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Chapter Eleven

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“SO TELL ME AGAIN.” I frowned at Donnie. “Why are we buying offal and bones now? Has your son joined a cult?”

Donnie and I were in Natural High Organic Foods, stocking up in anticipation of Davison Gonsalves’ arrival in Mahina later in the day. I normally enjoyed shopping at Natural High, mostly for the gourmet snacks rather than for any particular health benefits. Tamari almonds, California rolls, blueberry smoothies, that sort of thing. Donnie claimed he could always tell when I’d been shopping there because my clothes would reek of dried ginseng.

“Not quite a cult.” Donnie assessed the offerings. “He’s on a big health kick. Some of the guys in his class got him into this whole foods thing. He says he’s gotten good results so far at the gym.”

“I always wondered who bought this expensive almond flour.” I watched Donnie place a small and astonishingly pricey bag of it into the hand basket. Natural High had green baskets, presumably because green plastic looked more environmentally responsible than other colors of plastic.

“I always had this image of college students living on instant noodles and bad coffee,” Donnie said.

“They’re supposed to.”

Davison had emailed his shopping list to Donnie early in the morning, right before he got on the plane. I thought it was rude and entitled (also perfectly in character for Davison). When you’re a guest at someone’s house, it seemed to me, you eat what they put in front of you, and you say thank you.

And Davison’s new diet plan was expensive. Organic vegetables, butter and beef from grass-fed cows, and cold-pressed olive oil were on the menu. Cheap staples like rice, canned meat, and instant noodles were out. You couldn’t put together a more costly shopping list if you tried.

As luck would have it, Crystal Phoenix from the yoga studio was working at Natural High that day. She made a beeline for us—for Donnie, really.

“Well hi Molly,” Crystal gushed, gazing into Donnie’s eyes. Her golden hair was pulled back and pinned into a messy bun, exposing a graceful jawline. “And of course, I remember your husband. Donnie, it’s so nice to see you again.” She took Donnie’s hand and held it, instead of letting go, as one would do with a normal handshake.

“It looks like Davison is coming back to Mahina for a visit,” I said.

“We’re doing some grocery shopping for him,” Donnie added.

“You should bring him by the studio for a free yoga lesson. Molly, did I give you my card?”

“Yes, you did.” I spoke to Crystal’s profile since she was still gazing at Donnie. “So it seems he’s developed some very specific dietary requirements.”

Donnie gently pulled his hand free from Crystal’s grasp, set the basket down on the edge of the produce table, and read from the shopping list. “Coconut oil, olive oil, and butter are fine, he says. Yellow oils are off limits.”

“Isn’t butter yellow?” I asked.

“No, I know what he means. No industrial oils.”

Donnie caught my expression. “It’s only for a few days, Molly.”

“I didn’t say anything. I’m just looking at the avocados here.”

I picked up an oversized green specimen from the bin and dropped it into our basket.

“No meat?” Crystal inquired hopefully.

“Meat is on the list,” Donnie said, “but it has to be pastured or grass fed. Eggs need to be free range, preferably local, and supplemented with Omega-3. Cheese and other low-glycemic dairy products are acceptable as long as the milk comes from A2 cows.”

“And it has to be served on a satin pillow stuffed with unicorn feathers,” I added.

“Your son is taking good care of his body.” Crystal aimed her cool green eyes at Donnie. “What about you, Donnie? Are you taking care of yourself?”

“Uh,” Donnie said.

“I can tell you have a powerful fitness practice.” Her eyes wandered up and down his torso. “I’m a certified personal trainer, too. I’d love to—”

“He doesn’t need a fitness practice,” I said. “He gets plenty of physical activity already. From working all day at the restaurant, I mean. Donnie, I know you don’t have time for any extracurricular activities.”

Donnie patted my hand, which I realized I had placed on his bicep. Okay, maybe I was acting a little possessive. Who would blame me?

“You’re probably tense with such an intense work schedule,” Crystal murmured. “I do massage, too, first session is free.”

“Wow, Crystal, you are really multitalented.” It didn’t escape my notice that she hadn’t offered me a massage. “So Donnie, we should probably get this shopping done sometime before the sun cools.”

Donnie smiled a little, as if something was funny about the situation, although if there was, I sure couldn’t see it.

“So you think Davison’s making a good choice here?” he asked.

“Your son is being very wise,” Crystal said. “Let food be thy medicine.”

Oh, come on, I thought. I was as pro-healthy-eating as the next person (actually no, I wasn’t), but my mother was a medical doctor, and I’d heard enough stories about people who thought they could throw away their medication as soon as they were feeling a little better.

“What about letting medicine be your medicine?” I asked. “I mean, it’s not like the secret cure for every disease on earth is hidden in, what?”

I peeked at the list in Donnie’s hand.

“...fish oil and fermented soybeans?”

“Don’t buy into the propaganda, Molly. You can’t believe everything Monsanto tells you. Anything you get from the pharmaceutical industry has a better equivalent in nature.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Why was I even engaging her?

“I’ll show you an example.” Crystal led us over to a computer terminal in the back of the store and pulled up a website with photographs of a plant that looked like spearmint with yellow flowers.

“It acts directly on the hormonal system,” Crystal explained. “It can be used to treat bipolar disorder, and it’s very energizing. Molly, this might even help you.”

“I’m fine. Really. But thank you for the information. So, Donnie, we should get moving if we’re going to meet the plane on time.”

Davison’s plane actually wasn’t due for another four or five hours, but I wanted to wrap it up and get out of there.

“That’s the girl who wanted to meet Davison?” Donnie asked once we were out on the sidewalk in front of Natural High. Each of us held a reusable shopping bag full of pastured, organic, free range, Omega-3-rich comestibles that pound for pound cost about as much as cocaine.

“She’s the one. Although it seems pretty obvious to me she’ll settle for père in the event that fils isn’t available. Oh good, the rain’s stopped.”

“Who’s available?” Donnie asked. “Did you say something about a pear?”

“Crystal was flirting with you.”

“Do you really think she was—”

“Oh, come on. She was. At least she has good taste. Where did I park again?”

Across the street from the termite-eaten row of clapboard storefronts, the ocean sparkled. Small waves splashed playfully onto the black lava rock shore.

“Up there. Right around the corner. Remember?”

“Right.”

Donnie took my grocery bag. I dug into my purse for my keys as we walked.

“She’s a little out there,” Donnie said.

“A little.” I nodded.

I could tell Donnie was thinking something over. We walked quietly until we reached the Thunderbird.

“Ouch.” I ran a finger over the gleaming paint. I need to go to the carwash. You can see every crumb of dirt in the sun.”

“The situation with Sherry’s been really hard on Davison,” Donnie said. “I don’t think it’s healthy.”

“I thought Sherry got back together with one of her ex-husbands.”

“That’s just it,” Donnie said. “I don’t think Davison’s over her.”

Donnie’s ex-wife Sherry had walked out on Davison’s eighth birthday. Davison and his former stepmother had reconnected many years later, neither one aware of the other’s identity. By the time things were sorted out, it was too late. (As Sherry had put it, “Whaddaya want me to do? He’s not a light bulb. I can’t unscrew him.”)

“Davison is an adult,” I said. “We shouldn’t mix in.”

“I’m not saying we should mix in. But we can encourage him to meet some other people while he’s here. Like this girl at the health food store. What was her name? Chrysalis?”

“Crystal.” I slid the key into the lock. The trunk lid bounced up, revealing a spacious storage area, empty except for the spare tire propped up in the center. You really could fit a body or three into these old trunks. “Crystal Phoenix.”

Donnie placed the grocery bags into the trunk, and I pushed the lid down, using most of my upper body strength to get it to latch.

“Phoenix?” Donnie gave me a skeptical look. “What kind of name is that?”

“A made-up one, I’m sure.”

“Well, it’s a little strange. But on the positive side, she’s employed.”

“That’s the spirit. Aim high.” I was already walking up to the driver’s seat, and I don’t think Donnie heard me.