5. Nell

5

Nell

N ell’s stomach churned as she pushed her new stroller up the street to A Place of Refuge. The familiar wall of greenery that shielded the property from the street sent a wave of anxiety through her body. Apparently it did the same to her daughter, because Cassie started to drag her feet and pull at Nell’s hand.

“Why are we here?” she whined.

“For our art class, remember?”

“We’re doing that here ?”

“Yep.” Nell let Cassie’s hand fall and kept walking, confident that her five year old would stay close. There were no cars coming up the long road that stretched nearly a mile from one main street to the other.

“But we don’t live here anymore!” Cassie scrambled to catch up and grabbed the hem of her shirt.

“That’s true. Lots of other kids still do, though.”

“I don’t even like those kids.”

“You haven’t even met half of them. You could make some new friends.”

“Maybe.” Cassie sighed. “I like playschool better.”

“Me too, I love playschool. But we’re taking a break, remember?”

“Why do we have to take a break?”

“All schools take breaks sometimes.”

“But why?”

“Auntie ‘ōlena needs rest.”

“But why?”

Nell took a deep breath and let the question go unanswered. She punched in the gate code that Halia had provided – it had changed several times over since Nell’s short stay at the women’s center – and pushed her oversized stroller through.

“Close the gate behind us, would you?”

“Why?” Cassie demanded.

Nell just sighed and gave her a look.

“Because the little kids might run out in the street?” she guessed.

Nell nodded and then listened for a click as Cassie closed the tall, sturdy gate.

Everett had started to fuss as soon as the stroller stopped moving, and Cassie ran over to hand him a teether that hung from a ribbon.

“He wants to get out, Mom.”

“Let’s just walk the rest of the way to the picnic table. Do you want to push the stroller?”

“Yeah!”

“Nell!” Halia greeted them across the yard. “You’re early.”

“Is that okay? I wasn’t sure how long it would take to walk over here.”

“Of course! Go ahead and get settled. I’ll round up the kids.”

Nell pushed the stroller over to the picnic tables, where Cassie entertained Everett with funny faces while she unloaded everything she had stashed in the big basket beneath Everett’s seat. The towing capacity of the thing was the reason that Nell had bought it off another mom in town whose kid had outgrown it.

When Everett was smaller, she used to carry him on her front and everything else in a backpack. But the little bruiser was at least twice as heavy as Cassie had been at his age, and carrying him everywhere had started to take a toll on Nell’s shoulders and spine.

The flowers came out first, all of the tropical cuttings that Nell had piled on top of everything else. After that, she pulled out stacks of watercolor paper and paints and brushes, all donated by ‘ōlena from the supplies that she had amassed for Pualena Playschool.

“Can we help?”

Nell looked up to see two little girls watching her from across the table. They were new arrivals, and Nell’s heart twisted as she took in the circles under their eyes and the dark bruises on the older girl’s arm.

“We’re going to need some cups of water,” she told them.

“Okay!” The older girl sprinted to the outdoor kitchen with her sister right behind her.

When the kids gathered around, there were ten in total: a smattering of younger kids who ranged from anxious to excited, plus a couple of older boys whose mother had confiscated a remote-controlled car and sent them over to join the rest of the kids. They stood at the back with crossed arms and sour expressions.

“I thought we could paint some flowers together today.” Nell’s heart sped with anxious excitement. She had gotten used to managing all the playschool kids, but standing in front of a group of unfamiliar faces was something else entirely. “Who here has used watercolors before?”

Eight hands went up – and if she had to guess, the older boys who kept their arms crossed were just making a show of sullenness.

“That’s great! Has anybody painted on wet paper before?”

“You can’t get paper wet,” said one of the younger boys. “It gets all to pieces!”

“That’s usually true! But look how thick and strong this paper is.” She handed one of the sheets of watercolor paper across the table, and a couple of the kids murmured like they were impressed. “That means that if we get it a little bit wet, we can do some fun things with the paint. I thought we could play around with the wet paper technique first and then give the flowers a try. Sound good?”

Nell had gotten the kids all set up with paint and paper and sponges by the time Everett started to cry. She picked him up out of the stroller and tried to soothe him, but he was irate that she had ignored his initial griping. Everett didn’t cry often, but when he did, he wailed . She walked some distance away from the picnic tables to spare the kids’ ears, patted Everett’s back, even tried to nurse him – but he was inconsolable.

“Here, try this.” A woman appeared at her side and offered Everett a special teether that contained frozen fruit in a mesh bag.

Everett quieted as he gnawed on it, still red-faced and hiccupping his distress.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Nell said. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” The woman’s face was familiar – she had arrived at A Place of Refuge just a couple of days before they left – but Nell couldn’t remember her name. “My baby is teething right now too.”

“It just got really bad the past few days. He handled his front teeth like a champ, but I think he has a molar coming in already.”

“Yeah, those are a beast.”

“I’m so sorry, but I don’t remember your name.”

“Alohi.” The woman smiled, and the name clicked into place. She looked worlds better than the last time Nell had seen her.

“That’s right, of course.”

“Teacher!” a girl shrieked.

“That’s me,” Nell said, half laughing. As she moved back towards the group she said, “You’re welcome to join us.”

“You know what? That sounds great. I haven’t painted in years.”

“Typical mom stuff, right? We do everything for our kids but forget that we used to like art too.”

“No kidding. Half of the time, I forget to eat.”

“Been there.”

“You know, the moms here would probably benefit from some art classes as much as the kids. More, maybe.”

Alohi’s words struck Nell so hard that she stumbled to a halt. “You’re so right.”

“Maybe you do a class for us next time.”

“I’m not really an artist, though. I don’t have anything to teach grownups.”

“Sometimes it’s more about creating the space and giving people permission, you know?”

“ Teacher! ” the girl shrieked again.

“What’s up?” Nell jogged over to the kids, jostling Everett enough to make him giggle.

“Bella took all the good ones! I don’t have anything to paint.”

“There are plenty of flowers left.”

“Like what?”

“These are my favorite.” Nell picked up a strange Hawaiian flower that grew in hanging bunches of alternating buds. They were bright red, tipped with green and yellow. “Anybody know what these are called?”

“Helicania rostrata.” The voice was so quiet that Nell almost didn’t hear it. She looked around for the source and saw a young teenager hovering nearby.

“That’s right,” she said, surprised. She held out a sheet of paper, and the girl accepted it with a grin. To the younger kids, Nell said, “These are also called hanging lobster claw! I thought they would be a fun one to paint.”

As the little kids jostled over the flowers, one of the older boys spun a brush between his fingers with a pinched look on his face.

“Do we have to paint flowers?” he asked.

“You can paint whatever you want.”

A mischievous grin stole across his face. “Like blood and guts?”

“Shut up, Jayden!” The teenage girl shoved his arm. “You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

“I’m painting the flowers!” Cassie boasted.

Nell patted her head distractedly, looking for Jayden’s mom across the yard. She spotted her and then caught Alohi’s eye.

“I’ll be right back.”

“No problem.” Alohi joined the kids at the table and asked, “Who’s gonna show me how to use this stuff?”

Nell was back five minutes later with two sketches of Jayden’s remote-controlled car.

“Do you want to paint these?” she asked, setting them down in front of Jayden and his brother.

“That’s pretty sick,” Jayden muttered with a grudging sort of respect. He looked to his brother.

“I guess we could. I mean, she already drew them.”

“It would be rude not to paint them,” Alohi said.

“Where’d you learn to draw like that?” Jayden asked.

Nell just grinned. The sketches were blocky, basic shapes, but kids were easy to impress… if you weren’t trying too hard to impress them.

“If you paint the cars with water first, you can get that cool orange-to-red gradient that the real one has.”

“Yeah, I might try that,” Jayden said. He was still playing it cool, but his eyes sparkled as he reached for the paints.

“I’m painting mine green!” his brother said, not even trying to play it cool anymore.

With Alohi’s encouragement, the moms came and filled out the other tables. Nell settled down on a nearby bench to nurse Everett and sat watching them, her heart full.

“Can we do this again tomorrow?” a boy asked when Nell went to clean up.

“I won’t be here tomorrow, but how about I leave all this stuff with Auntie Alohi? Then you all can paint even when I’m not here.”

“Really?” His eyes went wide. “All your paints?”

“They’re not my paints. A friend of mine gave them to me to give to all of you.”

“Why?”

“Well, she has lots. And it’s fun to share.”

He shrugged and ran off to share the news. “Hey Mommy! We can keep the paints!”

When Nell finally left, she was nearly a half-hour late. Out on the street, Hugh was nowhere to be seen. She clipped Everett into his stroller and checked her phone. There was a short series of texts from Hugh ending in, I’m parked just down the street. Didn’t want to scare anybody by idling outside the gate for too long. Let me know when you’re ready. No rush.

Ready! she texted back.

He pulled up a minute later and jumped out of the car.

For a moment, all that Nell could do was stand and admire him: Hugh Kahele, straight from court. He wore black slacks and a white cotton button-down with the sleeves rolled up. His dark hair was slicked back, and he smiled at her with pure joy even after she had kept him waiting for half an hour.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized as he greeted her with a kiss on the top of her head. “I lost track of time.”

“No big deal.” He smiled at Cassie and asked, “Did you have fun?”

“It was okay, I guess.”

“Just okay?”

“She misses playschool,” Nell said.

“I haven’t seen my friends for a million days,” Cassie whined.

Nell gave Hugh an exasperated look. It had been four days since the end-of-year party.

“I saw some of the playschool kids at the playground thirty minutes ago when I drove past,” he said to Cassie. “Should we see if they’re still there?”

“Yes!” She threw the car door open and launched herself inside, scrambling over Everett’s car seat and into her booster.

After watching Nell switch seats around every time she rode with somebody, Hugh had just showed up one day with two brand-new seats installed.

Nell clipped Everett into his seat while Hugh collapsed the stroller with the ease of an experienced parent and stashed it in back. When they were all finally in their seats, he put a hand on her knee.

“So, how did it go? Really?”

“A good first day, I guess. It was a little bit chaotic, but I think everyone had fun.”

“That’s great.” A squeeze of his hand sent tingles up her spine. “I really admire you. You get a bit of a break from work, and your first thought is to go volunteer with kids who are going through a hard time.”

Nell’s cheeks burned and she looked out the window, at a loss for words.

Volunteering at A Place of Refuge wasn’t some selfless act of charity; she was just floundering, searching for a sense of purpose and community.

She wanted something that would help her feel empowered, less like a charity case… but she doesn’t know how to put any of that into words.

“I just want to give something back to the place that sheltered us when we needed it.”

“Well I think that’s beautiful.”

A call came through Hugh’s phone to the fancy screen in his dashboard, and Amy’s name popped up: his ex-wife.

“Sorry,” he said, popping an earbud in, “that’s Daisy.”

“Go ahead,” Nell encouraged him.

Hugh tapped the green button and grinned. “Hi there, baby girl! Are you excited to come to the Big Island next week? Your room’s all ready for you.”

Nell couldn’t hear Daisy’s voice, but she watched Hugh’s face fall.

“What happened?” A pause. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. School’s almost over.”

Apparently the bullying that his six year old was experiencing at school still hadn’t let up. Nell’s heart ached for both of them. She couldn’t imagine being so far from her babies – but Hugh’s ailing mother was here in Hawai‘i, and so was his business.

He parked at the playground in Pualena, and Cassie flew out of the car as soon as it stopped. Nell spotted Rory on the slide and a couple of other playschool kids on the swings. Everett started to fuss, and she gave Hugh an apologetic look. He was still trying to console his daughter as Nell lifted Everett from his seat and gently closed the door.

Hugh was amazing. Despite all of her trauma and reservations, she could see a real future with him. She wanted to build a future with him. But living so far away from his only child was tearing him up inside.

How could she go all in with a man who might move off island at any moment?

So far, he had stayed in his hometown because his mother’s mind was failing her and she had no one else. But his daughter needed him too, arguably more than the woman who was well looked after at a senior center in Hilo.

Nell loved him, but he wasn’t hers to keep.