4 Kaua'i Me a River (10 page)

We
compromised with me offering to give up my downstairs bedroom to Farrah. I’d
move into the guest room adjacent to Steve’s bedroom on the second floor. “With
the two of them downstairs you won’t hear a thing. And I’ve laid down the law
with Farrah about housekeeping. Diapers will be disposed of properly and
bottles and nipples will be washed and put away promptly.”

“
Nipples
?”
said Steve.  He shimmied in disgust. “Let’s avoid mentioning stuff like that, okay?
I won’t be able to get that image out of my head for a week.”

“Oh
get over it. You were a baby once.”

“Not
hardly. I sprang full-bearded from an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog.”

“You’re
not ‘full-bearded’ now,” I said, reaching over to stroke Steve’s pathetic Brad
Pitt goatee. He’d spent a small fortune on online products including a ‘facial
hair stimulator’ that looked suspiciously like a vibrator I’d come across at a
rather tawdry bridal fair.

I went
on. “Please act nice. Farrah’s been through a lot this past year.”

Steve
reluctantly agreed. “How long is the rug rat going to live with us?”

“Hard
to say. I’m going to get in touch with Sifu Doug’s lawyer brother, James. I
have to play it cool, since Farrah doesn’t want ‘the man’ involved. But I’m
worried the baby’s mother will pop back into the picture after she comes down
from whatever she was hopped up on when she ditched the kid. If that happens, Farrah
will be heartbroken.”

“Farrah’s
not planning on keeping the kid forever, is she?” Steve’s voice zoomed up a
couple of octaves.

“Seems
that’s what she’s thinking. But it’s not like she came across a kitten in her
dryer vent. She’s going to have to jump through some hoops to be able to keep
him.”

“Whoa.
But you just said they weren’t going to stay for very long. I mean, we all love
Farrah. No argument there. But a droopy drawers kid pitching food off a high
chair and the TV blasting Barney the Dinosaur when I’m trying to sleep in? Ugh.”

“Don’t
worry. The kid will be long gone before he ever needs a high chair.”

“Pinkie
swear?” said Steve.

I held
up my pinkie finger. “Swear.”

“On
another subject, tell me what you found out about your mom over in Kaua'i.”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”
he said. “Then why did the lawyer make you go over there?”

“To
let me know my SOB father had died.”

“Wow,
you found your father? Who was he?”

“I
just told you. He was an SOB and now he’s dead. End of story.”

CHAPTER 11

On Thursday
morning I got up before dawn and went down to the Palace of Pain, the martial
arts studio where I work out. Because I’d had so many weddings in June I’d been
spotty in getting in my workouts. I hoped it was early enough that my
instructor, Sifu Doug, wouldn’t be in yet.

No
such luck. His car was parked in the alley.

“Hey,
stranger,” he said when I came inside.

“Hey, Sifu.
I’ve been over in Kaua'i.” I left it vague, hoping he’d think I’d been
off-island for most of June.

“How
long were you over there?”

“I just
got back yesterday.”

“Okay,
don’t tell me. But you know if you don’t keep up your practice you’ll get
soft.” He nodded toward the wall where my picture hung alongside the five other
black belts, all of them guys, who trained at PoP, “You know lots of
keiki
girls
look up to you.”

“Sorry,
Sifu. But this was a busy month.”

“Then I
better let you get to it. You gonna go through your forms?” It wasn’t a
question, it was an order.

“Yes,
Sifu.”

“All
of them?”

“Yes,
sir.”

I’d planned
to stay about an hour but it turned out to be closer to two. I took a quick
shower and started to head out when I noticed Sifu Doug sitting in his office.
No time like the present. I poked my head inside.

“You
got a minute?” I said.

“Sure,
just move that stuff off the chair.”

I sat
down on a metal folding chair across from Doug. Three years ago when I first
laid eyes on him he’d scared the daylights out of me. Former Army Ranger,
chiseled good looks, eyes that bore into opponents with such ferocity that he’d
won more than a few fights by sheer intimidation.

“What’s
happenin’?” he said.

“I’ve
got a problem.”

He
smiled. “Pali, you know I love you like a
sista
, but just once I’d like
you to come into my office carrying something other than a problem.”

“I
know; I apologize. How about I make you some cookies or something?”

“I got
a wife for that,” he said. “But next time you hear some gossip, or a good joke,
you come tell me. I get first dibs.”

I
thought about my meeting yesterday. Talk about a joke. My father had been
Hawaii’s cable mogul and I found out I had six siblings. And from the looks of
things I’d be coming into some serious cash real soon. But I wasn’t there to
talk about me.

“You
got it, Sifu. Next time I get something juicy you’ll be the first to know.”

“Okay,
so what’s on your mind?”

 “All
of this is just conjecture, okay? A total what-if.”

“Got
it.”

“If
someone asks someone else to raise their kid for them, is it legal?”

“You
know it is. We got
hanai
kids all over these islands. You were a
hanai
kid yourself, weren’t you?”

“Right.
But my mother was dead and my father was gone. There was nobody to tell my Auntie
Mana she couldn’t take me in.”

“What
are you getting at? You got that biological clock tickin’ and you thinkin’ of snatchin’
a kid? That is totally
not
legal, believe me.” He smiled but his eyes
held a squint of concern.

“No,
no, nothing like that. Like I said, this is just a ‘what if’. But if a mother
came to me and asked me to raise her kid because she couldn’t, could I do it?”

“I
think so. That’s how
hanai
works. You both agree. On the mainland I
think they call it an open adoption. But you’d have to ask my brother James about
the stuff you gotta do to make it all legal. He’s the lawyer.”

“What
happens if you don’t do it all legal?”

“Pali,
I don’t know what you’re getting at here. But if you don’t do it legal, then I
suppose if the parents change their mind they could come after you. It could be
bad. They could demand you give the kid back. They could call you a kidnapper.
You’d have to ask James, but kidnapping’s a serious crime. Maybe even federal.”

“Yeah,
I think that’s right.”

“You
want me to ask James to give you a call?” he said. “Or is this all still ‘what
if’?”

“I’d
appreciate a call. I’m working at lot, so please have him call me at the shop,
not at home.”

“Will
do.” He got up and extended a hand. We did his little ‘man shake’ thing with a
few fist bumps and slides and then he slapped me on the shoulder. “Take care of
yourself, Pali. No good comes from messing around with the law.”  He winked. “You
think you want a kid? I bet I could talk Lani into handing over one of ours.”

***

I went
to my shop and started sorting through the mound of mail that had come through
the slot while I was gone. Most of it was junk mail and catalogs, but there
were also some vendor bills from all the weddings I’d done that month.

I felt
restless and hungry so I went next door for a yogurt.

“Hey,
Bea,” I yelled as I went in. “Still working, I see.”

“Uh-huh.
I don’ know what’s wrong with Farrah. Last night somebody tell me they hear
cryin’ upstairs. She okay when you went up there?”

“Yeah,
it was probably just Sir Lipton whining.”

“Winning?
Did that dog win somethin’? That’s a smart dog, I guess. But all I ever see is
it do its business in the alley and then go back up the stairs. They give prizes
for that?”

I got
up close and talked slowly. “I think it was Farrah’s dog making the noise.”

“Oh
yeah. Prob’ly wanted to be let out.”

I
bought my yogurt and went to my shop and called Steve. “I don’t know what to
do. I’ve got a million things to do to catch up, but I’ve got to get Farrah out
of her apartment. It can’t wait until the weekend. Somebody at the store heard
the baby crying last night.”

He
sighed so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

“Let
me get back to you,” he said.

Right
after I hung up, the phone rang again. “That was quick,” I said.

“What
was quick, dear?” It was Eleanor.

“Oh,
sorry, Eleanor. I thought you were someone else.”

“Who
else would I be, dear?”

This
wasn’t starting out well.

“It’s great
to hear from you, Eleanor. I’m working on your wedding even as we speak.”

“You
and Charles need to talk,” she said.

That’d
be a first. Up to that point, Charles had been more like a ventriloquist dummy
than a participant in his own wedding.

“Sure.
When would he like to meet?”

“He
doesn’t know about it yet. You need to call him.”

“Okay…”
I hoped she’d fill in more blanks, but she stayed uncharacteristically silent.
“Eleanor, do you have a number where I can reach him?”

“Just
call his room. I think he’s there now. Room one-three-one. Same place as me.”

She
hung up.

I
looked up the hotel name on Charles and Eleanor’s consultation folder. They
were staying at an upscale resort in Wailea. I called and asked to speak to Mr.
Charles Lindberg in room one-thirty-one. I figured I’d better say the room
number so they wouldn’t think it was a crank call involving the other Charles
Lindbergh.

“Lindberg,”
Charles barked when he picked up the phone. I realized I’d never heard his
voice before. It sounded more commanding than his chubby bald presence let on.

“Hello
Mr. Lindberg,” I said. “This is Pali Moon, your wedding planner. I’m calling
because—”

He cut
me off. “You’re calling because the bitch made you call.”

“Uh,
I…” What could I say?

“Look,”
he said. “You seem like a nice enough kid. This has nothing to do with you.
Tell her I won’t go along with it. That’s the message.
I’m not going to do it,
bitch
.” He hung up.

I
slowly put the receiver in the phone set. Their wedding was in six days. Not
good. Not good at all.

CHAPTER 12

Ten
minutes later my shop phone rang again. I answered, hoping it was Charles Lindberg
regretfully recanting his message. It wasn’t. It was Steve.

“I’ve
got some people lined up,” he said.

“Have
you offered them blindfolds and cigarettes?”

“Very
funny. No, I’ve got some guys who’ve offered to help move Farrah.”

“When?”

“Right
now. I’m coming down there to pick you both up. Tell Farrah to be ready in
twenty.”

By the
time he arrived at the shop he’d softened a little. “You know, ever since that
sitcom ‘Modern Family’ showed those two guys adopting a baby it’s been
tres
tres chic
for gay men to do the family thing,” he said. “But I’m not falling
for it. It’s a fad. But if Farrah wants a kid, okay I’ll go along. I’ve snagged
a crib, a bunch of baby crap like bouncy things and stuffed, uh, stuff. Steven’s
sister even sent over some baby clothes.”

I
hugged him. “Big, big
mahalo
, Steve. Farrah will be thrilled.”

“I’m
sure she will. Anyway, a guy I know from the B & C who’s got a pick-up offered
to haul the big stuff. He’s already on his way so we need to get moving.”

“You’re
the best,” I said.

We
started toward the stairs to Farrah’s apartment. “But we have a deal, right?”
he said. “No high chair.”

“Both
mother and child will be long gone before a high chair is necessary.”

When
we got to the house Steve’s friend, Levi, was already there. I’d never met Levi
before, but he was a looker. I’m sure he’d broken a few women’s hearts who
didn’t have the effective ‘gaydar’ I’d acquired since Steve had come into my
life.

“Nice
to meet you, ma’am,” said Levi as we shook hands. He was one of those cowboy
types that some gay men and a lot of women really go for. ‘Cowboy’ isn’t my thing.
I lean toward guys with a more conventional style, but I could certainly see
how those strip-tease eyes and unruly shock of blond hair could get the juices
flowing.