18. Emma

18

Emma

" B ye Mom!" Kai scrambled out of the back seat as soon as the car rolled to a stop.

"You forgot your lunch!" she called after him, but he was already sprinting towards the playground.

"I'll get it," Nell said, chuckling.

"You've got enough to carry," Emma told her. "I'll grab it."

While Nell unclipped the straps of Everett's car seat and transferred him into a carrier, Emma fished Kai's backpack out of the back seat and walked it over to the playground. Cassie ran past, and Nell caught up a moment later.

"Go on," she said. "You'll be late for class."

"I have time. Anyway, I'm still waiting on Juniper."

"Where is she?"

"Picking lychee. She left at dawn."

"With the boy next door?"

"Yep. That ‘part-time' job of theirs is averaging forty hours a week."

"Lychee season doesn't last long."

"No, it doesn't."

"She's a hard worker. I was holding down a job or two at her age, but I was also getting into all sorts of trouble. Jun's got a good head on her shoulders. You must be proud."

"She's a good kid," Emma agreed. "Big plans, big dreams. She's smart enough to make them happen, too."

Cody pulled into the parking lot in his old gray Honda. The thing was at least a decade older than he was, but it hadn't given him any trouble so far. Juniper popped up out of the passenger seat and waved.

"Gotta go," Emma said to Nell. She looked for Kai to say goodbye, but he was immersed in a game of tag and utterly oblivious to her presence. "Will you make sure he grabs his bag?"

"Of course."

"Okay, see you later." She strode back across the damp grass, marveling at the emerald green that stretched from the playground to the parking lot. In California, the ground was brown and gray and gold. She wasn't sure she would ever get used to the vibrant hues of Hawaii, and that was fine by her. It would be a shame to take the brilliance of the island for granted.

"Sorry I'm late," Juniper said when she was closer.

"It's okay," Emma replied. "We have time."

She held up a plastic bag bulging with lychee. "I brought breakfast!"

"Enough time to eat those before we run off." Emma leaned against the hood of her car and pulled open one of the red globes, releasing an aroma of sugar and rosewater. She loved the sweet, floral taste of lychee. Even eating it daily now that Juniper was working for Nate, it was a treat she would never get tired of.

After they had eaten the whole bag of lychee and rinsed their hands with an oversized water bottle she kept in the car, they hurried down the highway to their final permaculture class.

All the basics of growing food in Hawai'i had been covered, from composting scraps to pruning fruit trees. They had learned about nitrogen-fixing plants, pest management, beneficial ground covers, and more. Today was a slight departure from that, but no less important: it was all about cooking and preserving local foods.

Emma had loved this deep dive into permaculture, and she was particularly grateful for the common ground it provided for her and her niece. They had bonded over the course of the weekly classes, and they were closer now than they had ever been.

Even so, she was relieved that the classes would be over soon. The spark of attraction between Emma and Keith, the teacher who ran the permaculture course, was a surprise that she had been ill prepared to deal with so soon after the death of her husband.

To make things worse, the passing months hadn't dulled his charm. If anything, the man's patience and intelligence had increased the initial pull that Emma had felt.

She was nowhere near ready to date again – she might never be ready to date again – and the confused feelings that the whole situation left her with were nothing but a distraction from the life that she was working to build for herself and her son.

Her son. Emma's heart contracted in her chest. No doubt that bringing another man into their lives would be traumatic for a seven-year-old boy who still spoke of his late father in the present tense more often than not.

Emma was so caught up in her thoughts that she blinked with surprise to find herself pulling into the dirt lot at the edge of the permaculture property. She had driven there on autopilot, completely ignoring her niece. Apparently Juniper hadn't noticed. The teenager was lost in her own thoughts, a dreamy expression on her face.

"Ready?" Emma asked.

Juniper startled and flashed her aunt a guilty smile. "Born ready."

The class met at the covered outdoor kitchen that stood at the center of the Pualena Permaculture food forest. There were all sorts of cooking and canning supplies set out on the tables that had never been there before, along with piles of locally grown food, and Emma's stomach growled in anticipation. Each of the classes had combined hard labor with the day's lecture. Today they would literally taste the fruits of their labors.

"Looks like we're all here, or near enough," Keith said when they were past the class's scheduled start time. "Thank you everyone for coming. Each and every one of you is providing a tremendous service to the island and to the world by growing food with regenerative, sustainable practices. It's been my honor to teach you. Today, we feast!"

The last bit was met by a smattering of laughter and applause, and Keith dove into divvying them up for prep work. When all manner of foods were cut and cooking, he brought them together again.

"Now I'm going to set up stations, and I would love for anyone familiar with these methods to help the beginners. Has anyone here canned before?"

Emma looked around at the other students. No one raised their hand – not terribly surprising, given that they were on an island where food grew year round. Bounty was shared with neighbors more often than it was preserved for the future. Still, it was a valuable skill.

Hesitantly, she lifted her hand into the air.

Keith's bright blue eyes found hers, and he grinned. "Emma! Will you lead our canning station?"

A protest rose in her throat, but she had essentially volunteered already.

It had been a long time since she'd canned anything, but she was reasonably certain that she still remembered how it was done. Her mother still made apple butter every year as a Christmas gift, and Emma had helped her with that at least a dozen times. Then there had been Toni's early market days, before she pivoted to specialize in herbs and flours, when they had canned piles of squash and beans and other produce that she hadn't been able to sell.

She bit her lip and nodded.

"Wonderful! And Juniper, I think you mentioned prior experience with drying herbs?" Keith diverted Jun to another table, and Emma was left facing a crowd of people interested in learning how to can.

She had come to know each of them – to some extent or another – over the course of their class, but suddenly finding herself at the front was intimidating all the same. She had never taught adults before… but really, could they be any more difficult than a room full of five year olds?

"Well then." She rolled up the sleeves of the oversized plaid shirt – one of Adam's – that she wore as a sweater. "Let's see what we have to work with."

She looked over the tables and cataloged them out loud, speaking to her classmates.

"This big pot here will work for water bath canning. That's mostly just used for preserves made with vinegar, like pickles, or sugar, like the guava jam that's cooling over here. For meat or broth, you'll want to use a pressure canner."

"I'd rather use a freezer," a man grumbled.

"Or just a freezer with backup generator, right. But pressure canning is more cost effective, and it works for just about anything. Tuna, squash, whatever you've got.

"This brand of pot here doesn't have a gasket, it's just metal on metal. My mom has the same one. It actually belonged to my grandma. These things last forever.

"For jars, older ones like this collection here are best. I've seen tons of them at the transfer stations. You can also buy a big case from a farm store, but the newer jars tend to be thinner. The last time my mom tried to use cheap new jars to can a batch of apple butter, half of the jars broke in the canner. Now she only uses older jars. Or, failing that, the big name brands are usually a safe bet."

"Do you have to use a new lid every time?" one of the women asked.

"That's best practice," Emma told her. "These thin lids aren't designed to be used more than once. But between you and me, my grandma used hers a hundred times over. It might be a matter of quality, though, the ones she bought decades ago versus what you can get now."

"They do sell reusable lids," another woman said.

"You're right, they do. I haven't tried them myself, and I don't suppose you'll get that popping sound that the thin lids give you when they're ready, but they might be a good investment."

With the help of her classmates-turned-students, Emma canned dozens of jars of guava jam. They also made pickled chayote with li hing mui powder. When those were done, they packed a round of jars with long beans and preserved those with the pressure canner.

Students drifted between tables, and Emma answered questions while Juniper walked her elders through the process of drying herbs. The seventeen year old was also telling their classmates about other preservation methods that might be better suited to the tropics, like vinegars and tinctures.

The class went long, and then longer still as everyone chatted and ate the foods they had made that day. Finally people began to trickle out, each one carrying a cardboard box full of jars and seeds and starts.

Emma stayed on to oversee the last batch of jars that had gone into the pressure canner. She texted Nell to tell her that she would be a few minutes late.

No worries, Nell shot back. The kids are having a blast with the chalk paint we made today.

"Hi." Keith's voice sounded nearby, and she looked up from her phone with a start. "Thank you for all of your help. You obviously have a lot more experience with canning than I do."

Emma's cheeks burned. "I wasn't planning on teaching a class today."

"Well, I'm grateful that you were such a good sport. I think everyone learned a lot."

She glanced this way and that, uncomfortable with the full focus of his summer-blue eyes. A few feet away at the herb station, Juniper was fiddling with bundles of moringa and pretending not to listen.

"I'll miss seeing you every week," Keith said.

She glanced back at him, unsure of whether he meant her in particular or his students in general.

"I like teaching, but I'll be grateful to have some free time again. I haven't been able to get out and forage in months. I'm planning to hike out this weekend for ferns and mushrooms. I'd love some company."

"Me?" she asked stupidly.

Keith just smiled, as if her awkwardness were charming. "You."

"Sure," she said, surprising yourself.

"Great." He smiled even wider. "It's a date."

Emma's heart sped with panic as he turned and walked away. She looked over at Juniper, who was staring at her with one hand clamped over her mouth, eyes dancing with laughter.

In a stage whisper she asked, "What did I just do?"

"You just got yourself a date with the teacher," Juniper whispered back, dancing over to her. "Keith and Emma, sitting in a tree–"

"Stop that," she hissed.

"You're going on a date!" Jun whispered, delighted for her.

Emma stared at the back of Keith's t-shirt as he disappeared into the food forest.

"I guess I am."