Tyler and I cackled with exhilaration and we moved onto a higher level.
“Eat it. Eat it. You piece of ...” I bit my tongue just in time when the screen went blank. “What happened? Sh—” I slapped my hand over my mouth. “I meant ... sham.”
Tyler crossed his arms. “Sham? That’s not a word. I know what you were going to say. I’ve heard it before, plenty of times from you and Mom.”
I snickered and frowned.
“That’s okay. Mom says it all the time and asks me not to say it out loud.” He brought his voice to a whisper, his eyes glinting with mischief. “But I say it when I’m in my room alone.”
We shared a laugh.
He’s the cutest.
“But seriously, did you forget to charge this or did we break it?”
He jerked a shoulder. “I’ll go charge it. Can we play later?”
“Sure. I’m going to work on a few things on my computer. Let me know when you’re ready.” I needed to return emails and look for other jobs, then perhaps read an urban fantasy novel about the Greek gods I’d bought for this trip.
“Okie dokie.” Tyler skipped out of my room.
Chapter Seven — Carousel Art Gallery
“You’re taking me to school, right?” Tyler leaned his elbows on the dining table and scooped up a spoonful of cereal I had poured for him.
I massaged his shoulders, tickling him. “Yes. And I’m going to pick you up, too.”
Tyler giggled and squirmed. He went back to his eating, swinging his legs, humming to the tune of Unicorns versus Skeletons.
That kid. He has my heart.
I weaved around the dining table, put my coffee mug on the counter, and headed to Abby’s room.
“I’ll be right back,” I said. “I’m going to check up on your mother.”
Abby lay with multiple pillows supporting her back and her eyes closed. Nyquil and a water bottle were on the bedside table beside her cell phone, a blown-glass lamp, and a photo of Steve. She seemed to be sleeping, so I took a step out of her room.
“Hey. You ready for work?” Her voice sounded dry and hoarse.
I leaned against the door and crossed my arms. “Just about. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of Ty, take care of the gallery, and I’ll even get dinner ready ... or I’ll pick up something on the way home.”
She closed her eyes halfway and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Thank you. You’re good for something, I guess.” She tried to laugh, but she coughed instead.
I gave her a half-hearted smile. “Guess I am. I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”
“Thanks, little sis.” She closed her eyes and grunted softly. “I hate being sick, but I’m so glad you’re here.”
Me, too. If I weren’t here, she would’ve had to rely on someone else. Abby had made some friends in Poipu, but I didn’t know how close she was to them.
I eased the door closed and went to my room. I wished good things for her. Hopefully, her gallery would do well and she wouldn’t have to work so hard.
Maybe I should create some pieces for her to sell, but I needed to get my creative juices back first. Not sure when that would happen. It had been a year since I’d picked up a paintbrush. After the first breakup, I had no desire to paint.
“Ty, you almost done with breakfast?” I shouted from my room.
“Yes,” he yelled.
I slung my purse over my shoulder and headed toward his voice. No Tyler at the dining table. Where had he gone? I turned to head toward his room and heard a squeak.
“I’m right here.” He giggled.
Tyler was standing in front of the door. I didn’t know how I’d missed him.
“I’m proud of you for being ready.” I helped him put on his light jacket and opened the door.
“Yeah. Mom says that all the time.”
“She should.” I winked.
I called a driver and led Tyler outside. We waited on the sidewalk by a coconut tree. When the car came, we hopped in. After about a ten-minute drive, we arrived at Poipu Preschool.
A Christmas tree stood in the corner of the front office, and flashing lights adorned the wreath around the receptionist’s desk. Pictures of snowmen, Santa Claus, reindeer, and stockings on fireplaces, illustrated by the children, hung on the large bulletin board.
Some kids waved at Tyler and a few mothers smiled when our gazes met.
“Auntie Kate, you have to sign your name.” Tyler pointed at a paper on a clipboard on the table next to the office desk.
I had been drawn to the cute pictures and forgotten to check Tyler in.
“Oh, sorry.” I scribbled my name on the sheet and set the pen down. “There. I’m done. Now what?”
“Bye.” He gave me a high five and dashed inside the classroom.
My focus shifted back to the bulletin board and then to a smaller board next to it, plastered with notes and fliers that looked unofficial. A wanted post caught my attention with a phone number listed below.
Requiring a nanny for two weeks. Call Mona.
I fished out my cell from my purse and took a picture of the ad. Maybe. I was good with kids. Just as long as they weren’t infants.
Since the interviews hadn’t panned out, I’d started considering my other options. Rather than looking for the perfect job, I’d started wondering about any job, even if I had to hop around for a while. I also could help my sister at the gallery.
The idea had come to me that morning, but I didn’t know if I wanted to carry it through. It might derail my career, or it could lead to something I hadn’t even imagined yet.
I peeked at Tyler and smiled through the glass door. He was chatting away with two friends on the carpet with books open. They must be Jace and Bridget. I imagined him telling them how he’d beaten his own high score in Unicorns versus Skeletons. With a quick wave, I left.
I strolled down the sidewalk with the warm sun on my face, admiring the quaint bakeries and shops selling hand-made jewelry. A few minutes later, I’d arrived at Abby’s gallery.
I stood in front of a huge, bold blue sign that read Carousel Art Gallery and inhaled a deep breath. Baby steps, Kate, baby steps. Just because I’d have access to brushes and canvases doesn’t mean I had to paint.
I pushed through the double glass door and entered.
Beautiful paintings adorned stark white walls—a mixture of landscapes, portraits, and abstracts in both oil and acrylic. Two paintings stood out: Tree Tunnel, a dreamy portrayal of the eucalyptus tree tunnel on Maluhia road, the one Brandon the cab driver had pointed out to me. And Wailua Falls, a rainbow arched over a lush mountain and sparkling waterfall.
Sculptures of angels, fairies, and fantasy characters were displayed on shelves by the front window.
A wooden tea table sat between two white leather sofas in the center of the gallery. And against the side wall, a coffeemaker, water bottles, assorted box of teas, and other amenities were on a rectangular table under a black-and-white woodcut print of a sea turtle.
“Hi, Stella.” I waved to the cute young woman at the small reception desk with a pale complexion and shoulder-length dark hair.
I glanced at her desk when she didn’t respond. Besides a laptop and a land line phone, she had a napkin perched like a tent over the open book to the far left.