by Toby Neal
“At least what came out of that is that I have my case moving forward. I hired a PI to help me get the kids back, and the Vierras are on board with sharing custody.”
“So then you went back to the hospital,” Dr. Suzuki prompted.
“Yeah. And don’t pretend you don’t know what happened next.” He felt a flash of anger, and he directed it at Dr. Suzuki. “You must have seen Zoe at her regular time.”
Dr. Suzuki let a long beat go by. Her face was perfectly composed as she said, “Yes. I feel my ability to maintain boundaries and confidentiality has been compromised for both of you. So one of the reasons I really wanted you to come in, in addition to hoping you were wanting to process your grief, is to discuss referring you to another therapist.”
Adam frowned. “Why aren’t you referring Zoe to another therapist?” Another pause. She was letting him think about how mean-spirited his words sounded. He set his jaw. “I don’t want to go to someone else, start all over again.”
“If your therapy is compromised by the thought that Zoe was here and that certain basic things were shared with me like your mother’s death—then perhaps I need to refer both of you.”
“What I can’t stand is thinking of her,” Adam said. Tears, the ones he’d been suppressing all along, started in his eyes, and he stuffed his fists against them again. “I can’t think of her at all or I feel sick.”
“Adam.” Dr. Suzuki leaned forward and gave him the full intensity of her gaze. “I’m going to refer you to someone else. But we have this session, we have now, and I’m going to tell you this—it’s no one’s fault your mother died while you were with Zoe.”
“Goddammit!” Adam shot to his feet. “I was fucking a woman when my family needed me! I failed my mom when it really counted! I was indulging myself!”
He wanted to throw the coffee table over, wreck the office. Dr. Suzuki must have seen it in his face because she shot to her feet and raised her voice, her intensity matching his. “Stand down, Adam! This is your coach telling you to get a grip on that anger!”
He found himself face-to-face with her, matching her breathing. Seconds later the rage passed, and he shook his head as if waking from a spell, ran a hand through his hair, sat back down.
“You can’t refer me. I need you too much.”
“I have to refer or discharge one or both of you. Now that there’s been this thing between you…”
“I trust you.” He was relieved when she sat back down. “I won’t find another therapist who can deal with my anger like you can.”
“You’ve never had another one, so you don’t know that. They can handle it just fine. That’s the job. That said, I’d rather we find if there’s a way we can keep working together. Maybe Zoe will take the referral instead.”
“No. She’s been through enough.” He did a few relaxation breaths, his eyes closed. “I didn’t say goodbye. She’s going to be hurting because I haven’t called her.”
“I can’t comment on that.”
“Yes, this is a weird situation. But I can accept that she was here. That you can’t comment on her. I’ll do whatever, but I don’t want to hurt her more by taking away someone who’s been a support to her.”
Another long pause. Adam kept his eyes shut, his hands over his face. It was so important to contain his overwhelming feelings—the grief, the regret, the loss, and the anger.
“So what I can do is that, for the purposes of this meeting, we can discuss the situation as it pertains to you and how to handle the relationship with Zoe.”
“Okay.”
“Here’s my observation as a clinician: You were away from your mom’s bedside when she died. You were having sex with someone when she died, and you blame yourself and that person for what happened. It could have been any woman, and it would have been the same.”
A long moment went by as Adam considered, his fists still against his face.
“It doesn’t sound logical.”
“It isn’t logical. Now think of this, and maybe it’s too soon, but let’s try anyway. Your mother is in the room with us. She’s sitting right there in that chair.” Adam gazed over at the empty fan chair. “What would she say about this situation if she were here?”
Adam felt his throat close. He could almost see Kalia Rodrigues sitting there, in her flowered muumuu, her smile bright as it always had been. Her work-worn hands were folded in her lap, her brown eyes compassionate. He shook his head, unable to speak.
“Would she blame you? Would she blame the young woman you were with?”
“No.” Adam cleared his throat. “She wanted me to have someone. I know it was one of her worries, that my marriage had fallen apart, that my kids had an alcoholic mother and I was going to try to raise them alone.”
“Let me hear her speak. What would she say to you?”
He stared at the chair and felt something happen, unlocking his throat to give form to words.
“Son, I’m glad you found someone you could love.” The light timbre sounded just like Kalia Rodrigues. “Don’t blame yourself. You were always a good son to me and made me proud. Remember me by having a love like Earl and I had. I want you to be happy.”
Staring at the empty peacock chair, he felt an inner wind pass over him, raising the hairs on his arms. He glanced back at Dr. Suzuki. Her face was intent on his.
“She was here,” Adam whispered. “She spoke to me. Through me.”
“I’m not going to argue with that,” Dr. Suzuki said.
“Goodbye, Mama,” Adam said to the empty chair, seeing and feeling its emptiness this time. He let himself cry then, with all the grief he’d held back behind his fists.
After the session, he drove down the hill and found himself back at the ocean. It took him into its salty arms and held all his sorrow, rage, and loss.
Chapter 25
Zoe’s hair blew back from her face as the speedboat bounced across the choppy waves headed for the little island off the coast of Maui, privately owned Lanai. The flying sensation was exhilarating, and Zoe turned her head to smile at Brad. “This is so fun!” she exclaimed, the words whipped away almost before they could form.
She was seated beside him in a captain’s chair in a little cockpit area. Shamu stood upright between them, her paws on the dash, and Sylvester, less enthusiastic, stared out off the stern of the boat back toward Lahaina.
“Too bad whale season’s over. I always see a lot of them on the way to Lanai,” Brad shouted back. “I think you’re going to love this.”
It didn’t take long for them to motor into Manele Bay, a perfect half-moon of clear, sparkling water and golden beach surrounded by the rocky, rugged green arms of the little island. The slopes of the island, which had appeared purple from a distance, revealed a tapestry of taupe, olive, and shadow that made up an arid and rocky geography.
Brad throttled back the sleek boat with its powerful thrusting nose, which hid a cozy sleeping cabin. Even at putt-putt velocity, the engine of the Maui Dream sounded like a tiger growling, Zoe thought as Brad steered the speedboat to a spot not far from shore and directed her to drop the automatic anchor with a button.
Zoe twisted her wind-whipped hair back into a braid and put the large-brimmed hat she’d brought along back on—the wind had almost torn it off within minutes of their departure from Lahaina Harbor.
“Want to do some snorkeling? Lots of fish here.” Brad wasn’t wearing anything but his swim trunks, muscles, and a tan, and she liked the way the fan of wrinkles at the corners of his turquoise eyes lit up as they took in her blue bikini worn under a colorful pareu.
“Definitely.”
They left the dogs with their water bowl in the cabin so Shamu wouldn’t follow them into the ocean and got into snorkel gear.
“I’ve never gone snorkeling off a boat before,” Zoe said, sliding her feet into rubber flippers. “Seems kind of deep.”
“You’ll see a lot of variety in the ocean life from farther out. It’s a different kind of experi
ence, but I think you’ll like it.”
Zoe stifled a twinge of apprehension as she turned and gazed at the water. The reef was at least twenty feet deep, but the water was so clear she could see coral heads and the colorful moving shadows of reef fish.
Brad dove in, a tight splash beside the boat, and bobbed back up, donning his mask. “C’mon in. The water’s fine!”
Zoe tossed the hat down on the deck, stripped off her pareu, and jumped in, holding her mask and snorkel.
The water was cool enough to make her gasp as it hit her sun-heated skin, and she blew salty drops off her lips with a laugh. “What an adventure, Brad,” she exclaimed.
Even through his mask, she saw the dancing light of mischief and sensuality in his eyes. “The day’s not over yet,” he said, and put the snorkel in his mouth. She followed suit, turning to follow him and entering a glowing underwater world.
It was surprisingly noisy underwater. She could hear the clicking and piping of reef creatures and, far away, the rumble of some boat motor. Her eyes followed Brad’s tight backside as he led the way to a coral garden naturally constructed of giant brain and branch corals decorated by the darting flares of angelfish, rainbow-hued parrotfish, and schools of silver chub. Several green turtles bobbed leisurely with them, rising to the surface for unhurried breaths, then submerging to feed on the seaweed that provided cover for tiny darting tangs and the boldly colored state fish Brad pointed to that Zoe recognized as humuhumunukunukuapua`a.
Brad spotted something and dove all the way to the bottom to bring back a large spotted cowrie shell, dappled as a jungle animal and still alive. They took their snorkels out on the water’s surface as he showed her the shell.
Zoe held the cowrie a moment, weighty with life. “So beautiful. Take it back, please. It’s probably terrified.”
“Your wish is my command.” Brad winked, and she enjoyed the sight of his powerful body swimming down to put the shell back under the marine shelf where he’d found it.
Back on the boat, they rinsed off using a sun-warmed plastic bag of water with a nozzle attached, like a shower.
“You think of everything,” Zoe said, wrapping herself in a bright, fluffy towel from the cabin.
“I pride myself on being thorough and prepared,” Brad said, carrying up a cooler from below. “Got a picnic here.”
Sipping chilled champagne, Zoe couldn’t help contrasting this elaborate date with two weeks previous, when she’d just opened her door to a man wearing nothing but his need and a smell so delicious she’d never stopped craving more of it.
Brad was entirely different. If he needed her, it was well hidden behind layers of sophistication. But there was no doubt he wanted her—she saw that in every veiled glance and choreographed movement of the courtship dance he’d initiated. Glancing at the open door into the cabin and glimpsing the crisp navy blue bed in the bow, she guessed what Brad had in mind for dessert.
She’d given in to his repeated invitations about a week after her therapy appointment, and they’d done something together every day since. Brad had been a perfect gentleman—but behind the manners, she knew he was a man with a strong will, determined to have what he wanted.
Zoe was equally determined to move on from Adam. She’d had no further communication from him, and in the end, Dr. Suzuki had kept her on as a client after she’d begged and given repeated assurances that the subject of Adam was off-limits.
“I just picked up some deli food,” Brad said, unpacking wrapped crusty bread sandwiches. “Got several kinds because I didn’t know what you’d like.”
“They look delicious. Excuse me a minute.” Zoe needed a moment alone. She set her glass down and headed below to the closet-like head. Inside, she used the facilities, then splashed water on her hands and face from the tiny sink, gazing at her flushed face in the polished steel mirror.
Was she ready to move to the next level with Brad? There was no way to find out but to try and see where it went. Her phone in the little straw purse she’d brought down dinged with a voice mail. Frowning, she took it out—and felt a flutter in her stomach at the sight of Adam’s photo in the little window.
Why, oh why, did he have to call now?
Unable to resist, she listened to Adam’s message. His voice was low and rough with emotion. “Zoe. I’m so sorry for walking away from you like that. I’m working on my shit. I promise you that. The grief is getting better. I hope we can start over, go on a date like normal people, and I can make it up to you. I think we have something special, and I want to see where it goes. I’ll keep calling until I hear back from you.”
Her hand covered her mouth as she listened to it again.
What to do? Brad was above deck, popping champagne and driving a speedboat with no apparent baggage, putting effort into building a relationship with her. Contrast that with Adam—his volatility, his many responsibilities, the “issues” that had them seeing the same therapist.
She knew who had Michelle’s vote, and it wasn’t Adam.
A soft knock on the door. “Zoe? Are you all right? Is the movement getting to you?”
An excuse! Zoe just wasn’t ready to end up in the front cabin of the boat yet. She dropped the phone back in her bag, opened the door.
“I’m so sorry, Brad. I’m just not feeling well. The waves…” She tried to seem pathetic and must have succeeded because he circled an arm around her, gave her a little push to the stairs.
“Let’s get you up in the fresh air. I’ll take you back to Lahaina, and we can eat on shore.”
“I really loved being able to see all this,” Zoe said sincerely. Brad rolled his eyes as he hauled up the anchor.
“I’m glad you enjoyed the day until now, but having my date get seasick was not how I was hoping things would go. Keep your eyes on the horizon. Ruling out boat outings for you.”
Zoe really had begun to feel seasick by the time they got underway, and she wondered if it was because of the power of suggestion or her own inner conflict. Either way, she was relieved to be surging across the waves again, the breeze smacking her cheeks and her eyes on the horizon.
The great golden shape of Maui in the distance was clothed in cloud and draped in the scarf of a rainbow and, not for the first time, Zoe thanked God she’d had the courage to follow her dreams to move to Hawaii.
Back in Lahaina, they ate their sandwiches while sitting on a bench under the vast spreading branches of the landmark banyan tree in the center of town and afterward strolled down touristy Front Street for an ice cream. Throughout, all Zoe could think of was getting alone with her phone to decide how to respond to Adam’s message. Walking her to her car, Brad pulled her close, tipped her chin up, and gazed into her eyes.
“You’ve been a million miles away.”
“Just a little queasy still. Thinking of the deadline I’m blowing off.” Zoe told her conscience that the last part was true, at least. To make up for it, she leaned in to kiss him and gave it some effort, which distracted them both.
She could tell he appreciated that, and eventually let her go, his eyes gone a little hazy. “See you soon.” He touched her nose, a gesture that reminded her Adam had done it first.
“Definitely.” She beeped her car unlocked, and he opened the door for her, leaning on it to let the heat out while she turned the Beetle on. “I love the Maui Dream. I’m just not sure it loves me.”
“At least the seasick didn’t come on until later. I’ll call you.” Brad shut the door. She waved and pulled out into traffic. She drove out of Lahaina and eventually pulled into the parking lot of a beach park outside of town. She left the vehicle on for the radio and air-conditioning, pointing it so she could stare out at the little rippling late-afternoon waves—and finally she took out her phone.
The memory of Adam holding her by the tie of her robe, never letting go for an instant since she’d joined him in the shower, brought tears prickling up to her eyes again. She glanced down at the phone. Should she call him? She listened to the m
essage again.
Maybe not. Maybe she wanted to hear a few more of these things he should have said.
She put the car in gear and drove home, feeling an anticipation she hadn’t had since she and Adam had been e-mailing.
Chapter 26
Adam pushed his sweaty hair off his brow. He and his sisters were cleaning out his mother’s things from his house. They’d picked a day and made each other accountable to do it together. He’d elected to deal with the closet, as the mere sight of their mother’s clothes had sent both of his sisters into a fit of crying.
He heard Charl in the kitchen, sorting through a lot of the old crockery and extra kitchen items Kalia Rodrigues had never found the time to part with. Mele was in the laundry room sorting all the sheets and bedding, her new baby tied across her breast in a sling and tears watering his tender little head.
He scooped an armload of muumuus off the rack, leaving them on the hangers. Even the energy to take them off felt like too much for him right now, and he couldn’t imagine what he’d need all those wire hangers from the 1960s for.
Kalia’s will had been simple: After a list of items she was giving away specifically, the remaining assets of hers and Earl’s life were to be divided equally among the three children. After discussion, Adam had agreed to buy his sisters out of their share of the family home with monthly payments since Charl and Mele already owned homes they were happy in.
Adam had already taken over Rodrigues Building Company some years ago in a buyout with a business loan, so that was taken care of—but in the meantime, he was loaded with debt and obligations.
As usual.
Even in the midst of this difficult chore, Adam’s thoughts circled back to the message he’d left on Zoe’s phone. He slid his phone out of his pocket and checked it again—nothing. She hadn’t called him back.
He steeled himself. He was just going to have to try a little harder to win her back. If her sense of loss was anything like his, he’d wounded her deeply and it was going to take more than one message to pull her back to him. He remembered holding the end of that gold silk tie, giving it a tug and the robe falling open to reveal her beautiful body—but more than that, he loved how she’d come right back and settled on his lap, fitting perfectly. The vulnerability on her face still glowed in his memory as she’d asked him, “Is this really happening?”
