26. Fern
26
Fern
I t was a perfect autumn day in Hilo: blue skies and a cool breeze. The grass at the beach park shone green in front of the clear water of the seaside ponds.
“If you want to get Theo out of his seat,” Ethan said as he put his truck into Park, “I’ll grab the diaper bag and that salad that you made.”
“Deal.” She slipped down from the cab of the truck and then opened the back door to get Theo. He had fallen asleep on the drive to Hilo, and she managed to ease him out of his seat without waking him. He stirred when the sun hit his eyelids, then nestled his face into the crook of her neck and went back to sleep.
There was a huge crowd gathered for the birthday party. They had claimed two of the blue-roofed beach pavilions, and there were two picnic tables crammed with food. Ethan shuffled some trays around to make a spot for the kale salad that Fern had made. He set it down and then retreated from the crowd to stand by her side.
There were plenty of familiar faces, lots of students from Fern’s yoga classes, but no close friends. Gatherings like these always reminded her of how much of an outsider she still was on the island. It took a long time to truly feel a part of things – everyone said so. Most transplants didn’t last that long.
“Hey, you made it!” ‘ōlena said when she spotted them. She wove through the crowd and enveloped Fern in a hug, careful not to crush the baby.
“Happy birthday!” Fern returned the hug with one arm, cradling Theo in the other.
“Mahalo.” ‘ōlena greeted Ethan with a friendly shove and slipped into a stronger accent, the way locals often did with family. “I heard you moved ova to the island, but nobody’s seen you.”
“I’ve been busy with this little guy,” he said with a gesture to Theo.
“Babies are portable, you know,” ‘ōlena said dryly.
“I’ve had a rough time of it lately.” There was a mild note of rebuke in his voice.
“That’s when you need people the most. What did you come here for, if not to lean on ‘ohana?”
He didn’t have an answer to that.
“I know it’s been a long time since we were all dumb kids adventuring together, but you’re still ‘ohana. You know that, right? Nate’s been wondering why you never come around.”
“I’m still getting my feet under me.” There was a ragged edge to his voice now, and Fern slipped her hand into his.
‘ōlena heard it too, and she nodded. Her expression was thoughtful.
“Nate’s gonna level the hilltop soon, where we’re gonna build our house. You should give him a hand. Come up and see the orchard sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
“Look at him, holding court.” ‘ōlena crossed her arms and grinned across the crowd at her husband, who towered a head taller than everyone else. “I told him that I didn’t need some big birthday party, but he insisted. He’s trying to make up for lost time. I keep telling him, there’s no making up for what’s already gone. There’s only making the most of the time we have now. But I guess this is his way of doing that.”
A new arrival waved and made a beeline for ‘ōlena, who said a friendly goodbye to Ethan and Fern as she walked away.
“I didn’t realize that you knew them so well,” Fern said.
“I don’t, really. But we used to run in the same circles.”
“When was that?”
“Anytime we came to Hawai’i,” he said with a shrug. Seeing the confusion in her eyes, he reminded her, “My brother-in-law was ‘ōlena’s cousin. They were close.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Fern looked out at the crowd, puzzle piecing the family tree together in her head. Sometimes it seemed like everybody in Pualena was related to everybody else in one way or another. It was hard to keep track of… and it was one more aspect of island life that left her feeling like she was always circling the outskirts of society without ever really becoming a part of it.
Patience, she counseled herself.
Theo stirred, and she rocked her body slowly from side to side.
She had never felt completely at home anywhere. Becoming a full member of the Pualena community would take time… not just because of them, but because of her. There was an internal adjustment that needed to happen, and she wasn’t sure what that looked like.
Maybe Ethan wasn’t the only one who needed therapy.
“Hey Dad!” Juniper jogged over looking happier than Fern had seen her in months. Emma and Lani followed, flanking Jun like her own personal guard. There was a slight apprehension in their expressions that relaxed when Juniper hugged her dad.
They all chatted for a while, the conversation loving and tense and amiable all at once, before drifting over to the food table.
“A lot of girls in your family,” she remarked.
“You haven’t even met my little sister Liz and her two daughters.”
“It’s quite the clan.”
“It’s something else,” he said with a sigh. “My dad wasn’t home much when we were growing up, so it was just me and my sisters most of the time. My mom was the type to send us outside until it was too dark to play.”
“I always wanted a sister.”
“I always wanted a brother. Adam evened things out a bit. I’m sorry I didn’t spend more time with him. We were so busy with our own lives, trying to get established. We always thought we’d have more time. Now he’s gone, my family’s split by an ocean, and Juniper’s starting a family of her own. It left me feeling… I don’t know what. Alone, I guess. Sort of lost.”
She squeezed his hand. “Just you and Theo against the world.”
He looked at her, his expression serious. “We’ve got you.”
“You’ve got me,” she agreed, grinning.
When she looked back at the crowd, she no longer felt adrift on a sea of people. With Theo’s fat cheek resting on her shoulder and Ethan’s strong hand in hers, she no longer felt alone.
“Should we go get something to eat?” she asked.
He nodded and let go of her hand. “I’ll make you a plate.”
She followed him, shifting Theo’s weight to give her right arm a break. Her muscles burned after holding him a while, but there was no part of her that wanted to put him down.
They settled down on a shady patch of grass with Emma and Jun, watching Kai and the other kids splash and play. Theo woke up happy and gobbled bits of food from their plates.
She wasn’t sure about the larger community; in many ways, she still felt like an interloper on the island.
But here, in this little family? This fractured, healing, vibrant group?
She was beginning to feel at home.