11. Laurie
Laurie
Laurie awoke to wooden slats above her head and felt a moment’s confusion. It was dark as a cave, with only the faintest morning light coming in through the window. The lush green garden of the Madeira place was so different from the direct sunlight that she was used to.
She slipped out of bed to check on Mia in the top bunk.
Her daughter was still sound asleep. She was breathing peacefully, her chubby little fingers sticking out between the polished branches that bordered her bed.
Not so little anymore, Laurie corrected herself, putting her hand beneath her daughters. Mia’s hands were still childlike, but her fingers would be as long as Laurie’s in a few years time.
It was strange to think of a day when her daughter would be the same size as she was – or even taller.
Laurie tiptoed out of the room in her bare feet, stepped out onto the lanai, and breathed in the cool morning air. Surrounded by flowers and green growing things, she felt a deep sense of peace.
The sun was still low, and the entire overcast sky shone a spectral shade of lilac. The deep green foliage of the garden was a balm to her soul, a tranquil landscape dotted with gorgeous pops of color.
A movement caught her eye, and she was unsurprised to see Mahina out in her vegetable patch, pulling weeds before the day got too hot. Laurie wound her way through the orchard to greet her.
“Good morning, Auntie.”
She looked up with a start. “Good morning! You’re up early.”
Laurie looked at the pile of weeds that Mahina had collected in a broad, flat basket. She asked, “Can I help?”
Mahina said something in reply, but she was looking down and away as she brushed the dirt from her hands and plucked a caterpillar off of her tomatoes.
“I can only understand you if you look at me when you speak,” Laurie reminded her.
“Oh!” Mahina looked up again. “I’m sorry. You really want to help?”
She nodded.
“Help me pull up all the grass that’s sprouted in here. It grows so fast I can hardly keep up with it all. Once we’ve gotten most of it out–” Mahina looked away again, already forgetting – but Laurie had gotten the gist of it.
“Pull out the grass sprouts. Got it.”
Mahina said something as she bent to pick up her basket. Then she caught herself and turned to face Laurie.
“I’m going to take these to the chickens,” she repeated. “You can always give them your kitchen scraps too. Or toss them in the compost pile, just there.”
Laurie nodded. When Mahina walked away, Laurie knelt in the woodchips in her flannel pants and pulled grass from the nearest garden bed. She grasped each slender blade near its base and pulled up as much of the root system as she could.
Mahina came back after a while and they worked in companionable silence, pulling weeds together as the day grew brighter.
Suddenly Mahina looked up with a start. She looked at Laurie and said, “Your daughter is shouting for you.”
Laurie almost laughed at the look of confusion on her face. “Sorry, I should have put my hearing aids in. If I do that, I can usually hear her when she shouts.”
She stood and brushed the dirt off of her hands.
“Thank you for helping me,” Mahina said.
“Thanks for letting me.” Laurie walked back through the orchard and waved to Mia. “Here I am!”
“I woke up and you were gone!” Mia said and signed. She was extra dramatic with the sign for gone, which could also mean dead.
Sorry, Laurie apologized. “I was helping Auntie Mahina in the garden.”
“Don’t do that!” Mia commanded, stomping her foot.
“You want me to be here when you wake up?” Laurie clarified.
“Yes!”
“Okay. I’m sorry.” She opened her arms, and Mia rushed in for a hug.
“What should we do today?”
Mia stepped back and asked, Can I help in the garden too?
“I don’t see why not. Should we eat some breakfast first?”
“Can I have waffles?”
“Auntie Annie set the bar high, huh? Let me see what I can do…”
Anne had loaded her up on groceries on move-in day, so her little kitchen was already well stocked. She pulled out the mini waffle maker and whipped up some batter. When the waffles were golden brown, she topped them with local honey and bananas from the garden.
Mia helped her and Mahina in the garden for a while – but then all four of Mahina’s grandkids arrived, and suddenly Mia was up a tree again.
Laurie smiled as she watched her daughter climb, free as a wild monkey.
She felt grateful that even when Mia wasn’t living on the same property as her cousins, she was still surrounded by local ‘cousins’.
The village aspect of Pualena was something that Laurie had missed fiercely once she became a mother.
We need to walk to the store, she told Mia after lunch.
Walk? Mia signed with exaggerated dread. Too far!
Laurie laughed. “It’s not that far.”
“Can’t I stay here with Auntie Mahina? I want to play with my friends.”
She hesitated.
Please? Please please please please?
“Okay, okay, I’ll ask her.”
After she had washed the dishes, Laurie walked up to the main house. Mahina sat on the back porch with Uncle Manō and two of their grown children.
“Aloha, Laurie!” ‘ōlena said. “Long time no see!”
“Aloha,” Laurie said diffidently, looking up at them.
Kekoa grinned at her, but she kept her eyes on Mahina.
It felt intrusive, interrupting their conversation to ask a favor – especially on her first day. But Mahina had called her family, and Laurie wanted to believe her. She wanted to feel comfortable taking up space in the world again.
“Everything okay with your new place?” Mahina asked.
“Yes, all good,” Laurie said quickly. “I just need to run an errand, and Mia’s wondering if she can stay here with the other kids.”
Mahina frowned, and Laurie’s stomach twisted. Had she overstepped?
“You’re walking to town?” Mahina asked.
“Yes.”
“In this heat?”
Laurie’s anxiety eased up, and she smiled. “I don’t mind the heat.”
“Kekoa can drive you.”
“No,” she protested. “It’s fine, really.”
“It’s no trouble,” Mahina insisted. Her son was already on his feet.
“You don’t have to,” Laurie told him.
“I need to run to the hardware store anyway. Come on.”
Laurie caught Mia’s eye across the yard and signed, I’ll be right back.
OK! Mia ran to catch up with ‘ōlena’s girls.
Kekoa opened the passenger-side door for her and gave her a hand up into the cab of his truck. When he climbed in behind the wheel, he didn’t start it up right away. They were parked in the shade of the carport with the windows open, so the cab wasn’t the death trap it might have been otherwise.
Kekoa turned to face her and asked, “You don’t have a car?”
Laurie shook her head.
“You need a car.”
She shrugged. “My family’s not far away, and I work online. I can get by.”
“You need a car. I’ll help you find one.”
He drove down the road and turned onto Paradise, then drove towards town at an easy pace. Just before they hit Main Street, he pulled to the side and parked… right in front of the old dance studio.
Laurie looked at him in surprise. “Kekoa…”
He grinned big, showing off his perfect teeth. “Just come see.”
Before she could say anything else, he was out the door. He circled around the front of the truck, opened her door, and offered her a hand. She hesitated, then put her hand in his and accepted help down from the truck.
Laurie was not a small woman. She was slender, but taller than most men. Her fine-boned fingers were usually longer than theirs.
Kekoa’s hand absolutely dwarfed hers, and she marveled at how safe she felt alone with a man who could snap her like a sapling. She so rarely felt at ease around men, regardless of their size. But with Kekoa, she felt… protected.
She brushed the feeling away. He was a decent guy, and she had known him all her life. It was the same with her dad and with Uncle Manō. She had forgotten what real community felt like, living alone with Chris for so many years.
Laurie followed Kekoa into the shade of the building, and she was shocked when he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.
“Where did you get that?” she exclaimed.
“I told you, it’s owned by an old auntie here in town. I told her that I wanted to take a look at the place. She grinned so big when I suggested a bookshop. Come on.”
Inside, the place was dismal. Behind the boards, the old window was just a few shards of jagged glass. The mirrors were broken too, and pieces of them still littered the floor. They glinted and glared in the light that came in through the door.
She looked up at the water stains on the ceiling, and Kekoa tapped her shoulder.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said when she looked at him. “Me and my dad can fix all that.”
Laurie nodded and looked around the space again.
It was a decent size – big enough to fit a reasonably large selection of well-curated books. The wooden floor was scratched and stained, but it looked solid enough. They probably could fix the space up without breaking the bank.
“Noah could help,” she murmured thoughtfully.
Kekoa tilted his head. “Are you two pretty tight?”
She nodded. “He’s like a big brother to me. Always has been.”
“Right. Good.” He looked away, but looked straight at her before speaking again. “He’s a good worker. He’d make quick work of this too, if you don’t want our help.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“What did you mean?”
“I just… your family has helped me so much already. You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.” He paused, watching her closely. “I’d like to invest.”
Laurie just stared at him, stunned.
“We could call it Paradise Books. You know, ‘cause it’s on Paradise Road?” He paused again, his face dropping. “You hate it.”
“I don’t hate it. I just…” She looked around again. “It’s a big job.”
“It wouldn’t cost too much to get this place off the ground. Some basic repairs, some bookshelves. Easy.”
“We could stock it with mostly used books,” she mused. “Maybe some new books on consignment from local authors.”
“I like the way you think.”
“Do you really think we could do this?”
“I know we can. Our generation is putting Pualena back on the map. You saw what Tenn Nakamura did with the diner, right? And my sister totally revamped the community center. The Thai place is always packed, and so is my shave ice place.”
She looked at him in shock. “You own Haumona Shave Ice?”
“You don’t have to look so surprised,” he teased.
“I’m not, I just… that place is great.”
Kekoa grinned. “Thanks.”
“Who did your mural?”
“That was my cousin Lani.”
“You think she would paint one here?”
“I know she would.”
Laurie slowly turned three hundred and sixty degrees.
She pictured bookshelves filling the empty space and a counter up front with a big mural behind it. She imagined Mia reading in a cozy chair in the corner, chatting with other kids who came in looking for books.
“Okay,” she said, meeting Kekoa’s eyes. “Let’s give it a try.”