Chapter 6 Anne
Anne
“A baby?” Harper shrieked.
The family was in an uproar of shock and congratulations following Akemi’s big announcement. She had gotten them all to move into the living room and sit down, and then she’d told them that she was nearly halfway through her pregnancy.
“We’ve never had a baby before!” Hayden said.
Dawn’s expression softened, and she almost smiled. Relief washed through Anne at the sight of emotion on her mother’s face. For a moment, she looked like herself again.
“This house has seen hundreds of babies,” she told her granddaughters.
“Like a million years ago,” Harper protested.
“We didn’t meet them,” said Hayden, “so it doesn’t count!”
“It most certainly does count,” Dawn said quietly.
“What are you going to name her?” Harper shouted.
Akemi laughed. “I don’t know yet.”
She looked so small, sitting on the oversized sofa with her feet tucked up under her long skirt. Her face was completely unlined, and her sleek black hair was cut at an edgy angle.
Between her youthful face and the fact that she was a full head shorter than her sisters, it was easy to get stuck thinking of her as the baby of the family… even now that she was in her late thirties and expecting a baby of her own.
“Is it a boy or a girl?” Pete asked.
“I don’t know that either.”
“I vote boy,” he said, and Harper booed. “This family has plenty of girls already!”
“So, wait,” Oakley said, wide-eyed. “Are you moving home?”
Akemi’s expression went flat, like she was steeling herself against the assault of questions that she’d known were coming.
Pete felt the temperature shift and nudged Hayden.
“Do you want to see the legos I brought?”
“Uh, sure.” She glanced around the room, then pulled at her sister’s hand.
The younger three cousins tip-toed upstairs. Claire pulled a pillow into her lap, rooting down into a spot with the grownups. Anne let her be.
“Where are you going to live?” Oakley pressed.
“I’ll come home for a while, close to my due date.”
“And then what?”
“Stop giving her the third degree,” Halia said.
“Who’s the dad?” Claire cut in. Anne shot her a look and she crossed her arms, folding into a pout.
“Lorenzo,” Akemi answered, glancing at Dawn.
She looked up in surprise, and even that small show of life was gratifying.
“The Italian who rented a room here?” she asked.
“That’s the one,” Akemi confirmed.
“He’s so handsome!”
Akemi’s expression softened into a slight grin.
“You’re not moving to Italy?” Oakley said.
“I’m not moving anywhere,” Akemi answered.
“So you’re staying here?”
“That’s not what I meant.” She put two hands up, closed her eyes, and took a breath. The room quieted. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes again and said, “I’m not going to abandon my career just because I have a kid.”
Oakley’s eyes narrowed, but she pressed her lips together and held her tongue.
“Is Lorenzo moving here?” Dawn asked hopefully.
“His whole family is there–” Akemi started, but their mother cut her off.
“His daughter is here. The King girl. And now his second baby.”
“Okay, so most of his family is there. His dad isn’t well, and his work is there.”
“What are you going to do?”
“We’re going to figure it out.” She held up her hands again. “I’ll go there, he’ll come here. I only told him a few days ago. He wants to be involved, but we’re still just… figuring this out as we go.”
“And you’re just going to… keep traveling?” Oakley’s voice was incredulous.
“Plenty of people travel with babies!” Akemi flared.
“Sure, but… all the time? Alone?”
“I’ve been traveling for three days straight,” Akemi grumbled. “I don’t have the energy for this right now.”
“Exactly! Now imagine that you have a wailing baby to take care of all night long.”
Akemi’s shoulders slumped. “I’m going to bed.”
“Claire’s stuff is in your room,” Anne said apologetically. “We didn’t know that you were coming home.”
“I can move,” Claire offered.
“No, it’s fine.” Akemi rubbed her eyes, looking exhausted. “Is anybody in the green room?”
“No. It’s pretty musty, though…”
“It’s fine. I’ll open a window.”
“Are you sure?”
“Good night,” Akemi said with finality. Anne’s heart hurt as she watched her baby sister trudge up the stairs. Even Claire wasn’t unaffected.
“Auntie, really,” she said, following her, “I haven’t even unpacked yet. You can have your room. I’ll sleep somewhere else.”
When they were gone, Halia leveled a long look at Oakley.
“What?” she hissed.
“Did you have to be such a downer?” Anne asked.
“If I’m being a downer,” Oakley whispered, “it’s only because somebody needs to bring that girl down to earth!”
“That ‘girl’ is nearly forty,” Halia said.
“It’s time she started acting like it!” Oakley sighed and ran a hand over her eyes. “She has no idea what she’s in for. You just can’t know until you’re in it. No woman is grown until she’s a mother, not really.”
“Right.” Halia rolled her eyes. “That’s why I’m so girlish and carefree.”
Oakley winced. “I didn’t mean– Halia, you mother everybody. You know I didn’t mean you. Man, I’m really sticking my foot in it tonight, huh?”
“Now there’s a change,” Halia said, but her smile was warm.
“But Akemi is girlish. She never really grew up. Back me up here, Annie.”
Anne bit her lip and wrinkled her nose.
“Seriously?” Oakley held her hands out in protest.
“You underestimate her,” Anne said. “She’s seen more of the world than any of us. Akemi travels all over, and she does it all by herself. She’s not a kid.”
“She is if she thinks that life will be as simple as just strapping a baby to her chest and charging forward like nothing’s changed!”
“Even if that’s true,” Halia said quietly, “she’s a lot less likely to come home and accept help when things get hard if she expects to be buried in ‘I told you so’s.”
“Okay, fair.” Oakley slumped back on the couch. She glanced at the clock, sighed, and pushed herself up. “I should get the girls home.”
“You could sleep here tonight,” Anne said, but Oakley shook her head.
“Nah. I’d have to wake them up before dawn to get them to soccer on time.”
“Okay.” She stood and pulled her sister in for a hug. “My car will be here in a couple of weeks. I can drive up to Waimea then.”
“I’ll see you sooner than that. How about I come scoop you up for a hike in a few days? I’ll check my schedule and text you a time.”
“Sounds good.”
Oakley went to find her girls, and Anne fell back onto the sofa next to Halia.
Her big sister put an arm around her, and she leaned in.
“How about you?” Halia asked.
“How about me?” Anne echoed.
“What’s your plan?”
“It’s kind of you to assume that I have one.”
“What are you going to do for work?” Halia’s voice was kind but insistent.
“Pualena’s not exactly bursting with job opportunities.” Anne sat up and scooted away so that she could see Halia’s face. “We have to make our own.”
“And what are you making, kaikaina?”
“I want to rent out some rooms.”
Halia’s eyebrows shot up. “Here?”
“Of course here,” Anne said, exasperated. Where else?”
She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Are you sure?”
“It’s all I know how to do,” Anne said quietly.
For nearly twenty years, she had managed – and then eventually owned – a boutique hotel in California. She’d poured everything that she had into making that business a success… only to have to sell it all in an attempt to make good on her husband’s debts.
And after all that, after she had sacrificed everything just to keep them afloat, the man still up and left left. Not just her, but all of them. His own children.
It beggared belief, all of it.
“But… here?” Halia’s voice pulled her back to the present. “I don’t know if this is the right time. Dawn’s barely coping as it is.”
“It’s the perfect time. Or at least… it’s necessary.
Anyway, having more people around would be good for her.
She’s always thrived with that sort of low-level chaos.
It’s this self-imposed isolation that’s killing her.
We have to find a way to shake her out of it.
I think that this could work. For everyone. ”
“This is our family home, Anne. It’s not a hotel.”
“Mom’s rented rooms out before, and growing up this place was practically an orphanage.”
Halia’s expression shuttered.
“Sorry,” Anne said. “But you know what I mean. When has this house not had people constantly rotating through? We could use tutu’s old room as a vacation rental–”
“Katie’s living in the ‘ohana unit,” Halia cut in.
“Right.” She paused, recalculating. “Okay. So if me and the kids bunk together, and we leave Akemi’s room alone, that’s still four rooms that we can rent out.”
“To tourists?”
“One summer, Halia. Four rooms, one summer. Nightly rent, eighty percent capacity, maybe some tours. I could earn enough to get my feet under me again and figure something else out. What do you think?”
“It doesn’t much matter what I think,” Halia said, glancing towards the stairs. “I’m not the one you need to convince.”