Free Somewhere on Maui (an Accidental Matchmaker Novel) by Toby Neal

come back for more.” Dr. Suzuki followed him out, waved goodbye from the door.
    “Coach Suzuki,” he muttered as he turned the truck on. “Lightning never strikes twice, huh? I wonder if you’re right.”

Chapter 8
     
    Zoe noticed the patter of rain on the roof the next morning. She’d ended yesterday as a good writing day, shaking off the earlier angst after a nap—but this morning she’d hoped to get an exercise walk in. Well, it wasn’t like it was cold and she’d melt, she thought, swinging her legs out of bed. Maui on a bad weather day was still warmer than California on a sunny one.
    She put the coffee on and dressed in her bikini under a pair of nylon athletic pants, a tank top, and a parka shell. Sylvester, seeing evidence of an oncoming walk, danced a little doggy jig by the back door.
    Zoe filled her travel mug with coffee, picked up her trash bag for the beach, and trotted through the splashing drops to her Beetle. She drove them to nearby Baldwin Beach, and the great swath of golden sand was deserted in the rain.
    She let Sylvester off his leash and picked her pace up to a barefoot trot, feeling her spirits lift as she and the dog ran beside the ocean, dimpled with rain. The ironwood trees, usually shushing with movement, dripped silently, and off in the distance violet layers of cloud wreathed the clefts and valleys of the lush green West Maui Mountains with mystery. The ocean surged and retreated, translucent and turquoise, expending itself again and again on the sand in a timeless rhythm that matched her heartbeat.  
    The patter of the drops on her nylon parka, the happy bounding of her dog, and the wide-open glory of the beach combined to create a moment of perfect bliss. Zoe laughed out loud and ran as fast as she could for as far as she could, and when she walked back, she felt more peaceful than she had in years.
    They returned to the car. Tired, happy, and sopping wet, Zoe still felt an afterglow of the exercise high or whatever it had been. As they drove out of the park, she reached for a water bottle that had rolled off the seat—and ran the Beetle into the truck in front of her.
     
     
    Adam lay in bed, feeling heaviness in his mood as he awoke. He heard the drumming of rain on the tin roof and stared at the old-fashioned lath-and-plaster, the dim blue light of morning casting cool shadow on the ceiling.
    Rain. Great.
    His mind ticked over all the tools and supplies on the job site; ever mindful of the possibility of rain, he always made sure any perishable materials were covered and all tools were locked up in the steel storage shed, so the site should be okay.
    After his meeting with Coach Suzuki, the combination of detail work, dealing with suppliers, and putting in his own hours pounding nails made the rest of the day fly by. At home last night, Mama had still seemed down and low energy, so he’d joined her watching TV and over reruns of That ’70s Show , she’d seemed to perk up. Still, he hadn’t liked her color and how slowly she’d walked back to bed.
    Now, with it raining, he’d be able to see about taking her in to the doctor to get checked out. She’d said last night that she felt a little sick to her stomach and dizzy, “probably something I ate.”
    He considered getting up, glancing over at the clock. Six thirty a.m. already. He was usually up at six a.m.—but he just didn’t want to get out of bed.
    There wasn’t one thing he could think of right now that brought any sense of anticipation. What his life had become was such a far cry from the dreams he’d had at college—working in his own business, alongside his father’s company. Designing environmentally sustainable buildings, where people grew their food and cleaned their air through careful venting and greenhouses, and inner spaces were lit with sunlight. Buildings that gave back as much as they took from nature.
    He folded his arms under his head and stared at the ceiling, listening to the rain. Ever