Chapter 19 Laurie
Laurie
The moment she walked into the big kids’ classroom at New Horizons Community Center, Laurie knew that it was the right place for her daughter. Pualena Playschool met there five days a week, and it seemed to provide the perfect balance of structure and freedom.
The walls were covered in gorgeous, colorful murals, and the shelves were well stocked with art supplies.
Three kids lounged in the corner on beanbags, reading books.
Another trio was taking turns looking through a microscope in the corner.
The rest were still out on the playground, burning off some energy before coming inside.
Luckily for Laurie, the program was also affordable.
‘ōlena had offered her a discount on the condition that she chaperone the class outing every Thursday, and she was delighted to agree. She didn’t like being away from Mia even four days a week, but it would be better for her daughter to get plenty of time with other kids while she was working online and running the bookstore.
Laurie couldn’t afford to hire anyone, and spending weekends at the store with her mom was already plenty.
She hovered for a while, chatting with ‘ōlena and the other teacher, but eventually she waved goodbye to Mia and left them to it. When she left, Mia and Pete were working on a tiny clay village – and a comparatively enormous green dragon.
It was just a short walk from the community center to her soon-to-be bookshop.
Standing in the doorway of the old dance studio, Laurie felt a sense of awe at how quickly the space was coming together.
The floor was still open, but the bookshelves along the walls were complete. Laurie didn’t know how much Kekoa had spent on wood, because he refused to tell her. She insisted on assigning a portion of the profits to him as well; if he refused, she would just give it to his mother instead.
She walked the length of the space, running her fingertips along the polished wooden shelves. Now she just needed to fill them.
In addition to the bookcases that spanned the walls, Kekoa had constructed a beautiful counter near the front door. The top was one solid piece of wood with a front edge that still showed the natural curve of the tree. Variegated honey tones ranging from brown to gold curved across the surface.
The wall behind the counter had low cabinets built in, but above the level of the counter, the wall was empty. Kekoa’s cousin Lani was painting a small mural in the open space. She’d sketched native Hawaiian flora and fauna spilling out of an open book; Laurie loved it.
“Can I ask you a question?” Laurie asked when Lani paused to clean a brush.
“Shoot.”
“How much is Kekoa paying you?”
Lani gave her an odd look.
“He won’t tell me how much he spent on anything,” she explained. “I’m trying to keep track so that I can pay him back when this place is up and running.”
Lani set her brush aside and walked around to the front of the counter. She leaned against it, crossing her arms over the swell of her belly. Second trimester, Laurie guessed.
She was younger than any of the Aloha sisters – mid thirties, probably – but she carried herself with the poise and confidence of a woman who had survived a great deal without letting life make her bitter.
Laurie found herself wanting to get to know this person better – a rare sensation for her, introvert that she was.
“Auntie Mahina says that you’re in the middle of a divorce,” Lani said eventually.
Laurie blinked in surprise. She nodded.
“If Kekoa doesn’t want to tell you how much he’s spent, it’s because he doesn’t want you to have to carry the weight of owing him something.”
“Auntie Mahina won’t put a price on the rent, either,” Laurie admitted. “I don’t know how much to give her.”
“How much can you afford to give her?”
Laurie looked around at the empty bookshelves. “I’ll be lucky if I can even fill the shop without running out of savings. And that’s without paying rent.”
“So don’t pay rent,” Lani said.
“That doesn’t feel right.”
“If can, can,” Lani said with a smile. “If no can, no can.”
“But I could. If it weren’t for all this… insanity. It feels wrong to take advantage.”
“You’re accepting help from people who want to help you. That’s not the same as taking advantage of somebody.
“When I moved home to Pualena a couple years ago, I had nothing. And I mean nothing. I was just grateful that we made it out alive.” Lani put a hand on her belly and looked out the window.
A gold band glinted on her ring finger, and Laurie marveled at that evidence of trusting in love even after her near escape.
“I don’t know what I would have done without my family,” Lani continued.
“Auntie Mahina put us up for a while – my daughter and me – even though she had two kids and three grandkids living there at the time, and they really didn’t have room for us.
‘ōlena looked after my daughter, and Kekoa gave me a job at the shave ice place. After that, my cousin Emma gave me a place to live while I got back on my feet.”
“But that’s your family. Like, your actual blood family, right?”
Lani gave her another odd look. “Emma’s not blood; she was married to my cousin. But she’s family to me. She always will be.”
“I don’t know what I did to deserve all this,” Laurie said quietly, looking around.
“We all deserve community.” Lani perked up, dropping her serious expression in favor of something lighter. “And I, for one, am very excited to have a bookshop in town.”
“You can have all the books you like. No charge.”
“If you keep telling people that, how are you supposed to make a profit?”
“Tourists.”
Lani laughed. Then a thoughtful look came over her face. “Would you ever carry coloring books?”
“Sure, why not?”
She brightened. “I make coloring books!”
“Awesome!”
“I’ll bring some by next time.”
“I can stock them right up here by the counter, in front of your art.”
“See? This shop will be good for everybody.” Lani glanced at her watch. “Okay, I’ve got to clean up or I’ll be late picking up my kids.”
“Can I give you a hand?”
“Sure.”
Just after Lani left, Annie Oakley showed up bearing boxes of books.
“What’s this?” Laurie asked in surprise.
“Oakley went online the day you told us you were opening a bookshop,” Anne told her. “She loaded up on classics.”
“And if you ask me how much they cost,” Oakley added, “I’m throwing the thickest one at your head.”
She set a box down at Laurie’s feet, and Laurie crouched down to look through it. There were hardback copies of Little Women, The Secret Garden, Anne of Green Gables, and every book that Jane Austen had ever written. They were all in great condition, too.
“Oakley, this is amazing. Thank you.”
“The shop looks beautiful,” Anne said and signed.
Laurie looked in the box that Anne had carried in and found several copies of Hawaii’s Story by Hawaii’s Queen. Below them were a variety of books on native plants. There were Hawaiian dictionaries too.
Amazing! Laurie signed.
“I have a bunch of kids books in the car too,” Oakley told her.
“Are you trying to stock this whole store yourself?”
“You’ve got a lot of space to fill.”
“Is it too early to get some books on the shelves?” Anne asked. “Could we start setting up?”
“I don’t see why not,” Laurie said. “Kekoa’s building more shelves at his place, but I think he’s done with all of the woodwork that needed to happen here.”
“Your shop looks amazing.”
Laurie nodded and bit her lip. She looked around, trying to let this extraordinary thing that they were creating as a community eclipse her fear of it all being doomed.
“Does it feel scary?” Anne asked hesitantly. “Starting a business here when the custody stuff is still up in the air?”
“Yeah,” Laurie admitted. “It does. But what’s the alternative? Living in limbo, waiting for other people to tell me what my life will look like? If I don’t move forward and try to build something, I’ll lose my mind.”
“You’re putting roots down in Pualena. I love that.”
“I guess I am.” Laurie took a breath, letting it sink in. “I always felt like such an outsider here. It’s strange coming back after so many years and realizing that I have such a strong community.”
“You felt like an outsider?” Oakley repeated, looking confused.
“Well, yeah.”
“You grew up here!”
“Mostly.”
Oakley rolled her eyes.
“I’ve always felt like that.” Laurie knew that she shouldn’t push it; she shouldn’t goad her sister after she had just made such a nice gesture. But she wanted so badly to be understood that she couldn’t stop herself. “Oakley, I felt like that in our family too.”
“Seriously?” she demanded. “We learned a whole language for you! What more could we possibly do?”
“Ease up.” Anne put a hand on Oakley’s shoulder. “She’s just telling you how she felt.”
“Not everything is a personal attack,” Laurie added. “I never said it was your fault. You were kids too.”
“So who’s fault was it?” Oakley asked, still defensive.
“Nobody’s. Adoption is complicated.”
“You’re telling me? I’m the only one here who’s been on both sides of it!”
“Oakley, you’ve been a Kalama since you were a baby. I didn’t actually get adopted until I was eighteen.”
“So that plus the hearing loss…” Anne trailed off.
Laurie felt a flare of frustration, because it felt like a total non sequitur. But Anne was just trying to help, and she waited a moment for her irritation to pass rather than replying in anger.
She picked up a copy of Pride and Prejudice and set it on a high shelf.
“Maybe I would have felt that way regardless,” she mused. “Maybe it’s just my personality. I’m the Mary Bennet of the family.”
Oakley stepped into her field of vision and signed, You’re obviously J-A-N-E.
Laurie laughed. No way!
“You’re the most beautiful,” Oakley said and signed. “The quietest. Arguably the nicest… most of the time. So that makes you Jane.”
“Too bad I didn’t get my Bingley.”
“Yeah, well… neither did Austen. I’m not convinced that men like that exist in real life.”
“What about Noah?” Laurie teased, looking at Anne.
Oakley grinned. “I guess Anne’s our Jane.”
“No way! If I’m any of them, I’m Elizabeth.”
“You’re right,” Laurie said. “You’re too fiery to be Jane.”
“She scared her man off, just like Lizzie,” Oakley agreed.
“Only my story had a much longer timeline,” Anne said.
“Yeah, well, it’s not the year eighteen hundred,” said Oakley. “You’re not an old maid at twenty-seven.”
“Zoe’s twenty-seven,” Anne marveled.
“You know what that means, right?” Laurie asked.
What? her sisters signed in unison.
“We’re none of the sisters. We’re the same age as Mrs. Bennet.”
Oakley put a hand in front of her mouth. Shut up!
Laurie laughed and reached into the box for another book.
By the time they had unloaded all of the boxes of books that Oakley brought, they had made good progress towards filling the little bookshop.
Oakley hadn’t been joking about her collection of children’s books being enough to stock that section of the shop; her contribution made for an impressive selection for kids under eight.
The board books alone filled three big boxes.
“Are you sure you’re done with these?” Laurie asked.
“I always thought there might be more.” Oakley turned a book over in her hands with a look of naked longing, but then her expression took on the false brightness that she so often hid behind. “But I’m terrible at having babies, so here we are.”
“Do you ever think about fostering again?”
“I’d love to, but I’m pretty maxed out as it is. And Trent’s done. Like, done done. So. No more babies for me.”
Anne reached for her hand. “You have two perfect girls.”
“I do. And they’re much too big for board books.” Oakley pulled her hand back and kept stocking the shelves.
Laurie watched her for a moment, wondering how many babies her sister had lost. Oakley had only told the family about her first pregnancy and miscarriage… now Laurie got the feeling that there had been many more.
Oakley had been blind to Laurie’s struggles – but in that moment, Laurie realized that she had been equally ignorant of all that her big sister carried.
Neither of them had really been there for each other, because neither of them had been vulnerable enough to share what they were going through and give the other one the opportunity to show up.
Ever since her life fell apart, Oakley had made every effort to support her.
And how did Laurie respond? She just kept pushing her away.
Hey. Laurie waited for Oakley to look her in the eye. Then, with feeling, she signed, Thank you for all of this. I’m really grateful.
For a poignant moment, Oakley met her gaze and smiled.
Then she said, “You can thank me with coffee and cornettos from the cafe.”
“Deal.” Laurie stood and stretched. “Anne?”
“I’d love a latte and a pastry. Thank you.”
Laurie walked out into the hot summer day, letting the sun on her back erase the knots in her shoulders.
She was building something.
She had her family and her community behind her.
Everything was going to be okay.