballer.” Hemi’s eyes had sharpened, giving him a definite resemblance to a bird of prey. “Went to prison for tax evasion.”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s the story, and that’s me. Acquitted, but bankrupt and disgraced all the same. Your basic pariah.”
“I thought we were avoiding telling this story,” Delilah said.
“Not anymore,” I said. “I’m tired of hiding. I wasn’t a gold-digger back then, I’m sure not one now, and I’m not going to listen to a single person implying that anymore. Not. A. Single. Person.” I was clutching my fork too tightly, so I relaxed my hold with an effort and tried to breathe. Tried to smile. It didn’t work.
“He’s not going to do that,” Roman said. “I’m not going to let him.”
Another staredown, until I said, “I’ve set Hemi straight, Roman. You don’t need to keep defending my honor. Time for me to defend yours.” I told Hemi, “He didn’t want to come today. He doesn’t want anything from anybody, especially not from your father. His father. Which is good, because I’ll bet he wouldn’t get it.”
“You’re right about that,” Hemi said.
“Giving not his love language?” Delilah piped up. “That one took about five seconds to figure out. And guess what? It’s not Roman’s mom’s, either. Boy, is she a taker.”
“Delilah,” I said, feeling Roman stiffen beside me.
“No worries,” Hemi said. “My mum’s the same.” Roman didn’t answer, just looked at him, and Hemi sighed and said, “Reckon we’re too much alike to make this easy. Proud. Stubborn. Holding our cards close to the vest.”
“Arrogant?” Delilah asked sweetly, and Hemi smiled a little and said, “Maybe.”
Hope said, “Anybody would be cautious if he had that many people counting on him. When he’s the final word, that word had better be right. Fortunately, Hemi’s almost always right, and I’m guessing you are too, Roman.”
“Except when I’m wrong,” Hemi said, and beside me, some of the tension went out of Roman’s shoulder and leg. “So, cuz.” Hemi held out a big hand. “We’ll take it from here.”
Roman looked back at him, his face set, put out his own hand, and they shook.
“It’s not like you two live remotely close to each other,” Delilah said. “That should make it easier.”
