Chapter 7 Laurie
Laurie
Sitting in the passenger seat of her mom’s car, Laurie felt like a kid again… and not in a good way. This was her first attempt at finding a place of her own, and her mommy was doing it for her. It was embarrassing.
At the same time, she knew that leaning on her family and community was the only way she was going to find a decent place that she could afford in Hawaii.
And so she sat quietly in the car and rode along to Auntie Mahina’s house, just like she had done a thousand times before.
The Madeira property was beautiful, a tropical paradise blooming with color.
Mahina was particularly fond of hibiscus bushes, and she had collected every variety under the sun.
Lush flowers bloomed in sunset colors ranging from pale pink to firetruck-yellow.
Even the white flowers had red stars at the center.
Mia looked around the garden with wide eyes, her amazement magnified by her bright purple coke-bottle glasses.
Can we really live here? she asked.
Maybe, Laurie told her. We’ll see.
“Aloha!” Mahina came down the steps and greeted them with open arms. “E komo mai!”
“Aloha, Auntie,” Laurie greeted her.
“It’s so good to see you! And look at this baby, so tall and grown up! How old are you now, honey?”
Half hidden behind Laurie, Mia responded with the ASL sign for eight. Mahina’s eyebrows came together, and she looked between Laurie and Dawn uncertainly.
“Use your voice,” Dawn said sternly. Laurie stepped away, simultaneously unveiling her daughter and giving herself a better view of Mia’s face.
“I’m eight,” Mia told her.
“Eight years old!” Mahina said, smile returning. “Just like my Kiki! Have you met my grandbabies?”
“I don’t think so.”
Mahina turned and shouted something towards the house. Then she faced them again and gestured for them to follow her around back. She talked in a steady stream as she led them towards the ‘ohana unit.
Even with her hearing aids on, Laurie couldn’t make sense of what Mahina was saying without reading her lips. Mia gave her a knowing look.
She says they don’t live here anymore, she translated as they walked.
Who? Laurie asked.
Her grandkids, Mia clarified. But they’re still here a lot.
They walked past a big vegetable garden and through a small orchard where the floral scent of lychee perfumed the air.
Finally they arrived at a small cedar house tucked into the back corner of the property.
It had a little lanai out front with just enough room for two chairs and a small table.
Ti plants provided pops of hot-pink color against the varied shades of green.
For Laurie, it was love at first sight.
She turned to look at Mia, but her daughter had wandered away. Mahina’s grandkids had come out to greet them. There were three of them, a boy and two girls, all close to Mia’s age.
All four kids went to climb the big lychee tree. Laurie watched as Mia worked her way through the branches towards a cluster of ripe red fruit.
Dawn tapped Laurie’s shoulder, and she looked back to the conversation with a start. Mahina smiled patiently and repeated her question.
“Would you like to see inside?”
Laurie nodded. “Yes, please.”
The inside of the house was just as beautiful as the exterior. Wooden beams reached across the vaulted ceiling, and the polished floor glowed like honey.
Most modern houses were made with cheap materials that mouldered and rotted in the damp Hawaiian air. The workmanship was quick and sloppy.
This house, though… it was a work of art.
Laurie wandered through the kitchen, running her fingers along the wooden countertops. Handmade cabinets ran along the top and bottom. She felt like a fairy who’d found a home in the hollow of a tree.
The space was small, just a single room that served as living room, dining room, and kitchen. The previous tenant had left most of the furniture in place. There was a comfy-looking couch in the corner, a coffee table, and a small table with two chairs. A single door led to the bedroom and bathroom.
It was just big enough for her and Mia.
She loved it.
Dawn and Mahina were chatting companionably on the lanai, and she peeked through the front door to ask if the furniture was staying. Mahina nodded the affirmative.
“Kekoa made new furniture for his new house,” she bragged, “so all of this will stay here.”
Laurie walked back through the front room and into the bedroom, which held a single bunkbed. There was a twin mattress up top and a queen down below. Mia would love that.
She went to the bathroom, where the floor of the shower had been pieced together with river stones, and she had to close her eyes for a moment.
She didn’t want to hear how much it would cost to live here.
Then she opened her eyes again and turned to look at herself in the mirror.
You can do this, she told herself sternly. You’ll make it work, no matter how many hours it takes. This place is perfect. You can do this.
Laurie took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom – and right into a giant.
She shrieked and jumped back.
“Sorry,” the man said, but he was laughing at her. “You didn’t hear me come in?”
Laurie shook her head, and his eyes went to her hearing aids. Instead of looking embarrassed or awkward, like most people would, his smile got even brighter.
“Oh, it’s you! Laurie, right?” His voice was so low and deep that she could hear just about every word that he said.
Her hearing aids couldn’t do much for high-pitched voices – she just couldn’t hear those frequencies anymore – but low ones came through okay.
She’d been able to hear her dad better than anyone else.
“You’re one of Kimo’s kids.” A shadow passed over his sunny expression. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
Laurie nodded. Where was her voice today? Why was she inexplicably tongue-tied around this local guy that she had known since their hanabata days?
True, he was a lot taller and broader than the last time she’d seen him. Kekoa had grown into a bear of a man – a gentle giant, just like his dad.
But he was the same kid who used to challenge the Kalama girls to backyard races.
He won half the time, Laurie remembered, which had been pretty impressive given that he was about four years younger than Annie Oakley.
Sometimes, though, he would let Laurie and Akemi outrun him…
a valiant concession for a kid that age.
“What?” His local accent was strong to begin with, and now he exaggerated it for effect. “You no remembah me?”
“I remember you,” she said, fighting back a smile.
“Good.” Kekoa grinned playfully. “I remember you, too.”
“You were a troublemaker,” she teased, finding her voice. Memories of their schooldays were slowly coming back to her. He had been in the same class as Akemi. “Mrs. Johnson was always making you sit outside.”
“I couldn’t sit still,” he admitted.
“And now?”
“Now I don’t have to sit at a desk,” he said with a shrug. “I get to build things.”
Mahina came in and grinned at them. “You two get lost back here or what?”
Kekoa winked at Laurie. “I was just giving her the grand tour.”
“He built this place himself, you know,” Mahina boasted. “And the new house too.”
“I built the house, but I can’t take credit for the garden.” He grinned at Laurie. “My mom’s the green thumb. I’m better with trees that have already been cut down.”
His mother asked him a question that Laurie didn’t catch; she was too slow in looking away from Kekoa. It was always strange, coming home and seeing how much some people had grown and changed while she was away.
“‘Io hates his new mattress,” he was telling Mahina. “He wants his old one back.”
“What’s wrong with the new one?” she asked.
“Too soft, I guess.” He looked at Laurie. “I’m just going to grab this old one, and I’ll put the new one in here. Are you going to take the place?”
She looked uncertainly from him to Mahina. “We haven’t discussed the rent.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” He lifted the mattress down from the top bunk, holding it like it was full of air, and maneuvered it deftly through the bedroom door.
“So,” Mahina said. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” Laurie replied. A knot grew in her stomach as she waited to hear what it would cost to rent this little one-bedroom house.
Whatever it was, she resolved to work hard enough to be able to afford it. The place already felt like home.
“What’s the monthly rent?”
Mahina shrugged. “We’ve never rented it out before.”
Laurie waited.
“I’ll tell you what. You and your baby go ahead and move in and get back on your feet. When you’re ready, you pay what you can, when you can.”
Laurie put a hand over her mouth, suddenly fighting back tears.
“Do you mean it?” she asked when she found her voice again.
“Sure I do.” Mahina put a warm hand on her shoulder. “You’re family.”
“Auntie–” she started, but Mahina cut her off.
“Don’t argue. After everything that your family has done for our community? Anyway, it’ll make me happy to have you both here. I miss my grandbabies.”
Kekoa came through carrying a brand-new mattress. He was laughing.
“Mom, you see them almost every day.”
“I miss having them in the house!”
“They’re all here right now!”
“Oh! That reminds me. The cookies should be cool by now. Laurie, can Mia eat normal cookies? With regular flour?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.”
“Thank goodness for that. You just never know these days.” She bustled out of the room in a hurry.
Laurie turned to look at Kekoa. The muscles of his back shifted beneath his t-shirt as he settled the new mattress onto the top bunk. He turned to face her, and a huge smile overtook his face when he caught her watching him.
“It’s a beautiful house,” she acknowledged.
“Thanks. I’ll miss it.”
“Why did you leave?”
“We outgrew it, I guess. ‘Io’s ready for his own room, and I was ready to get out of my mom’s back garden. It’s a bit cramped for two big guys like us.”
“It’s big enough for Mia and me,” she said with a shrug.
His expression softened. “It’s a good place for a fresh start.”
“Yeah.” Laurie nodded, looking around the cozy space. “I think it is.”