24. Mila

TWENTY-FOUR

Be careful who you pretend to be.

You might forget who you are.

~ Unknown

The back door opens. My cell rings immediately. I've pulled out a cardboard box full of surplus bags of rice to give me something solid to lean against. I click the screen to answer Kai's call.

"Hey," Kai's resonant voice is low, whisper-quiet. "I just want you to know it's me. I just came in the back door. Are you still in therapy?"

For a minute I don't know what he's talking about, and then I chuckle. "Yeah. I'm in the pantry. I stopped eating cookies. I only had two. I'm saving the rest."

"For ice cream?"

"Obviously."

He laughs. It comes out in a loud burst and then he subdues the noise. "Stay put. I'm grabbing ice cream and coming in."

I feel like a kid, sneaking around with Kai. Knowing he's here settles me. I'm lighter, cocooned in the safety of our friendship—and him. Just him.

Not even a minute later I hear the opening and shutting of kitchen cabinets, the soft tinkling of spoons on ceramic, and then Kai is standing in the pantry doorway, holding two bowls, smiling down at me like the superhero my son claims he is.

"May I join you?"

"I should hope so. I'm frazzled, but not two-bowls-to-myself frazzled."

"That's good. I'm glad you're at one-bowl status. We can work with that."

Kai walks into the pantry. It's larger than most storage closets, but not huge. And somehow, the space seems to shrink in his presence.

He looks around. "Got room for me there?"

I scoot over, making a space for Kai. He sits down. Our sides touch completely. There's no way for us not to be touching in here, not if we're going to share the comfort of the box at our back.

"This is cozy." He smiles over at me.

Then he dips his spoon into his ice cream and takes a bite. And I watch him. I'm mesmerized, and fully staring at his mouth when his tongue peeks out so he can lick a stray swipe of vanilla off his bottom lip.

"That's so good. I haven't had ice cream in ages."

"You what? Why?"

"I don't know. I don't usually eat sweets. Unless I'm here." He takes another bite.

"So you're saying I'm a bad influence on you?"

I take a bite of my ice cream and moan around the spoon. It's so good—just what I needed after a day like today. Cookies were good, but ice cream is the ticket right now.

"You're the worst." Kai winks back at me. "Now hand me a cookie so you can fully corrupt me."

I giggle. Like a schoolgirl. And then I hand him the whole tupperware so he can take as many as he likes. He takes one.

"Thanks," I say.

"For what?"

"You're kidding, right?"

I look over at Kai, and the way he looks down at me only serves to intensify my awareness of every single place our bodies are touching. My shoulder to his upper arm. Our arms. Our hips. Our legs. Our knees. Our calves. Even the sides of our feet are aligned.

"Thanks for this. For coming out in the middle of the night to bring me ice cream. For being there to prop me up today. For checking in on me."

"Anytime. You know that."

I do. I can't even speak. My emotions well up like a rising tide. Images of Brad meeting Noah for the first time, the way he looked—defeated and desperate—flash in my mind. I might not want Brad back, but I can't help but pity him.

And then there are all the unknowns. Will Noah hate me when he finally learns Brad wasn't just a high school friend? Will my son think I was purposely hiding important facts from him? Will it break our trust? This evening, I asked Noah what he'd do if his dad showed up one day—just to prime the pump. I have to start leading my son toward the truth inch by inch. But every inch feels like a step into something completely unknown and overwhelmingly out of my control.

Then there's Kai. He's the best man I know—the best person I know. And he's not faking the way he cares for me right now. He's always showing up like this for me. He came over here to be alongside me because he knew without me telling him that I needed company tonight. He's the type of man a woman could easily spend the rest of her life with, only by the time I'll possibly be ready for romance, he'll probably have someone else.

That thought hits me hard: Kai with another woman.

I swallow a lump forming in my throat.

Kai nudges me gently. "You want to talk about it?"

"Not really. It's just a lot."

"Yeah, it is. And you handled things with grace, kindness, and wisdom today, Mila. I was so proud of you. Does that sound weird?"

"No. It's sweet, actually."

"I watched you muscle through one of the hardest things I can imagine. And you did it with such care for each person involved. I don't know how you do that."

"Do what?"

Call me greedy, but I need to hear Kai's accolades right now.

"Always thinking of others. Always using a gentle touch when most people would be pulling out the big guns or reacting with intense emotion. They'd be justified. But instead of blowing up or losing it, you're steady and gracious. I could see you trying to smooth the way for Brad, even when it scared you to let him have this opportunity."

"You saw all that?"

"I did. And I was in awe."

I turn and look up at Kai and he doesn't look away.

If this thing between us were real, this would be the moment I'd reach up and kiss him. Oh, would I kiss him. Not on the corner of the mouth either.

We sit like that, quietly studying one another. It could be awkward, but it's not. It's comfortable. And reassuring. I turn back to my bowl of ice cream, and then I lean my head on Kai's shoulder and he lets me. We finish our desserts in this cocoon of ours. It's not a blanket fort, but it may as well be. When we're both scraping the bottoms of the bowls, I stand.

"Try not to run ahead of yourself," Kai says as he pulls himself up off the floor.

"What do you mean?"

"Thinking about what's next and next and next with Brad."

"I've already run that mental path a few times just this evening," I confess.

"I figured. But you're doing great. And as long as you take this one step at a time, one encounter at a time, you'll see the road ahead of you clearly. We're never given the five year plan, but somehow we get to see the next right step if we look for it and only it."

"Wise words."

Kai smiles softly at me before he takes my bowl and walks to the sink to wash it. I want to step up behind him, wrap my arms around his waist and lean my head on his back. To have him turn around and face me, to lean in and kiss me for real. Yes. My emotions are high after today, and my head has been swimming ever since Brad showed up. But I'm not confused about the man currently washing my dishes. Not at all.

He said, Friends. That's what friends do for one another. Mila, I'll always be your friend. And that's good, considering I'm not planning to complicate my life or Noah's with any men. I'm so very tempted to make an exception right now. So. Very. Tempted.

But Kai's friendship is a safe harbor for me in a very turbulent season. I don't want to risk losing or damaging what we have—not even for a kiss I'm quite certain would be the best of my life.

Kai dries the bowls and sets them back in the cupboard. I didn't even try to tell him to leave them. I know he wouldn't have listened to me. He wanted to take care of me, so I let him.

He's about to leave now. I wish he could stay. There's something in his presence that makes all the complications of my life fall into order like a winning round of Tetris.

"Thank you again," I say when we reach the back door.

"Lock the door to your hallway." His face turns serious when he says this.

"I always do."

"Good. I don't want some bagpipe player sneaking in and talking in a brogue to you in the middle of the night."

I laugh so hard I have to clap a hand over my mouth. When I try to speak I laugh again.

"Kai. The man is in his sixties. If he did have bagpipes with him, I would have seen them. He does have a brogue, but I'm pretty sure he's not trying to sneak in and talk to me overnight."

I laugh again.

"So he's not a brutish man in a kilt?"

"No!" I laugh again. "He wore board shorts today and a T-shirt."

"Plaid board shorts?"

"Plain orange shorts with white piping."

"Does he own a coo?"

"Kai!"

"He's really sixty?"

"He is. Sixty-four to be exact."

"Is he George-Clooney sixty or Marbella-Senior-Center sixty?"

"Kai Kapule. Are you jealous?"

"I'm concerned. I don't like the idea of you being alone here with a Scotsman wearing nothing but a kilt and talking to you about his wee little coo."

I lose it. I can't help it. I can barely breathe, I'm laughing so hard. Kai isn't laughing at all. He's looking at me with a dead-serious expression on his face that only makes me laugh more.

"His … wee … his … wee … his wee …" Tears stream down my face. "His wee little … I can't!" I gulp in a breath between laughs. "His wee … little … cooooo! Oh my! I'm dead! Kai!" I'm swiping at tears and catching my breath.

His mouth ticks up into a crooked grin.

"We're fine," I assure him when I finally regain most of my composure. "I promise the Scotsman isn't any threat. Okay?"

"Okay. If you say so. I just don't trust a man in a skirt."

I chuckle. "What about a grass skirt?"

"That's different. It's a tribal thing. Tradition. For hula ceremonies. Besides, you don't see me running around here in one, do you?"

Not that I'd complain, but no. I haven't.

Kai grins at me and I smile back up at him.

"Are you good? Do you need anything else before I go?" He's all serious and protective again.

I hesitate, but then I ask, "Can I have a hug?"

"Of course."

I realize my error too late. I can't hug Kai when I feel this vulnerable and he's been so amazing.

"No. Never mind. It's okay," I backpedal.

He smiles down at me, cocking one eyebrow. "What if I want a hug?"

"Do you?"

"Actually? Yes."

Kai pulls me into his arms and wraps me up in his warm embrace. He's tropics and sunshine, comfort and ease, strength and goodness. And he's holding me like I'm fragile, precious, and … his.

Maybe I'm imagining that last bit, but I close my eyes anyway, leaning in and letting out a long sigh into his chest.

"It's going to be okay," he murmurs into my hair. "And I'll be here for all of it."

I don't have words to answer him, so I just nod lightly and squeeze my arms just a smidge tighter around him.

He squeezes me back. Then he steps away, releasing me.

"Okay. Well. Goodnight, Hot Dog."

I shake my head, but I don't correct him. He's right. I kinda love the nickname.