Chapter 10 Halia
Halia
Halia enjoyed the long, peaceful drive up to Hawi.
She rarely made time to visit the rest of the island – so when she did get the chance to take a longer drive, she relished it. She took the coastal route, driving up through the green hills with their soaring ocean views.
Meet me for lunch? she texted Oakley as she neared Waimea. I’m fifteen minutes out.
She tossed her phone back onto the passenger seat and drove the remaining distance without checking it. Whether her sister was free or not, Halia’s plans were the same. There was only one place she ever ate in Waimea; it was too good to skip on the rare occasion that she drove that way.
When Halia parked near the barn-red food truck, she was happy to see Oakley’s car parked in the shade.
She spotted her sister at one of the picnic tables, typing away on her phone. Oakley wore her usual pricy workout clothes, and her yellow hair was pulled up into a tight bun. Her face looked like it was trying to scowl, but the expression didn’t quite translate to her botox-smooth forehead.
How was it possible that women with the most picture-perfect lives were often the most stressed? Halia shook her head in wonder. She supposed that maintaining that veneer of perfection took its toll.
“I already ordered,” Oakley said when she saw her. “I have to pick Harper up in half an hour. What are you doing in Waimea?”
Halia cocked an eyebrow. “Hello to you too.”
“Sorry.” Oakley’s habitual smile softened into something true and bright. “Hi. It’s good to see you. I’d hug you, but I just taught three classes in a row and I stink.”
Halia rolled her eyes and hugged her anyway.
“I got the spicy one and the truffle one,” Oakley told her. “And they have lilikoi lemonade today, so two of those.”
“Sounds perfect.”
When the sandwiches came up, they swapped so that they both had half of each.
They were gourmet grilled cheese, some of the most delicious food on the whole island.
Halia bit into the spicy one first, gooey cheese studded with bacon and bits of serrano peppers.
They were quiet for a moment, eating – but it wasn’t in Oakley’s nature to stay silent for long.
“What are you doing in Waimea?” she asked again.
“Laurie and Mia are going to spend the weekend at Mom’s house. I’m driving to pick them up.”
Oakley’s face crumpled with guilt. “I could have done that.”
“You’re not driving down until tomorrow. This gives them an extra day.”
“That’s… what, four hours round trip?”
Four and a half, maybe five, but Halia didn’t correct her. “I don’t mind.”
Oakley just shook her head. “I don’t understand why they don’t buy a second car.”
“That would give her too much freedom.”
“What are you talking about?”
Halia gave her a long, level look.
“Chris wouldn’t… he’s not like that,” she protested.
Halia took another bite of her sandwich.
“Not every man is–” Oakley started, but she bit off her half-formed protest and stared off into the middle distance, like things were starting to click into place in her mind.
Maybe she was remembering the way that Chris had charmed them all at the beginning and then turned cold.
Or his early attempts to learn sign language, long since abandoned.
Then there was the gradual isolation of Laurie from the rest of the family, long absences that she tried to cover with a growing pile of excuses.
When Oakley looked at Halia again, her blue eyes were worried.
“I should get back on the road.” Halia drained the last of her lemonade, relishing the sweet-tart taste of the lilikoi.
“Wait.” Oakley’s hand shot out to grab her arm. “Is Laurie in trouble?”
Halia met her eyes in silence, wondering how to answer that question. Finally she said, “She’s not happy.”
Oakley withdrew her hand, looking thoughtful. In a rare moment of solemn vulnerability, she said, “Is anyone?”
The question surprised her, coming from her sunniest sister. But she had a point. How many people were truly happy, even half the time?
Halia herself didn’t feel joy on a regular basis.
She liked her life. It was fulfilling, meaningful, comfortable, connected, satisfying. But happy? That was a fleeting feeling, not the end goal.
“Maybe not,” she answered. “I don’t think that’s the right thing to chase, anyhow.”
Oakley made a noncommittal sound, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
“Are you okay?” Halia asked.
Her usual smile reappeared, more mask than joy. “Of course. I’m just worried about Laurie.”
Now it was Halia’s turn to make a small, noncommittal noise.
Oakley got up from the table. “I have to go get Harper.”
“And I should be getting up to Hawi.” Halia stood and gave her sister a strong hug. “See you tomorrow?”
“Of course. We’ll be there bright and early.”
Driving up to Hawi, a niggling sense of unease crept up and down Halia’s arms. Was it wrong of her not to worry more about Laurie?
Not to ask more questions, offer more help?
She did what she thought was most practical…
but sometimes she wondered whether she hadn’t hardened her heart too much over the years.
Halia had been softhearted once. Young and vulnerable.
A very long time ago now.
She could remember hiding when her father raged, taking refuge beneath the bed or in the back of a closet.
Occasionally she ran to a neighbor’s house… but the pity in their eyes was worse than the dark of her hiding spots, and wondering if her mother was alive or dead was far more excruciating than hearing the muffled sound of blows.
If she was home, she could crawl out of hiding as soon as the door slammed behind her father. She could tend to her mother’s wounds and–
Halia shook her head, forcing herself to actually see the road in front of her. She had been lost in her memories for a moment, blind to the world around her. That didn’t happen much anymore. She didn’t let it.
Such a very long time ago now.
So yes, she had grown a thick shell around her heart. It was the only way to survive the pain of those years, the horrible fear of seeing her mother loaded into an ambulance, the repeated stints in foster care.
She had seen what happened to the softhearted children. The things that they did to cope. And she refused to go down that road.
If she hadn’t hardened her heart somewhat, she wouldn’t have survived. If she hadn’t maintained that wall, she wouldn’t be able to function now. Because she did have that armor, she was able to be a rock for people who needed one.
But still. The armor that protected her sometimes kept the people closest to her at arm’s length. She didn’t know how to change that – was often unsure of whether or not she even wanted to – but it did make it harder to reach people sometimes.
Laurie was one of millions of women caught in a slowly tightening vice of domestic abuse and coercive control.
She had no bruises to point to, no evidence to sway a judge.
Just a world that got smaller and smaller every year.
Leaving a man like Chris was a fraught decision in the best of circumstances.
And with Mia involved, it became an impossible choice.
Laurie wasn’t willing to sacrifice time with her daughter, was loath to leave her in Chris’s care for half of each week, and that was the most likely outcome.
In modern-day Hawaii, fathers were almost always granted equal custodial rights – regardless of how they treated their children or what they might have done to their wives.
And so she stayed, and tiptoed around him, and smiled at her daughter.
She made the best of things.
Chris didn’t know that Halia was driving to pick them up. He always found some excuse to keep them home – or to prevent Mia from leaving, at least, which was pretty much the same thing. Laurie hadn’t even been allowed to stay overnight with her family the night of the funeral.
Aside from that awful weekend, which was lost to a haze of shock and grief, this was the first time that all five sisters were home at once in years.
Laurie had chosen to beg forgiveness rather than asking permission.
She would message Chris to tell him that Halia dropped by to pick them up for a sisters weekend.
He wasn’t likely to drive down to get them, not if they only stayed for a couple of nights.
It was a gorgeous house, Halia observed grimly as she pulled up the driveway. Two stories tall, with a huge green lawn on both sides. Walking distance from the tiny private school that Mia went to, but on enough land surrounded by thick vegetation that the place still felt isolated.
The house was white when they bought it, but Laurie’s husband had painted it an awful shade of blue-gray that made Halia think of a prison. His energy lingered about the place like a living ghost, and it gave her the creeps.
Laurie and Mia were waiting on the front porch. They had one small duffel bag between them, and a sharp twist of disappointment caught Halia off guard.
Some part of her had hoped that this was it – that Laurie wouldn’t go back.
She knew better, but occasionally her hope outpaced her good sense.
Halia turned her attention to her sister. Laurie’s thick black curls were loose, shining in the midday sun. The curves of her bright purple hearing aids were visible over each ear.
It was hard sometimes, to look at one of her sisters and not see the little girl she had been — to see Laurie as a grown woman, when in her mind’s eye she saw the small girl who sat out on the front steps every Sunday waiting for a birth mother who never showed.
“Hi Auntie!” Mia threw her arms around Halia as soon as she stepped out of the car. Her sleek brown hair was warm from the sun. “Thank you for getting us!”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” She lifted her niece into a hug, then set her down again. “Got all your stuff?”
“Yep!” Mia rescued the stuffed dolphin she’d dropped and clutched it to her chest. “That’s everything!”
Laurie had already put their bag on the car. She smiled when she said hello, but there was a miserable look in her eyes that tore at Halia’s heart.
“Thank you for driving all the way up here.”
“My pleasure. It’s a beautiful drive.”
“This weekend is supposed to be about you.” Laurie’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “It’s not fair for you to have to drive all the way up here on your own birthday.”
“I like the drive,” Halia said and signed. “It’s practically a vacation. Anyway, my birthday’s not until tomorrow. Now, go on. Get in.”
Halia ducked into the driver’s seat and sat down again.
She didn’t want to linger on Chris’s property any longer than she had to.
A plumber who often drove down into Kona, he worked long hours – but they were irregular hours, and he loved to pop back home without warning.
Probably he was terrified of his gorgeous wife taking up with someone else while he was away.
Laurie sniffed back tears as she got into the car, but her smile was bright when she turned to look at Mia.
“Buckle up!” she said.
“I’m on my way to grandma’s house,” Mia sang as she fastened her seatbelt. “I’m going to see my cousins!”
They coasted down the driveway, leaving the oppressive gray house behind them. With one hand on the wheel and the other grasping her sister’s, Halia turned towards home.