4. Halia #2
“Because it’s not fair! Pete can’t help that he’s going to be a man! Why shouldn’t he be allowed? It’s not like he’s going to hurt anyone.”
“You’ll understand when you’re older,” was all Halia could think to say.
Mia rolled her eyes. “I hate it when grownups say that.”
“I hear you.”
She tossed her empty bowl in the trash. “Can we go now?”
“Sure.” Halia tossed her paper bowl away, still half full. “Let’s go.”
The kids cheered up as they walked the short distance to Paradise Books.
Kids were quick to forget… and quick to forgive. For Mia, who had to spend most weekends with the man who had hurt and frightened her mother, Forgive and Forget was a necessary coping mechanism.
There were still a handful of customers in the shop when they arrived at Paradise Books, and Laurie was chatting with a couple up at the counter.
Mia pulled Pete over to the children’s books. Halia stood near the front of the shop for a moment, admiring the mural on the wall behind her sister. Native birds flew out of an open book, and red ‘ōhi‘a flowers bloomed all around.
Halia was so proud of her little sister. With an age gap of eight years between them, Halia remembered better than anyone all that Laurie had been through.
When she looked at her, she still saw the little girl who would plant herself on the front steps all day, every Sunday, stubbornly waiting for a mother who never came. She remembered the years of speech therapy and how shy she had been to speak in front of anyone.
To see her now, chatting cheerfully with customers, was delightful. Halia was amazed by the woman that Laurie had become – and she was a wonderful mother, too.
“Thank you so much for picking them up,” Laurie said to Halia as her customers left. “I really appreciate it.”
“It was no trouble,” Halia replied. “They’re good kids.”
“How have you been?”
“I’m well. You know me. Always the same.”
The families that rotated through her shelter were a source of constant change, but she was the one who stood steady throughout it all: the boulder in the middle of the stream. People came and went, but her life stayed much the same.
Her phone buzzed, and a picture of her adoptive parents appeared on the screen.
“Just a sec. Mom’s calling.”
Laurie gestured for her to answer.
“Aloha,” Halia brought the phone to her ear.
“Oh Halia, I’m glad you picked up. Are you at work?”
“I’m at the bookshop right now. What’s up?”
“So you’re not busy?” Dawn asked.
“What do you need?”
“Is there any chance you could pick Akemi up at the airport?”
“She’s coming home? When?”
“Today. She’s on the plane already.”
“I didn’t know she was coming.”
“Oh, you know Akemi. Always last minute. Her flight gets here in less than an hour, and I said that I would get her, but Patty Takahashi needs a bridge partner after hers took ill at the last minute, and she can’t find anyone else.”
“Sure, I can pick her up.”
“You’re a lifesaver, Hallie.”
The old childhood nickname usually made an appearance when she needed to ask for a favor. Halia didn’t mind, not really. She was glad that Dawn had an active social life.
Losing their dad when he was just sixty-four years old had been hard on all of them, but there were a few months there when she wondered if they might lose Dawn too, so deep and dark was her grief.
And so if there was anything that she could do to keep their remaining parent active and happy, she would. And she did.
“You’ll have to stop by and pick up the car seat,” Dawn said. “Akemi doesn’t have one with her. I’m leaving now, so I’ll just put it on the lanai for you, okay?”
Halia opened her mouth to ask if Dawn could drop the infant seat at the shop on her way out of town… then closed it again. She was in a rush. And Halia didn’t mind the slow, coasting drive down to the cliffs. It was just a few extra miles.
She pulled into the cell phone lot at the airport, texted Akemi to let her know that she was there to pick her up, and sat waiting.
Hunger gnawed at her stomach – she had skipped lunch – and she wished that she had grabbed something on the way. Or at least asked Dawn precisely what time Akemi’s flight was due to land.
She had only been there for about half an hour when Akemi texted to tell her that she was out front. A new excitement thrummed in Halia’s chest as she drove to pick up her baby sister (her secret favorite) and little Kaleo.
Not so little anymore. Kaleo was a chubby toddler now, and Akemi held him in two arms as she stood waiting on the curb.
Akemi had always traveled with just one modestly sized backpack, but she had gathered more and more things over the past year, including a collapsible stroller and portable crib. She tried to wrestle the screaming baby into his car seat as Halia loaded her bags into the back of her car.
“Here,” Halia offered. “Let me hold him for a minute.”
“There are people waiting to pull up,” Akemi worried.
“Let them wait.” She reached out her arms and took the baby, who was smaller than he looked when his mother was holding him.
Petite Akemi only came up to Halia’s shoulders. Halia wondered how she got around by herself with all of that stuff and Kaleo too.
Freed from the threat of a carseat, Kaleo calmed and looked up at her with his huge brown eyes, so dark they were nearly black.
“Long day, huh?” she said to him.
He stuck a thumb in his mouth and regarded her solemnly.
“Should we give it another try? It’s hot out here. Let’s get you out of the sun.”
She cranked the AC inside of the car and then went into the back seat to buckle Kaleo into his seat. Akemi had already adjusted the straps, and this time he went in easily.
“How did you do that?” Akemi demanded as Halia shut the door. Halia gave her a one-armed squeeze and kissed the top of her head.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.” She circled around and got into the driver’s seat.
Akemi collapsed into the passenger seat beside her, looking exhausted.
“Are you hungry?” Halia asked.
“Starving. I’m still breastfeeding, so I’m always hungry. I brought a stupid amount of snacks on the plane and somehow still managed to eat them all before we’d even gotten halfway here.”
“Okay, let’s stop for food.”
“Maybe we should just go home and order takeout. I don’t want to wrestle him into his car seat again.”
“You need food,” Halia said firmly. “We’ll stop in Hilo.”
She drove a short distance to Akemi’s favorite restaurant, a place known for its fresh sugarcane juice. They each ordered a tall, cold glass of the sweet green drink, plus an ‘ulu burger for Halia and a smoky taro burger for Akemi.
They claimed a table, where Kaleo squirmed and screamed and attacked the napkin dispenser… and just generally made a terror of himself until Akemi let him down to walk between the tables.
“He’s very advanced,” Halia said mildly.
“Lucky me,” Akemi said flatly. She reached out to keep him from smacking his head into the sharp corner of the nearest table.
“You sit down,” Halia said when the server had brought their drinks to the table. “I’ll follow him for a minute.”
“Are you sure?”
“You’ve been solo for months, and I haven’t seen him since he was tiny. Hydrate.”
Akemi sank gratefully into her seat and took a deep drink of the sugarcane juice.
“I missed this,” she sighed happily. “I’ve tried it in other countries, but it’s never quite as good as here in Hawaii.”
“Mo’ beddah on the island,” Halia said.
“You’re not wrong.” She took another sip. “At least in some ways. I wish this place had a space where Kaleo could run around.”
“We have lots of playgrounds.”
“No, I mean right here at the café. In most of the world, cafés come with playgrounds. Why not here?”
“It’s Hawaii,” Halia said with a shrug. “Kids play outside.”
“Not here. He’d run right into the street.”
“True.”
The waitress brought their food and set it on the table.
Halia scooped Kaleo up and brought him to sit on her knee while they ate. Once he got a taste for the ‘ulu burger, he allowed them to slot him into the high chair and feed him baby-sized bites.
“I wish there was something here for babies,” Akemi said thoughtfully, stabbing at what remained of her side salad.
“There’s no room.”
“I don’t mean this restaurant. I mean anywhere on the island.”
“There must be something.”
“Not that I’ve seen.” A new light came into her eyes. “Imagine a café with a safe spot for babies to play.”
“Sounds nice,” Halia said.
“We could even hire a couple of teenagers to keep an eye on them while their parents work! Or just drink a cup of coffee in peace, have an adult conversation, whatever. Maybe that should be my next project!”
Halia nodded as she ate the last of her burger – but inwardly, she had the bitter thought that Akemi was too flighty to actually stay long enough to build something.
Immediately, she felt guilty for thinking about her baby sister that way.
Akemi was capable. She could do whatever she set her mind to, and Halia would be there to support her.
She passed a hand over her eyes. Suddenly, she felt very tired.
Maybe being the rock of the family was finally starting to wear on her.