No Place Too Far

by Kay Bratt

  It wasn’t fair. Not to them. And not to her.

  He watched her, his eyes sad as he waited for her to answer. He was the last person she would ever want to hurt. But as a native Hawaiian, he knew that ohana was everything.

  “Liam, I get what you are trying to make me see here, but what about my grandmother? She could go to jail, and that would surely speed up her death. She’d die of humiliation. And my family’s business and reputation? What if—”

  He held a hand up. “Quinn, mistakes can be forgiven and reputations repaired. I’m not telling you what to do. Just think about it.”

  “You could come with me.” The words slipped out, and Quinn wanted to pull them back in. She didn’t want to sound needy. Or ask him to make such a sacrifice.

  “Then both of us would have to leave our family. My mother depends on me. Even more so than my brothers. You are very important to me, and I’m sorry, but I can’t leave Maui. My heart is tethered to the ’aina of this island. My responsibility to my family is still heavy.”

  Quinn had a vision of herself alone on a property far away, too far for anyone she loved to visit. Too complicated if she didn’t want her story to harm them. Could she start over again? Should she have to?

  Liam stared at her, his eyes beseeching her to think deeply about her choices. Reminding her that he was the first person to care for her completely, without expectations, despite her many flaws.

  Her thoughts spun through her head like a tilt-a-whirl.

  It couldn’t be decided right here. Not right now. “Are you ready to go? I need to get back to the hotel.”

  There was a lot to think about, and all she wanted to do was get through the business day and hide in her room for the rest of the evening. Bedtime would mean plenty of hours for her to be wide awake, and she hoped to figure everything out so she could get the ball rolling by morning.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Maggie pulled her car into the alley behind the Shakti Yoga studio, put it in park, and stepped out. Dr. Starr had insisted that she take the day off. Do some yoga, he’d said, as though that would solve all her problems. If it wasn’t enough that her brand-new boss had seen her at one of her weakest moments, now he was ordering her to stay away from the clinic. It was all so humiliating that the prospect of not facing him over the examination table at work was what made her accept his offer of the impromptu afternoon off.

  Then she’d realized her gas gauge was hovering on the full mark. He must have taken it upon himself to fill it, and she’d owe him for that too. Another chink in her armor of pride.

  She’d considered keeping Charlie with her for the day, but one look at her reflection in the mirror changed her mind. It wasn’t often she put herself first, but she needed some time alone. He would be happier at the inn too.

  By the time she’d dropped Charlie off at the inn and was told that Quinn was out somewhere with Liam, yoga followed by a walk on the beach sounded inviting.

  She swung by her apartment, leaving Woodrow for a celebratory nap that he’d well earned. She changed, grabbed a bottle of water, and was back on the road in less than five minutes.

  She barely remembered the drive from the apartment to the studio. Her mind was on Quinn. Where had she and Liam gone that was more important than talking to her about the photo uploaded online? And Maggie needed to tell her about the latest catastrophe with her bank account. And the ensuing panic attack.

  But obviously, it could all wait.

  She entered through the door to the small front room that smelled of sweet, flowery incense.

  Quietly, she unfurled her mat and set her blanket and strap to the side, then crossed her feet and lowered herself gracefully until she was in lotus pose. She closed her eyes. A few minutes of meditation before class always settled the chaos in her mind.

  Only here in her yoga class could she be completely anonymous.

  She only had to do one thing.

  Just be.

  She kept her eyes shut while others filtered in, shuffling around barefoot as they set up their places.

  Long breath through the nose, out through the mouth.

  Suddenly she felt a new presence moving close to her. A heavy footstep, then a drop as someone squeezed a mat between her and the wall, where there was obviously not sufficient room for it. She felt a rush of irritation that her space was being trodden upon. Aside from work, which didn’t count, this was the only time she had strictly for herself, and it was precious to her.

  She cracked one eye open and was shocked at who she found there.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed at Dr. Starr.

  He raised his eyebrows at her. “Yoga?”

  “You don’t do yoga. You said it was for New Age millennials.”

  Their exchange caught the instructor’s attention, and she gave them an admonishing look.

  Dr. Starr turned his face away and fought with his legs, bending them as he tried to work himself into a cross-legged pose. He wore shorts, and he was hairier than Maggie had imagined. His calves were muscular, too, as though he did some sort of physical recreation in his spare time.

  But judging by his struggles, it definitely wasn’t yoga.

  He held out his hands, touching his pointing fingers to his thumbs.

  “I’m trying something new,” he whispered. “Listen to this. Ommm.”

  “Don’t you have patients to be seeing to?” she whispered back.

  He shook his head. “I have a two-hour gap.”

  Maggie had to fight the urge to get up and leave. His uninvited presence just put a dent in the gratitude she felt for him caring for Charlie during her crisis.

  Before she could tell him what she thought, Shaila, the instructor, stood at the front of the room. She closed her eyes and lowered her head, doing what she’d explained to them before as taking their collective pulse so she’d know how to start the class.

  Maggie really enjoyed the classes taught by Shaila. She was a truly talented (and serene) yogi from India and focused on healing mind, body, and spirit in many series of restorative poses. And she did everything quietly, with only gentle and subtle corrections.

  Shaila looked up and smiled. “I see everyone is seated comfortably, and there are a few new faces. We like to begin each class by silently declaring a positive, simple intention. Close your eyes for a moment and think about yours. It could be your intention to breathe with awareness or to leave class with your spirit recovered. Or you can even be ready to offer up your practice to a higher god. It’s up to you and totally personal. While you set your intention, keep your eyes closed and breathe deeply.”

  To get through this class without strangling Dr. Starr is my intention, Maggie thought. So much for an hour of relaxation and restoration. She could barely wait to get out of there so she could really give him a piece of her mind. He might be her boss, but damned if he was going to insert himself into her personal life.

  Dr. Starr sighed long and loud, and though she refused to look at him again, she could only imagine how hilarious he looked sitting there on the yoga mat, his lanky frame hanging over the narrow strip of padding as he tried to figure out what his intention was. What was his intention here, come to think of it?

  “We can now move into the sun salutation,” the instructor said. “Remember, Buddha says that the mind is a restless monkey. We must work to tame that restlessness.”

  Speaking of monkeys, Maggie rose, and through her peripheral view, she could see Dr. Starr do the same.

  “Arms spread wide, backs arched, then support your spine with your hands while you bend back.” The instructor began to walk around, adjusting each student when needed. “Now fold into uttanasana.”

  As soon as Maggie folded forward and clasped her ankles, she chanced a peek at Dr. Starr.

  He was bending as much as he could, fumbling for his own unreachable ankles. He was teetering, close to falling on that thick skull of his.

  She bit her lip to keep from grinning at his ineptit
ude as she stretched farther, feeling the delicious burn behind her knees.

  “Now go into downward-facing dog.”

  Maggie gracefully sent her legs back, settling into downward dog.

  “I should know all the dog poses,” Dr. Starr whispered. “’Cause I’m a vet. Get it?”

  Okay, so chilling out today isn’t going to happen.

  Beside her, Dr. Starr struggled to get positioned correctly, and the instructor came to him.

  “First this leg. Gently, now. Guide it back.”

  Maggie heard some ungentle movement.

  “Now the other leg,” the instructor said. “Feel your core energy firing up.”

  When Maggie peeked, she saw the worst-looking downward dog she’d ever seen in her life. She closed her eyes again, trying to shut out his heavy breathing. She focused on the light sounds of nature coming from the speaker high on the wall.

  The instructor led them through the next series of poses, and she had to give it to Dr. Starr—he gave each one a valiant attempt.

  Maggie kept up her silent litany, trying to concentrate on anything but him. Stretch. Breathe. Move. Stretch. Breathe. Move.

  The instructor definitely earned her pay for the night. After a few minutes, she simply stayed beside Dr. Starr, adjusting his body or adding blocks and blankets to help him achieve at least a semblance of what everyone else in the class was easily doing.

  At last, they were brought back to the original cross-legged pose to rest. This was usually her favorite part of the session, when each part of her body tingled from the energy expended, knots and tightness of the days before finally worked out, her mental state calm and restored.

  Today that wasn’t going to happen. Thanks to the good doctor.

  “We want to be sitting in asana—and that means to be seated in a firm but relaxed position,” Shaila said.

  Usually after a few minutes of peaceful reflection, the class ended the session with one long om together, and with it, Maggie always felt a sense of gladness. Today, when they reached that point and then the instructor dismissed them from the mats with her quiet namaste, Maggie only felt relief.

  Relief that it was over.

  She stood, grabbing her mat, blanket, and strap, then quickly took them to the closet. She wanted to get out of there before Dr. Starr had a chance to initiate a conversation. He demanded that she take a day off, fine. She would show him what that really meant.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maggie saw Quinn was at the front desk with Charlie when she finally made it back to the hotel. He sat in a rolling chair, pushed up to the low side of the counter, his focus on a stack of crackers and cheese. Rosa was nowhere in sight.

  “I’m so sorry, Quinn,” Maggie said, rushing across the lobby. “After yoga I took a walk on the beach and laid down on my towel. Next thing I know, I woke up to sand kicked in my face and freaked out when I saw I’d been sleeping for over an hour. I rushed here—”

  Quinn held her hand up. “Stop. It’s fine. Sounds like you’ve had quite a day. Your body was telling you to recharge. Charlie filled me in on some of this morning’s events.”

  Maggie hadn’t counted on Charlie giving away all the juicy details. She wondered how he’d described her incident.

  “Don’t worry,” Quinn said. “I only picked up the highlights because he was most concerned with talking about the fire truck.”

  “Did he tell you who else was there?”

  “No, who?”

  “You’re not going to believe this. And he showed up to my yoga class—”

  “Mom, look. It’s a tower,” Charlie said.

  Maggie let out a sigh of impatience before he could catch it in her voice. She would really love to have a few minutes alone with Quinn, but Charlie missed and needed her too.

  “That looks good, Charlie. I can tell exactly what it is.” A stack of cheese and crackers, with a splash of imagination. But that’s not what he wanted to hear.

  “Me too,” said Quinn. “What’s the name of your tower? Is it the Empire State Building?”

  Charlie looked around her.

  “Where’s Woodrow?”

  “He’s at home. He needed a break today. But Auntie Quinn was talking to you,” Maggie said.

  Her son shrugged and went back to his crackers. It was one of those embarrassing parent moments when you can’t believe how stinking rude your kid can be. Unknowingly too.

  Quinn shrugged. “Oops. I guess I lost him.”

  “Probably good we diverted his train of thought before he started asking you one question after another about what the Empire State Building is,” Maggie said.

  Quinn laughed.

  Maggie was glad to finally see a smile on her friend’s face. She’d have to reward Charlie for that later. And though he had his moments when he made her want to have invisibility as a superpower, she was proud of him too. He was a smart and imaginative child, and she wasn’t just saying that because she was his mom.

  “Want to have a chat?” Maggie said, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on. And I have to tell you why my new friend, Juniper, is on my shit list.”

  It was far too coincidental that Dr. Starr had just happened to show up at the same yoga studio that Juniper had recommended to her. Maggie smelled a tiny blue-haired rat.

  “Okay, but the evening clerk is running late too,” Quinn said. “Why don’t you take Charlie out by the pool and I’ll join you in just a few minutes. Jonah is supposed to call me back to talk about the frogs keeping some of my guests up all night. Not sure what to do about that. And Rosa will be back any minute. She’s gone to get Charlie’s clothes out of the dryer. He decided he didn’t need swim shorts to jump in the pool today.”

  Maggie noticed now that her son was wearing his swim trunks and sun shirt instead of what she’d sent him in. “Charlie, what in the world? And where are your floaties?”

  Quinn waved a hand. “No worries. He had supervision every second, and he’s promised to never do that again. Speaking of Rosa, she can entertain him for a little while longer while we have a conversation. I’ll have the chef make her up some dinner to take home for the family.”

  Maggie nodded. She had a lot to tell her. Quinn might know something happened, but probably not all the details. Like how now she didn’t have five cents to her name because a lunatic had gotten into her account.

  “Oh, there’s Josh now,” Quinn said. “He can take over up here.”

  The young man that Quinn nodded at moved slightly to the left, and Maggie saw an elderly woman behind him, then heard Quinn let out a long, frustrated breath.

  “Just what I need,” she said.

  “Were you expecting your grandmother?” Maggie asked. She’d only met the woman once, actually at the same time that Quinn had met her, but no one could forget someone like that. All regal and fragile looking at the same time. Her hair was in a different style, pulled back in a classy ponytail instead of the sleek and tight chignon she’d worn before. She appeared to be dressed for tennis, though Maggie had never seen that style of long tennis shorts. Especially not with long white socks. The knobby knees that barely peeked out were a bit scary, so she could see why the woman wanted to cover most of her legs.

  Helen approached, her stride strong and without hesitation, her expression solemn. She ignored Maggie, dropped her purse on the counter, and leaned in, fairly close to Quinn’s face.

  “We need to talk.”

  Maggie could see the woman had that look that she wasn’t taking no for an answer. From everything she knew about Helen, she could be a stubborn force of nature.

  “You go, Quinn,” Maggie said. “We can talk later. Do me a favor: when you see Rosa, tell her to just keep Charlie’s clothes here for an extra set. In case he pulls that stunt again.”

  “Okay. Bye, Charlie.” Quinn shot Maggie a look that begged for rescue, and Maggie grimaced, trying to convey sympathy.

  As Maggie led Charlie toward the door, she he
ard Quinn give in.

  “We can talk in my room, Helen.”

  The old woman said something that Maggie couldn’t catch.

  “Come on, Charlie. Woodrow’s probably wondering where we are.”

  At the car, she locked Charlie into his car seat and climbed in.

  “It’s hot, Mama,” Charlie said, already starting to squirm.

  “Yeah, I know. It’s Maui, son. Give it a minute for the air to get cool.” She cranked the air conditioner up as far as it would go.

  They rode another mile and Charlie fussed a little more, his rarely cranky side rearing its head.

  “I can’t breathe,” he said.

  She looked in the mirror at him. His face was red, a sheen of sweat making him glitter in the reflection. She looked at the air-conditioner knob. It was set right. All the way on cool. She put her hand in front of it.

  It was blowing nothing but hot tropical air.

  “Crap, Charlie. The air-conditioning isn’t working. I’m sorry, buddy.” She hit the electric window buttons and put them down on all sides. It didn’t feel great, but it was better than the stagnant warm air from the vents. While her hair whipped into her face, stinging her eyes, she tried to remain calm.

  What else could happen to her in one week?

  Charlie didn’t try to talk over the sound of air rushing through their windows, so it gave Maggie a little time to think. She was going to call the bank as soon as she got home and demand they open her account. But even that wouldn’t pay for maintenance on her air-conditioning if the coil was bad. Hopefully it just needed a few cans of Freon, and she could do that herself. She hoped it was that simple. According to Liam, used cars on Maui had a bad reputation for being junkers, but Maggie had gotten the best that she could find with what little funds she had to work with. If it was a lemon, she was sunk. There’d be no way to get Charlie to the inn or her to work.

  Her pulse began to race, and she felt her eye twitch.

  She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before Charlie could feel the stress. He’d already dealt with enough because of her gas station fiasco.