29. Fern
29
Fern
F ern spent the first morning of her fiftieth decade in a funk.
Her fortieth birthday had arrived without acknowledgement.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true, she corrected herself as she flicked on her blinker, waiting for a chance to turn onto the highway. A handful of friends had texted. Her mother had called to sing her their special birthday song and reminisce about long-ago memories.
But it had gone unacknowledged by Ethan, which left her feeling very low indeed.
He had begun the day with a busy sort of energy, though he didn’t seem to be working on anything in particular. He had been stable lately – going to therapy, doing yard work, taking her on hiking dates all over the island – so she decided to overlook the one off day… even if it did fall on her fortieth birthday.
They had only known each other a few months, after all. He had no way of knowing which day her birthday was. And given how much stress he had been under this year, she had to forgive him for forgetting to find it out.
It was her fault, wasn’t it? For not communicating expectations?
She had never told him that she wanted to celebrate her birthday – hadn’t even really known how much it mattered to her until it had gone unacknowledged. She might have even gotten through the day without having her feelings hurt if it had been a normal day with Ethan being as kind and considerate as he had been lately, if they had gone for a hike or a picnic at the park like they had been doing nearly every day for weeks.
But no. Today of all days, he was distracted and inconsiderate.
He had asked her to drive up to Hilo, where she had a PO Box – there was a long waiting list for the small handful of mailboxes in Pualena, and Ethan didn’t have a mailing address on the island at all, so he’d been using hers for a while now. And she didn’t mind… usually.
But really. For an unemployed man to send her on an errand on her birthday… it was infuriating. Exhausting, really.
One bad day, she reminded herself with a sigh.
She could forgive him one bad day.
Even if the timing was downright crushing.
Fern took her time in Hilo and treated herself a bit. She jumped into the water at her favorite beach park and went for a swim, then rinsed off in one of the outdoor showers and sunned herself on a rock like a sea turtle until she was dry. She stopped at her favorite restaurant for an ‘ulu cheeseburger and a glass of sugarcane juice, then bought a little box of fresh mochi and sat eating it in the sunshine with a view of the bay.
By the time she drove back to Pualena, her feelings were still a bit hurt, but on the whole she felt better. Maybe Ethan wasn’t the perfect boyfriend – not that they had even put a label on their relationship yet, and what a silly word to use at her age – but she liked having him in her life. Most of the time, at least.
Hurt feelings aside, this birthday month had been much better with him in it. She enjoyed hiking alone, but exploring the island with Ethan and Theo was ten times as joyful as going by herself.
At their age, she supposed they had to take the bad along with the good. Ethan had his baggage, but so did she. And he was working on it, actively healing. That was the key thing. Maybe next year…
Fern pushed the thought from her mind. She would focus on the present. What else could she do? He meant well, and it wasn’t his fault that she hadn’t communicated her hopes and expectations. Maybe if she said something now, he would make fresh lasagna for dinner…
Fern’s pulse startled and skittered when she turned onto her lot and saw nearly two dozen cars parked out front. Her first thought was that she had forgotten a class, but she never had this many people come for yoga, not all at once.
A slow suspicion began to dawn, a warm hope deep in her chest that she didn’t dare put words to.
The yard was quiet as she got out of her car and circled around to the big patio where she held her yoga classes. The only sound was the susurrus of wind through the trees and the distant chatter of mynah birds. Then she heard a high, happy sound from Theo.
“Surprise!” the crowd shouted as soon as she rounded the corner.
Fern stopped and put a hand to her mouth, moved to tears.
Nearly all of her students were there, plus more friendly faces from around town. Emma’s son ran past with ‘ōlena’s daughters, and another group of kids had rolled out some mats and started an impromptu yoga class led by an imperious little girl with dark hair and lively brown eyes. Juniper had set up the rainbow array of tea that she sold at the farmers markets, and there was a table loaded with food.
It was beautiful.
“Are you okay?” Ethan crossed the lanai to stand between her and the crowd. Theo was balanced on his left arm, waving a happy greeting. “Is it too much? I didn’t know–”
Theo launched his considerable weight towards Fern, and Ethan cut off with a laugh of surprise as he caught him with his free hand.
“I just wanted you to know how much you mean to us.”
“It’s perfect,” she said, holding her arms out for Theo. “Thank you.”
“Good.” Ethan smiled with relief. Theo went to her, wrapping his arms around her neck in a hug.
What followed was a happy blur. Fern drifted easily between friendly, familiar faces as Theo added to the conversation with baby babble and then fell asleep in her arms. Ethan stood chatting with Nate, and the air was rich with the sound of children chattering and laughing.
Emma brought her a plate of food, Juniper kept refilling her tea, and the whole crowd sang her the Hawaiian birthday song before cutting into a chocolate breadfruit cake that Ethan had baked himself. Never in her life had she felt so held by community, so nourished and loved.
“Arms getting tired yet?” Ethan asked. She sat at one of the portable picnic tables he had set up, cradling Theo in one arm and eating cake with the other.
“A little,” she admitted. “But it’s a good sort of tired. He gets heavier, I get stronger.”
“I can take him upstairs and put him to bed.” It was a halfhearted offer, made with a smile that acknowledged her coming refusal.
“I like him right where he is.”
Ethan settled onto the bench beside her, and they looked up at the cloudy sky. The dusk was turning it a fantastic shade of purple, with streaks of gold and orange jumping up from the mountains to the west. The fed and comfortable crowd chatted to one side of them, and birds in the hibiscus bushes chattered on the other.
“Was it a good birthday?” he asked quietly, his arm warm against hers.
She leaned into him, every cell of her body flooded with a warm sense of peace.
“Best I’ve ever had.”