and unfamiliar.
The past, present and future always seemed to collide when Maddie came here. A trick of the mind. A side effect of memories. She was tired. It had to be why she suddenly felt down. She rubbed absentmindedly at her stomach and barely heard someone say something about her being hungry. She wasn’t, but she couldn’t move her lips to explain. Her lids felt heavy and the hard glass of the window touched her temple as the world outside disappeared. She missed having good friends around. She wanted more than anything to see her cousin Pippa, but truth be told, she wished Haki was going to be there tonight, too.
MADDIE SET HER hair clip next to her keepsake box and gave her scalp a quick rub. The wooden box carved with elephants had been a gift from her uncle Jack and auntie Anna. Hope had delivered it to Maddie when she’d visited College Town, Pennsylvania, for the first time, back when Maddie was ten. She pushed her hair over her shoulders and ran her fingertips along the carvings and the lid’s seam. She wouldn’t open it. Not right now, at least.
“Why isn’t this cute guy on your bed in Philly?” Pippa plopped onto Maddie’s bed and picked up the plush monkey—a lemur, to be specific—that had been her favorite doll when she was a kid. It had been a gift Pippa had given her shortly after they’d first met. Most kids under the age of five wouldn’t have given up a new toy, but Pippa wasn’t like most, not then and not now, and the moment she’d given Maddie that monkey, their friendship had been sealed.
“I can’t take everything back with me.” You could if you wanted to. She turned away from her dresser and collapsed onto the bed next to Pippa. “My place is small and every time I visit and pack to go back, I run out of room in my suitcase.”
“You could mail yourself a box, you know.” Pippa made the monkey’s head nod and Maddie let a small laugh escape. What was it about hanging out with her that made Maddie feel like a kid again? Like she didn’t always have to be serious or prove herself. There had been a point in her childhood, after her mother died, when she’d become painfully serious, but once Hope had entered their lives, Maddie had changed and promised herself she’d never go back to feeling that way again. What had happened? Growing up? She snatched the little lemur from Pippa.
“You want me to stick this poor guy in a box? You’re so mean.”
“I know. I’m terrible. Besides, I kind of like that you haven’t totally vacated the place. It made it a lot more comfortable when I stayed here during university, for one thing. And it always felt reassuring. I could count on you coming back to visit. Not necessarily because you missed your family and friends, but because of this guy, of course.” Pippa smirked at her. It had been a while since she’d seen her, but Maddie hadn’t realized it actually bothered Pippa.
She reached over and twirled one of Pippa’s corkscrew locks around her finger and gave it a tug.
“You know I miss all of you and would come here more if I had time.”
Her stomach pinched. It wasn’t exactly a lie. She did miss everyone, but staying away was less stressful. Even the pressure of proving herself to her boss wasn’t as bad as trying to live up to her dad’s expectations in real time.
“I know you’re busy. Being a lawyer must keep you weighed down with things. I personally couldn’t imagine having to work in an office all day. I think I’d lose my mind. You used to love the open spaces, too. Oh, the begging to get your dad to let you spend the weekend at Busara, over and over and over.”
Maddie took a deep breath as she studied the fine crack that was making its way across her bedroom ceiling. How long had it been there? Did her parents know? Did it matter?
“Hey, you.” Pippa sat up, so Maddie followed suit. “I can leave if you need to sleep.”
“No, why? I’m good.”
“You were daydreaming. I asked you if you ever adopted a cat. You said last time that you’d think about it. If the answer’s no, then whoever this guy is who’s allergic to them better be worth it.”
“Gosh. No. To both. No boyfriend, and I don’t have any pets except for a Betta fish. He’s blue this time. My neighbor’s kid is watching him for me, since I’m here so long.”
She had kept a fish in a small tank ever since the first fish her well-intentioned dad had gotten her as a kid. She’d always loved animals and wanted a pet. In a moment of parental weakness—not a term that came to mind often with her dad—he’d succumbed to the idea. Rather, he’d decided to use bribery to get her to go to a therapy session. She’d expected a kitten or a puppy. He bought a fish. Not a big tank or a school of fish. Nope. A single, red Betta. Named Ben the Betta, after her dad. Funny how, though she’d been a bit disappointed with that first fish, she got hooked on him. When Ben the Betta died, she’d gotten another, then another after that. Each with a name beginning with the letter B. And when she left Barracuda with her brothers in Kenya and returned to Pennsylvania for college, she found herself at the shop buying another red one. She’d named this one Bilbo, and had decorated his bowl like a hobbit hole. It was sort of comforting having him around; plus, she liked feeding him.
“How do you do it? I mean, it just sounds so lonely over there. I have to admit, when you emailed and said you were coming, I thought something exciting was up. Like you were getting engaged and needed to plan a wedding and—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Pippa.” She’d have to meet a decent guy for that to happen. The few she’d even looked twice at over the years were either the kind of guys who commanded respect but were also narcissistic jerks who didn’t get her, or they were nice, decent guys...the kind that her father and brothers could flatten with one look. Not that that should matter, but there always seemed to be something lacking.
“I’m just so used to having everyone around—especially Haki, who, by the way, says hello.”
Maddie smiled and hopped off the bed.
“How is he? Or should I ask how the two of you are?” Maddie peered out her window to the garden below. She watched as Delila lifted the hem of her vibrant wrap skirt, crossed the cool grass in her bare feet and began plucking figs from a tree overhanging a couple of wicker chairs. Maddie sat back down on the edge of the bed, took off her socks and wiggled her toes. Man, that felt good. Freeing.
“Haki is the same guy you last saw. Never changes.” Pippa chuckled. “He was such a little man as a kid, he didn’t have much to change. And I think we’re getting closer. You know what I mean?”
No, she really didn’t know. Or understand. The last time she’d seen Haki, she thought he’d changed a lot. Or maybe it seemed that way because she didn’t see him all the time. Then again, Pippa knew him better.
“You think you’re getting closer? Nothing official yet?” Maddie threw her socks in a woven-grass hamper and rummaged in the bottom drawer of her dresser for a pair of loose-fitting khakis. She stripped down to her bra and underwear and added her gray dress slacks and thin sweater to the laundry, then put on the khakis and a green T-shirt. She really needed to wear these on the flight home. So much more comfortable. Her dress slacks were the most casual thing in her closet back in Philly that were decent enough to leave her apartment in. She just didn’t have much occasion to wear anything between business attire and pajamas.
“Like I said, when it comes to change, he tends to walk on eggs. Slow and cautious. I suppose
