Chapter 3
Laurie
It is a truth universally acknowledged, Laurie wrote, that a single woman in possession of a husband must be in want of good fortune.
She sighed and deleted the sentence, then typed up a basic bio summarizing her degrees and relevant work experience.
Creativity wasn’t a relevant skill for proofreaders; accuracy and attention to detail were what mattered.
That and how quickly you could get things back to frazzled students and authors facing down deadlines.
She didn’t want to scare off any potential clients with a weird intro.
Well, she did want to, but she knew that she shouldn’t; she needed all the work she could get.
Laurie had been working online for years, just side gigs here and there. Now she was casting a wider net in an effort to cobble together a full-time income.
The thought of scraping together enough to survive in Hawaii was overwhelming, mostly because she so desperately wanted to spend those working hours with her daughter.
That was the main reason she had stayed with Chris so much longer than she really wanted to; she couldn’t bear to lose out on time with Mia.
When she was a baby, even being away from her on weekends would have been excruciating.
Now that Mia was eight (and a half) she could just about bear it…
though the thought of sending her off with Chris still made Laurie nauseous with worry.
She was better off than most women in her situation. She knew that.
She had a few steady clients and the support of her family and a safe place to stay.
Even so, starting over from scratch felt overwhelming.
It was liberating too, though. She stood on the cusp of an exhilarating new life of peace and freedom.
But the looming custody battle was a dark cloud that cast a shadow over every hopeful thing. She had seen enough friends and acquaintances dragged through hell to know exactly how ugly things could get.
Mia burst into the kitchen, sweat-damp and breathing hard.
She and her cousins had been playing hide-and-go-seek tag for hours.
That was one silver lining to their situation: for Mia, the experience thus far felt like an extended vacation.
She had traded her volatile father for a doting grandmother, distant neighbors for adoring aunties, and the casual cruelty of her classmates for time with her cousins.
Dawn kept saying that she had never seen Mia so happy.
She wasn’t there at midnight, when nightmares drove Mia from sleep with such unrelenting terror that it took a full hour for her to calm down.
She was never able to tell Laurie about the nightmares; all that stayed with her was the fear.
She did eventually sleep again, and in the morning she greeted the day with excitement.
Laurie supposed it was her mind’s way of processing that final day with her father.
I need water, Mia signed. She was red-faced and grinning.
You hungry? Laurie asked.
No. Mia filled a glass of water at the sink, gulped it down, and raced back outside.
Laurie stood to stretch as she watched the kids play in the back yard. When she saw Mia running with her cousins in the summer sunshine, hope and gratitude outshone her fear. If only every day could look like this.
She had already sent an email to Mia’s year-round private school informing them that she would no longer be attending. Public schools were still out for the summer, so she had time to consider her options.
She wanted to homeschool; she always had. Chris had insisted on sending Mia to the tiny Christian private school in Hawi, and Laurie had acquiesced. Now, though, she wanted to take charge of her daughter’s education.
Unfortunately, it might not be up to her.
Homeschooling while working full time would be a challenge, but she felt up to it.
She worked from home, and it would be easy enough for Mia to work on her lessons while Laurie worked on her laptop.
But if Chris didn’t agree – and she couldn’t see why he would – then they would end up in front of a judge.
And if that happened, she had no idea what the judge would decide.
She supposed it would come down to that person’s individual biases. It was terrifying to think that her daughter’s future was in the hands of a single stranger.
She took a shaky breath and walked outside, trying to quiet her worries.
In that moment, Mia was living her best life, sprinting with her cousins through their grandmother’s backyard out in the middle of the Pacific.
Pete appeared around the corner and sprayed the girls, who shrieked with laughter and raced for control of the hose. Laurie watched them for a while, and then she went inside for a pile of towels. She set them next to the back door, ready for whenever the kids finally came back inside.
Halia walked in through the front door carrying two big canvas bags. She met Laurie’s eyes and smiled.
Thai food? Laurie guessed.
“Yep. Where is everybody?”
“Zoe’s at work. Anne and Claire are upstairs cleaning. Oakley and Mom are running errands. Kids are outside draining the catchment tank with a water fight.”
A small brown shape streaked across the floor, and Halia jumped.
Rikki stood up on his back legs and chirped at her. The mongoose had grown bold around the family, though he still made himself scarce when Anne’s guests crowded the table in the mornings. He chirped at Halia, demanding food; she rolled her eyes and walked around him.
“I’m too hungry to wait.” Halia turned and shouted something up the stairs, probably telling the redheads to come down for lunch. Then she put the bags on the counter and started to set out the food.
“Thanks for lunch,” Laurie said. She went to the cupboard and brought out stacks of plates and bowls.
Halia caught her eye and signed, How are you?
Laurie smiled stiffly and shrugged. With an open hand, she tapped her thumb to her chest. Fine.
Halia didn’t push. She just nodded and passed the pad thai.
Claire came downstairs and claimed an entire container of fried rice while Anne herded the younger kids inside, wrapped each one in a towel, and sent them upstairs to change. Only then did she join her sisters at the table.
Anne looked frazzled but happy. Her dark red hair was up in a messy bun and she wore a ratty old t-shirt, but her freckled face glowed with a radiance that Laurie hadn’t seen in years.
Laurie realized that she hadn’t seen her sister truly happy since they were kids – but now, living in Pualena with all three of her kids, she finally was. It gave her hope for the future – and with that, appetite enough to eat a full meal.
By the time she finished her pad thai and moved on to green papaya salad, everyone from little Harper up to Grandma Dawn was crowded around the long wooden table.
It was cozy, sitting there with Mia on one side of her and Claire on the other.
This was probably the only crowd that Laurie would ever feel comfortable in, and she was grateful to have even one place where she felt like she belonged.
She had just stood up to clear the table when Chris pulled into the driveway.
Laurie’s blood went cold.
She stood there, still as a statue in the middle of the cozy domestic scene.
Halia noticed and turned to look out the front windows. When she saw Chris’s van, she stood and moved towards the door. Laurie circled around the table and caught her shoulder.
It’s OK, she signed.
Halia looked at her for a moment, ready to stand between her little sister and anything that came their way. Then she relented and stepped aside.
“We knew this was coming sooner or later,” Laurie said quietly.
“Stand firm, but try not to antagonize him,” Halia advised.
Laurie watched her carefully, reading her lips; she had never bothered to put her hearing aids in that day, and Halia had never learned how to sign as well as the younger sisters.
“Your best bet is a settlement. If at all possible.” Halia gave her a quick hug, then pulled back and said, “We’re here for you. We’re all right here.”
She nodded and took a shaky breath.
Then she went out onto the lanai to meet her husband.
“Laurie!” Chris looked overjoyed to see her, and then his expression quickly gave way to guilt. He seemed so miserable, so contrite, that for a moment her heart ached for him.
There he stood, the father of her child. She had loved him once. Fear and empathy battled deep inside of her, hidden behind a neutral expression.
“Please come home.” He put two hands together in a plea – not the ASL sign for please, Laurie noted, because he had abandoned any efforts at sign language nearly a decade before. Just two hands pressed together in a performative prayer. “Please, Laurie. I’m so sorry.”
She could hardly see her way forward. Divorce proceedings, shared custody, supporting her daughter in Hawaii as a single mom… it was all so hopelessly ugly and difficult that for a moment, she felt tempted to walk right back into his arms.
If she didn’t have a whole household of women standing behind her, she might have done just that. It was easy to understand why so many women went back to their abusers. Why so many mothers stayed.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, but now frustration colored his expression. “I’ve just been so stressed with work and the mortgage. When you just take off without telling me where you are, it drives me insane. I know I overreacted, but so did you. Come home, Laurie. We can work this out.”
It was a torrent of drivel meant to excuse outright abuse – and to add insult to injury, she had to focus her full attention on reading his lips just to follow the nonsense that he was spewing.
She squinted against the bright summer sunshine, working hard to understand him while he tried to split the blame fifty-fifty.
Given a few more days, he would convince himself that the entire incident was her fault.
Laurie closed her eyes and recalled the night that she left.