Page 38 of Talk Story

She flexed her toes.

“Good,” she said. “Glad to put this little adventure behind me.” Aunt Fae had brought flip-flops—“rubbah slippahs” as the locals called them—in her bag. She slid them on and walked out of the building with the long-legged stride of a woman who had been patient with a gimp foot for six weeks—and now was done.

That was the stride that I associated with her walking the beach in the early morning in Maine, before anyone else was up. A stride that said she was herself again, fully.

I drove us home.

We didn’t talk about what came next in terms of living arrangements, though I’d moved back in from Keone’s to “keep an eye on her” while the foot was in the cast. We drove the back road in the evening with the windows down and the smell of the ocean and the wind on the barren hills, coming and going over about fifty-nine bridges and around at least six hundred curves. Aunt Fae had her elbow out the window—the posture of a New England woman who had discovered a new level of contentment.

“Well,” she said, about fifteen minutes from home, as she gazed at the ocean.

“Well, indeed,” I said.

“I suppose you’ll be making some changes.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Not right away.”

“That’s nice. I like having you.” A pause while the highway curved away from the ocean and into a green tunnel of hala and ironwood. “The New Ohia house is too big for one person, though.”

“It’s the right size for two or more,” I said. “Maybe you could think about whether the caretaker position has room for a partner. Or get a roommate?”

She glanced at me, frowning. “I don’t want a stranger in my home.”

“Just an idea. Also, Opal and Artie were asking about full-time help,” I said. “Someone who knows the inventory and the systems. And who could manage the place when they travel. Which they want to do more of now that Artie’s health is stable.”

“You’ve been thinking about this. How to keep me busy,” she said.

“A bit,” I said.

The ocean, streaked with reflections from low clouds, winked in and out of view between thick trees and green bluffs. We passed a mynah bird sleep tree; they were making a racket as they gossiped about the day.

“I’ve come to love this place,” she said. “I never expected that.” She stared at one white foot and one tanned foot. “I thought I was coming here for you. And you do need help, Katherine, regularly. That hasn’t changed.”

“True. And I came back to the house to help you,” I said. “We’re family. Always will be. It’s good to be with family.”

“Yep.” A slight, dry warmth in her voice. “But I’m staying here on Maui because I want to, now. That’s different.”

“I know,” I said. “And I’m glad.”

“I’ll think about working more at the General Store. If Opal and Artie will have me.”

“Opal asked me to ask you,” I said. “You’re her first choice.”

“Of course I am.” Aunt Fae gave a snort-laugh. “That tracks.”

“We can both take our time with any changes,” I said; that encompassed a world of things.

We drove the last stretch home, past palms and lava rock walls and mango trees and the ocean, all the way to the model home that had been ours to live in since the New Ohia development was taken over by the state. It would continue to be Auntie’s home still, until I made some changes.

When I was ready. Not right away.

I was getting out of a shower, a welcome refresher after the long day, when Keone called. “I know it’s late notice, but Pali and I want to take you and Elle out for dinner. The four of us,” he said. “Casual. That Thai place. Not a debrief or a case review; this is a dinner date.”

“Does Pali know it’s dinner and not a debrief?” I smiled, toweling my hair. “He’s going to want to hear all I’ve got to share about what went down today. So will you.”

“Oh yeah? As your fiancé, I deserve a preview.”

I told him what had happened: the confrontation with Chang, the raid of the warehouse in Kahului, the arrest of David Santos.