“I know. It’s okay, Abby. I’m here. Let me be your strength as long as you need.”
Abby nodded and dabbed the corner of her eyes. “Having you here makes a difference. You’re all I need.”
Chapter Five — Sick Day
“I’m sorry I’m late for dinner,” I hollered into the house the next day and leaned my damp umbrella next to the entryway table.
After the second interview, I’d decided to stroll on the beach and take pictures. It had sprinkled at first and then the rain had come tumbling down. Luckily, there had been a convenience store nearby with umbrellas in stock. I didn’t mind getting wet, but I didn’t want to ruin my camera.
“Hello?” No one had come to greet me. Not even Tyler.
Abby dragged her feet out of her bedroom wearing a white bathrobe, sipping from a mug I had gifted her for Christmas two years past that read Mother Knows Best.
I furrowed my brow and laid my camera on the side table. As I headed for the kitchen, Abby’s slippers slapped along the hardwood floor.
“Are you ready for bed already?” I stopped beside the sink, blocking her way. “Aren’t you going to ...”
She ran her fingers through her messy hair as if she’d just woken up. Then she rubbed her watery, red eyes, and itched the pink and raw area around her nose.
“Oh, Abby, you’re sick.” I gave her a sympathetic frown, and then I took out a green teabag from the cabinet and a mug from the dish rack. “You were fine last night. What happened?”
She leaned against the wall by the stove and rubbed at her neck. “I woke up with a sore throat. I took some medicine but it kept getting worse. I picked up Tyler early from daycare. I think he gave me whatever is going around his class.”
Last night, we decorated the tree with ornaments and strung the multicolored flashing lights. Tyler had been running a slight fever at bedtime, so we’d given him medicine and put him to bed early, and he had been fine in the morning.
I had warned my sister not to sleep with him, but of course she hadn’t listened. Abby was prone to catching colds; she had missed more school days than I ever had.
“I told you he would get you sick. You should have told him to sleep in his own room.” I didn’t mean to sound like a scolding mother, but this could have been avoided.
“I know, but he was scared.” She rubbed the warmth from her mug as she shuffled to the dining table. “It’s just that he’s growing up so fast, and pretty soon he won’t need me.”
“I know.” I couldn’t claim to know how she felt, but if I felt helpless, I could only imagine her distress. “How’s he feeling?” I poured hot water into the mug and watched the steam rise.
Abby eased into the dining chair, and the vinyl squeaked as she shifted. “He doesn’t have a fever. He’s in his room watching cartoons. I told him he had to sleep by himself until I get better.”
I sat across from her and took a slow drink. “Good. And if he gets scared, I’ll have him sleep with me.”
“Thanks.” She massaged her temples.
“What are sisters for?” I flashed an exaggerated smile.
She twisted her mouth to the side. “Speaking of what are sisters for ... I need a favor.”
“Of course, just let me know.” I sipped my tea and placed my mug on the table with a light thud.
“I need you to work for me tomorrow. Stella will be there to answer phone calls. I just need you to answer questions for the customers, if there are any. And hopefully sell a piece.”
“Stella?”
“She’s fairly new and recently graduated from college. She wanted to take a year off before jumping into grad school. She’s trying to figure things out.”
“Aren’t we all,” I murmured.
Secretly I had always wanted to own my own gallery, and I wanted to see hers. I traced the palm tree design on the mug with my thumb. “Sure. I can be there as many days as you need.”
“Thank you. Do you have other interviews lined up?”
“No. I only had two.”
“Are you sure you can work for me tomorrow? I hate to ask, but—”
“Stop. It’s fine, Abby. You were going to take me with you tomorrow anyway.”
Abby nursed her tea, holding it close to her chest. Her gaze darted to the Christmas tree by the hearth. “True, but not to work there. But if you had other plans, you don’t have to change it. I can arrange—”
“Stop. I said it’s fine.” My tone went sharp with annoyance.
She offered a tender smile. “Thank you. I owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me squat.”
I shifted my attention to the window, where movement caught my eye. I’d thought I’d seen a cab, which made me think of Leonardo. Actually, every cab made me think of him, and there were plenty on this island, especially since Abby’s house bordered an area with several hotels.
I hadn’t expected to see him again, but there he’d been at the shopping plaza with a beautiful woman. Poipu wasn’t a big city and I wondered if I would run into him again. If I did, what would I say? Would he remember me?
A guy who paid for strangers’ cab rides without expecting anything in return wasn’t the kind of person you met every day. Everybody had a story to tell. I wondered what his was.
Being a painter had enhanced my natural curiosity. In one of my college classes, I’d had to people-watch for a project and capture their emotions on the canvas. I always imagined people as paintings and tried to read their emotions. But Leonardo was hard to read, and his aura of reserve intrigued me. He didn’t seem to be the type of man that wore his heart on his sleeve.
“How was your interview today?” My sister’s weak voice pulled my gaze away from the window.
“The interview went well. We’ll see. Anyway, have you ever had anyone pay for your cab before?” It didn’t make sense to keep thinking about that brief encounter, but if anyone, I could talk to my sister about it.
She leaned closer, her deep brown eyes locked on mine. “Why do you ask?”
“To make a long story short, when I got in a cab at the airport, a hot guy was already inside. I tried to get out, but he insisted I stay. He even paid for my ride.”
I skipped how he’d made the air hotter and how I’d wanted him to share a ride with me so I could savor the feeling a little longer.
My sister gave me a sidelong glance and narrowed her eyes at me. “Why did you get in when there was someone else already inside?”
I jerked a shoulder. “Like I said, it’s a long story.”
“To answer your question, no. No one has ever done that, handsome or not.”
“It’s no big deal.”
My sister opened her mouth to speak, but then footsteps pattered into the room.
“Auntie Kate. You’re home.” Tyler dashed over and nestled his head on my shoulder. He smelled of vanilla and honey, the kids’ soap Abby had used since he was a baby.
“Hey Ty.” I kissed his cheek and laid my palm against his forehead. No fever. Perfect. “You feeling better?”
“Yes, but Mom is sick.” He peered up through his long eyelashes at my sister, a rueful pout on his face, and then he pulled out a chair and plopped next to me. “That makes me feel bad.”