He grinned. “Told you. I’ll make a real coffee drinker of you yet.”
She wished that meant he’d be around to affect her that way. Averting her gaze, she sipped at her drink.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Pulling into yourself. Shutting me out when I say anything about being part of your life.”
But what part? That was the trouble. She wanted more from him than he would give, she was sure of it. Before she could frame an answer, the doorbell rang. Glancing through the window, she saw the mailman standing on the walk. She scooted Wilson off her lap, and he growled in protest. She gave him a reassuring pat and went to the door. “Hi, Paul.”
“Got a registered letter for you, Annie.” The mailman handed her a green card to sign.
She scribbled her name, took the letter, and waved good-bye to Paul. The return address filled her with dread. Aloha Bank. She stared at it in her hand, wanting to put off the inevitable as long as she could.
“You okay?” Mano stood in the entry to the living room.
“Fine.” She ripped the letter open. Scanning the letter, she inhaled.
“Bad news?”
“Yeah.” She rubbed her forehead. She might as well tell him. The whole town would know soon enough that she had failed to help her father keep the land that had been in their family for over fifty years. “The bank is foreclosing.”
He took the letter from her fingers and glanced at it. “You still have thirty days to pay the back payments and penalties.”
“The penalties are almost as much as we owe.”
“Highway robbery.” Mano sounded disgusted.
“I have to figure out a way to pay it. We can’t wait and let the casino pick it up for peanuts after the bank forecloses.”
“I could help you.”
Annie was touched, but she didn’t want him to see it. “I can’t let you do that.”
Mano handed the letter back to her. “Have you talked to your father about it?”
“He’s always liked me to handle the finances.” She hated handling the money, but she’d never been able to tell her father. If she’d only been honest about how bad she was with finances, they wouldn’t be in this fix.
“This isn’t your fault, Annie. Your father is the man of the family. It was his responsibility, and he should be involved in figuring out the answer. He wanted the money for his research. Maybe he could pay it back with grant money.”
“Maybe.” Annie went down the hall to the living room. She knew better than to expect any help from her father. He would be sure to lay the blame firmly at her feet.
Mano grabbed the jumper cables out of the garage; then he and Annie returned to her Nissan. He got it started, then followed her home to make sure she made it safely. As he drove, he thought of what he could do to help her. He couldn’t pay the mortgage off, but he could at least get it caught up.
When she pulled into the driveway, he stuck his hand out the window and waved, then drove away. Glancing at the clock on the dash, he realized his mother should have gotten back to Kaua’i by now. He pulled out his cell phone.
“Hey, T?t? Kane, how are you feeling?” he asked when his grandfather answered the phone.
“Mano, I was just talking about you. Your mother is here too.”
“Checking up on you, huh? You’d better listen to her.”
“Oh, she’s making me toe the line.”
“Bane said you’d been a little under the weather. Have you been to the doctor?”
“I just got back. I’m fit as a fiddle. It was just the beginning of an ulcer. Your mother has me on apple-cider vinegar morning and evening, and some enzymes. I’m already feeling better.”
“Great! Listen, could you do me a favor? You or Makuahine?”
“Your mother is riding herd over me pretty hard, so maybe you’d better let her do whatever you need.”
“Sure, put her on.”
He heard the sound of fumbling and his grandfather calling loudly. Mano’s mother came on. “Missing me already, Mano?” Her voice was teasing.
“Always. Listen, I need to have some money transferred from my savings to checking. My bankbook is in the safe in my old bedroom. Could you transfer five thousand dollars for me?”
“Sure, son. But is everything okay? Do you have enough? I can give you whatever you need.”
His mother had been trying to make it up to the three kids for her abandonment when they were children. She didn’t seem to understand that they’d forgiven her and still loved her.
“I’ve got enough.”
The worry in her voice softened. “I’m being a mother hen again, aren’t I? Sorry.”
“It’s okay. So, when can you run over to the bank for me? I really need access to it right away.”
“I can do it now while your grandfather takes a nap.”