Chapter 17 Laurie
Laurie
The first time that Mia visited Chris all on her own, Laurie felt sick with worry. Halia offered to drive, and she insisted that Laurie stay behind.
“At this stage,” she said, “no contact is the safest approach.”
Laurie hated sending Mia off without her, but she bowed to her eldest sister’s experience.
Running a women’s shelter, Halia had seen it all.
And after what happened on the day that she left, Laurie no longer had any real feeling of confidence that she could predict what Chris would do… or how far he might go.
Of course, that only fueled her fear for Mia. She didn’t think that Chris would hurt their daughter; he never had. Of course, he had never laid a hand on Laurie in anger… until he did.
Her bigger fear, the more plausible one, was that he would simply refuse to drive Mia home. At this stage in their separation, he had as much legal right to keep her as Laurie did.
Her logical mind knew that he wouldn’t actually want to care for Mia day after day, carting her around to work with him, but her fears seemed immune to logic. Night after night, she awoke from nightmares of Chris disappearing with their daughter… or worse.
In her nightmares, she threw herself in front of cars, in front of bullets – anything to keep her daughter safe.
When morning came, she tried to let the light of day dispel the worst imaginings of her conscious mind.
The dread that settled into her bones was harder to shake.
When it did come time for Mia to go, Laurie felt nauseous. She had waved her daughter off with the bravest face she could muster – but when Mia was gone, she didn’t know what to do with herself.
She tried to work, but her brain was fried. She couldn’t concentrate.
Finally she walked into town, just to try to shake off the anxiety that held her nervous system in a vice.
The Madeira place was on a lush, quiet side street. She walked along the side of the road in the shade of the tall bushes and trees that grew all along the edges of each property. She focused on little things – familiar flowers, saffron finches, mynah birds… and slowly, her soul began to settle.
She hadn’t started off with a specific destination in mind, but her feet took her to the old dance studio – her future bookshop. The storefront was the same, all scratched and peeling paint, but there was a new window in place of the jagged glass and plywood.
Kekoa’s truck was out front.
Inside, Kekoa was building bookshelves. When Laurie opened the door, he looked up with the slow calm of a man who has nothing to fear.
A huge smile overtook his face when he saw her.
“What do you think?” he asked.
The broken mirrors were gone. He’d also removed the low, old-fashioned ceiling to reveal the a-frame roof. The space felt so much bigger.
Wow, she signed. “It looks amazing.”
“It’s coming along. I’m starting with floor-to-ceiling shelves along the walls, and then you can decide what you want the shelves in between to look like, and the counter. I’ll draw up some possibilities later.”
“Thank you for doing this.”
Sure, he said casually.
Laurie stared at him. “Did you just… sign?”
He raised a fist and moved it in the affirmative: Yes.
“What… why… since when do you know ASL?”
I like to learn, he signed.
“But how…?”
“I downloaded an app. It’s fun.” He signed the last word.
“You’re picking it up quick.”
“It’s pretty easy. Intuitive.” He shrugged and picked up his hammer. “I was never great with words, but I’ve always been good with my hands.”
Heat rose to Laurie’s cheeks, and she went to prop the door open.
“I wish we could get an air conditioner to deal with the humidity,” she said.
“That’s expensive.” Again, he used the right sign.
Not only that, but he did it with such flourish that Laurie couldn’t help but laugh.
It was a funny one to begin with, like a pantomime of shelling out cash.
He even got the face right, which was something most people struggled with when they were learning ASL; they made the hand motions but completely left off the facial expressions that added so much to the tone of what was being said.
“I know,” she said and signed, still smiling. “I’ll have to settle for a dehumidifier or something.”
“As long as you keep the air moving, you should be good. I’ll put in a huge fan up in the middle of the ceiling. That should help.”
Laurie wanted to help, and she knew that he would let her… but she also knew that if she tried to help this expert carpenter, she would only be in the way.
The thought made her feel childish and inept, so she backed away.
“Thanks again.”
“I still have to build that bookshelf for your bedroom,” he said. “I haven’t forgotten.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. But I want to.” He gestured around their little bookshop in progress. “I just thought you would want this done first.”
She stared at him, at a loss for words. Finally, she said, “I’ll let you get back to work.”
He nodded but didn’t get back to it right away. His eyes stayed on her until she was out the door and past the window.
What now? she asked herself, faltering.
She hadn’t eaten yet.
Stress had ruined her appetite, possibly forever, but she knew that she should eat something. So she walked up to Main Street and over to Pualena Cafe.
Her whole family had been going there for brunch for as long as Laurie had known them. It was a special treat when she was little. For a family that almost never ate out, just getting some pancakes at the local diner felt like a big occasion.
Laurie had stopped going as an adult – it was a tired old place with oily food and greasy tables – until it came under new management a few years back.
Now the food was phenomenal. It was still a major splurge, like any restaurant on the island, but at least now the food was worth what she spent on it.
She slid into a free booth and got a fresh glass of orange juice to rehydrate after walking in the summer heat, but the food she ordered to go. When it was ready, she paid and carried the bag back around the corner to her bookshop in progress.
“Back already?” Kekoa asked with a grin.
“I thought you might like some lunch.” She hefted the big paper bag.
“Mahalo!” He put his tools down and signed Thank you.
Laurie looked around uncertainly. The whole space was covered in sawdust.
“Come on through,” Kekoa said, heading for the back door.
Laurie followed, picking her way around wooden boards and scattered tools.
Behind the building was an open space that she had never seen before. It was overgrown with tangled green vegetation, but that only made it more enchanting.
“There’s a whole secret garden back here!” she exclaimed.
Kekoa chuckled. “That’s a nice way of looking at it.”
“Could we make this into a reading area?”
“Technically it belongs to the house next door.” Kekoa pointed to the little wooden house that sat just past the old dance studio. “Auntie Kua owns both, but the house has tenants. Doesn’t look like they use the space, though, so you could talk to them.”
“And Kua,” she said thoughtfully. “See what she says. Even if we put a fence down the middle, there’s plenty of space for a bench and some chairs, spots to read. Mia could do her schoolwork back here while I work the front desk.”
That’s a good dream, Kekoa said.
Flustered again, Laurie found an open space in the shade and sat down with her back to the wall. She opened the bag and pulled out two paper-wrapped sandwiches and held them out.
“Bacon and egg or pesto chicken?”
“Half and half?” he suggested.
She nodded and handed him one at random. He sat down, and they each unwrapped a sandwich.
“Do you drink coffee?” she asked.
Sure, he signed with his mouth full.
“Good.” She fished the glass bottle out of the bag. “I got you an iced coffee.”
“You don’t drink coffee?” he guessed.
“Not lately. My nerves can’t take it. I got a bottle of cane juice.”
Delicious, he signed.
Every sign brought on another burst of amazement. So few people in her life had ever bothered to study ASL – and when they did, they learned maybe half a dozen signs before losing interest.
“You seriously just started?” she asked.
“Just started what?”
ASL, she signed.
Y-E-S, he signed back.
“Now you’re just showing off.”
Kekoa winked and signed, Maybe.
Laurie laughed.
“You have a great laugh.”
Immediately her mood plummeted. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t flirt.”
“I wasn’t–”
“Would you say that to another guy?” she asked, cutting him off.
He looked at her for a moment and then signed a reluctant No.
“Then don’t say it to me.”
OK, he agreed.
“And stop trying to charm me with ASL,” she ordered – but her smile was creeping back, and she couldn’t make herself sound serious.
“I really do like it. ‘Iolani’s been getting into it too.”
“I won’t tell you not to learn sign language–”
“Good,” he teased, “because I don’t give up that easy.”
“–but don’t flirt with me,” she continued, serious again. “You’re a good friend, Kekoa, and we’re already business partners. But that’s it. That’s all I’m available for.”
“I hear you,” he said, and signed, I understand.
“Friends?” she asked, showing him the sign.
He set his coffee aside to copy her. Friend. OK.
Good. She picked her sandwich up and ate mechanically. She wasn’t hungry, but she had at least relaxed enough to be able to get the food down.
She felt safe with him, she realized with sudden gratitude. She was glad that he had accepted the boundary. Probably he wasn’t even flirting to begin with – growing up together, they were basically cousins – but it was good to keep things clear.
They were friends.
And friends – real community – was something that she needed very much.