Every Serengeti Sunrise

“These, heavy? They feel empty,” Ryan told Maddie, ignoring Philip’s complaint.

“Here, Philip. Can you take this for me? My shoulder is aching.”

She slipped her laptop case off of her shoulder and held it out. She could have handled carrying it, but having your ego bruised at his age wasn’t fun. Philip took the bag from her and followed Ryan through the crowd.

“Let’s go before those boys challenge each other to a duel,” Hope said. “Jamal is waiting with the car.”

“How’s Chad?” Maddie asked as she and Hope followed the boys out.

“We heard from him last week. He’s okay. Sounded tired, but okay.” Hope put her arm around Maddie as they walked. “I worry. They have him in Afghanistan right now. I know your father is proud that his oldest son followed in his footsteps and joined the marines, but he worries, too. I’m more willing to say so out loud.”

“When will he get to visit?”

“Not for months. And soon, Ryan will be off to college and I’ll only have Philip around.”

“But you’re busy seeing patients. You won’t feel the empty nest.”

“A mother always feels it when her nest is empty. I feel your absence, too, my dear.” She gave Maddie a squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re here. Your father will be home by the time we get there. He was called out for work.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Good. He’s excited that you’ll be here awhile.”

A subtle pang of guilt made her stomach twinge. Here she was, nervous about staying in her parents’ house for so long, while her dad was excited about it. She smiled rather than lying in agreement. Maddie hated lying.

“I expect I’ll be pretty busy this trip. I’m supposed to stop by the law office tomorrow. I have the address. If Jamal is busy, I can always call a taxi.”

“Nonsense. Jamal already plans to help you out as needed. I’d rather you not drive here. It has been too long since you last did.”

Hope had never liked driving in Nairobi. It was nothing like driving in America and she’d always had Jamal take them to school or anywhere else they needed to go. Which wasn’t to say that Maddie hadn’t done it. Once, at sixteen, she’d taken the family car without permission. It hadn’t ended well and Jamal had taken the blame for the fender bender, not wanting her to get in trouble. He’d also told her parents that he’d forgotten the time and had, thus, picked up her brothers from school late, when in fact, he’d found the car missing. Halfway through that night, Maddie had woken her parents up and confessed. The guilt alone had been keeping her awake. Truth and justice. Probably why she’d ended up in law.

Jamal stood waiting by the same old black sedan he’d been driving for years. His salt-and-pepper hair was more salt than the last time she’d seen him, but he looked as tall, dark and handsome as ever. He and Delila were like having extra grandparents around. His face creased with a wide grin.

“Maddie. You’ve brightened the skies over Kenya already.”

Maddie gave him a big hug, then stood back as the guys loaded her bags into the car.

“I missed you, Jamal. How’s Delila?”

“She can’t wait to see you, but you’d think there were ten of you coming. She’s cooking for an army. From the looks of you, you could use some home-cooked meals.”

“Well, you know. I figure why bother eating if Delila hasn’t cooked it,” Maddie teased.

“I thought all that food was because we’re having company,” Philip said.

Ryan elbowed him and Hope scrunched her face.

“That was supposed to be a surprise,” Ryan said.

“No one told me it—”

“It’s all right, Philip. I forgot to remind you,” Hope said.

“He forgets everything. No wonder you’re not allowed to get a pet. Mom and Dad would have to remind you to feed it,” Ryan said.

“That’s not true.” Philip scowled at his brother as they climbed into the car.

“Remember what happened to Mad’s fish when she left for college?”

So that was how Barracuda died? Philip’s face turned red.

“That was years ago. I was like...five...and you were supposed to help feed it.”

“Boys,” Hope warned. This was going to be a long ride.

“Who’s coming over?” Maddie asked, trying to help break up the argument. Her first thought was Simba and Chuki. Her uncle Simba was Hope’s brother. His actual name was Dr. David Alwanga, but Hope had always called him Simba, so when Maddie and her brothers moved to Kenya, they’d insisted on calling him Uncle Simba, too. It was so much more fun. “Dr. Alwanga” was a well-known scientist at the university and a good friend and colleague of Maddie’s maternal uncle Jack, Pippa’s father. Chuki, Hope’s childhood friend and the last person anyone would have thought Dr. Alwanga would fall for, had ended up marrying him. It made sense that they’d stop by the house with their kids, since they lived in Nairobi.

“Simba and Chuki,” Hope said. No surprise there.

“Pippa’s coming up, too,” Ryan said. He shrugged at Philip. “I figured I’d say so before you did.”

“Go put your head in a—”

“Hey, you two. Stop it now.” Hope gave them a look no kid would have challenged. Then again, these were Maddie’s brothers. “That was your surprise. Pippa and your uncle Jack are already at the house waiting to see you.”

Maddie grinned.

She couldn’t wait to see Pippa. They had so much catching up to do. Plus, in all honesty, with everyone around, her dad would be less likely to ask about the case she was working on. At least for tonight.

As they departed, she looked out the window at the familiar buildings and scenery. The conversation in the car faded to the back of her mind. A horn blared at a man weaving a motorcycle-like boda boda through the traffic while transporting a daring passenger. No helmets for protection. A man stood at a small kiosk near the intersection up ahead selling freshly squeezed juice, while his goat ate peels on the ground next to him. A brand-new, rather stunning hotel, with beautifully manicured gardens at its entrance, stood across the street from the man and goat. The old and new. The familiar and unfamiliar.

The past, present and future always seemed to collide when Maddie came here. A trick of the mind. A side effect of memories. She was tired. It had to be why she suddenly felt down. She rubbed absentmindedly at her stomach and barely heard someone say something about her being hungry. She wasn’t, but she couldn’t move her lips to explain. Her lids felt heavy and the hard glass of the window touched her temple as the world outside disappeared. She missed having good friends around. She wanted more than anything to see her cousin Pippa, but truth be told, she wished Haki was going to be there tonight, too.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_5e0259d9-780e-514b-ade0-795069a6e81a)

MADDIE SET HER hair clip next to her keepsake box and gave her scalp a quick rub. The wooden box carved with elephants had been a gift from her uncle Jack and auntie Anna. Hope had delivered it to Maddie when she’d visited College Town, Pennsylvania, for the first time, back when Maddie was ten. She pushed her hair over her shoulders and ran her fingertips along the carvings and the lid’s seam. She wouldn’t open it. Not right now, at least.

“Why isn’t this cute guy on your bed in Philly?” Pippa plopped onto Maddie’s bed and picked up the plush monkey—a lemur, to be specific—that had been her favorite doll when she was a kid. It had been a gift Pippa had given her shortly after they’d first met. Most kids under the age of five wouldn’t have given up a new toy, but Pippa wasn’t like most, not then and not now, and the moment she’d given Maddie that monkey, their friendship had been sealed.

“I can’t take everything back with me.” You could if you wanted to. She turned away from her dresser and collapsed onto the bed next to Pippa. “My place is small and every time I visit and pack to go back, I run out of room in my suitcase.”

“You could mail yourself a box, you know.” Pippa made the monkey’s head nod and Maddie let a small laugh escape. What was it about hanging out with her that made Maddie feel like a kid again? Like she didn’t always have to be serious or prove herself. There had been a point in her childhood, after her mother died, when she’d become painfully serious, but once Hope had entered their lives, Maddie had changed and promised herself she’d never go back to feeling that way again. What had happened? Growing up? She snatched the little lemur from Pippa.

“You want me to stick this poor guy in a box? You’re so mean.”

“I know. I’m terrible. Besides, I kind of like that you haven’t totally vacated the place. It made it a lot more comfortable when I stayed here during university, for one thing. And it always felt reassuring. I could count on you coming back to visit. Not necessarily because you missed your family and friends, but because of this guy, of course.” Pippa smirked at her. It had been a while since she’d seen her, but Maddie hadn’t realized it actually bothered Pippa.

She reached over and twirled one of Pippa’s corkscrew locks around her finger and gave it a tug.