Chapter 24 Laurie
Laurie
“I understand that neither of you are fully happy with this agreement,” said the mediator, “but that’s the nature of compromise. You can revisit and adjust things as necessary as your daughter grows, but the important thing is to provide her with a sense of safety and stability now.”
By some miracle, the man had maneuvered Chris into a custody agreement. Laurie had helped the process along by making financial concessions left and right in favor of more time with her daughter.
The mediator had talked a great deal about the process of going in front of a judge – the long wait times, the expense, the complete lack of control – and finally Chris had agreed to allow Laurie to homeschool their daughter.
They would have joint legal custody, and he would have the right to however many weekends he chose to claim each month.
It was the best that Laurie could reasonably hope for.
She had seen enough of the court system second-hand to understand how difficult it was for one parent to get full custody.
Judges consistently valued the rights of a parent over the wellbeing of their child.
Barring life-threatening danger to the kids, both parents were entitled to fifty percent custody.
If she continued to fight, there was no guarantee that she would even get her daughter five days per week; if she made Chris angry again, it could just as easily go the other way, with the court mandating that Mia return to school in Hawi and be allowed weekend visitation with her mother.
Realistically, this was the best possible outcome.
But it still tasted like defeat.
Eight full days a month was more time than Chris had ever spent with Mia when they lived in the same house, and it was far more time than Laurie had ever spent away from her daughter.
Mia wasn’t a baby anymore, Laurie reminded herself. They would be together most of the time. They would make it through.
Chris probably wouldn’t come down every single weekend anyway, she told herself. He hated the drive. She had specifically requested that they each pick Mia up – meaning he would drive down to Pualena on Friday afternoons, and Laurie would drive up to Hawi on Sundays.
She had also specified that plans be solidified every week by the end of the day on Wednesday. Either Chris would pick Mia up from her program at New Horizons Community center that Friday, or Laurie would.
Laurie had spent countless Sundays out on the front steps, waiting for her mother to show up for their weekly visitation. She wouldn’t put her daughter through the same.
And if he did decide that Mia was worth his time, well… their daughter deserved to have two parents who showed up for her. Laurie would gladly sacrifice that time if it meant a better childhood for her little girl. That was all she really wanted.
They signed the papers, and that was that.
Laurie was officially divorced.
She didn’t feel the elation of freedom that she had imagined might come when this mess was over. She didn’t even feel relieved.
Instead, she felt a quiet grief for her daughter.
This broken family wasn’t what she had wanted for Mia. But it was the best that she could do. All she wanted now was to get home to her.
Dawn had loaned Laurie her car for the day, and she drove straight home to Pualena. She got back in time to pick Mia up from the community center. Sitting in the parking lot, she texted Anne to say that she had pick-up covered.
Soon, all of the kids spilled out onto the playground.
Laurie sat in the car for a moment, watching Mia run hand in hand with her cousin. All of Mahina’s grandkids were there too, and before long the kids were all linked in one undulating line; they were playing their favorite variation of tag.
Laurie felt a sudden rush of gratitude. Mia had a village. Whatever upheavals her daughter had experienced that summer, they were balanced out by the beautiful community that they had in Pualena.
Even if Chris picked her up every Friday for a weekend of cartoons and junk food, this would be the bulk of Mia’s childhood. This right here. Running free with her friends across the green grass, with one of Pualena’s omnipresent rainbows arcing over their heads.
Her daughter’s childhood would be full of quality time with her mother, plenty of play with her peers, quiet afternoons at the bookshop, and dinners with their whole extended family.
Laurie held that vision tight. She would pull it out and dust it off whenever she was missing Mia on the weekend… or whenever she began to feel like she was falling short as a mother.
She stepped out of the car, and Mia raced to greet her.
Can my friends come over? she asked quickly.
Laurie grinned. Hello to you too.
Please? Can they come play?
Which friends? Laurie asked.
Mia fingerspelled the names of ‘ōlena’s two daughters: L-U-L-U and K-I-K-I.
That’s fine with me, if their mom says yes.
She said yes! Mia signed enthusiastically. She’s taking their baby brother home for a nap, but they can come with us to their grandma’s house.
OK, Laurie signed, and Mia ran off to tell her friends.
Laurie double-checked with ‘ōlena. Then, after Pete caught up with what was happening, she texted Anne to tell her that she would be borrowing him as well. After that, she drove the whole lot of them down to the Madeira place and set them loose in the orchard.
Before long, Mahina’s grandson joined the pack. ‘Iolani was between ‘ōlena’s girls in age. For some reason, he wasn’t a part of the co-op; he went to the local elementary school. But nearly every afternoon, he could be found on his grandparents’ land, running around with his cousins.
A sense of peace settled over Laurie as she walked up the path to her little cedar house. She had a home of her own. A sanctuary for just her and Mia, with no angry man they had to tiptoe around. She had plenty to be thankful for.
Kekoa waved at her as he walked out of the big house.
You found a car! he signed.
No, she signed back. “It’s my mom’s.”
“I’ve been looking,” he said as he came closer, “but so far it’s nothing but lemons.”
“It’s fine. I don’t have money for a car anyway.”
“Spent all your money on books, huh?”
“Actually, yeah.”
“We’ll find something.”
She shook her head. “I can walk to the bookshop and the community center and my mom’s house. I can borrow my mom’s car when I really need one. I’m okay.”
“We’ll find something,” he insisted. “Sooner or later.”
OK, she relented. Thanks.
“I have something to show you,” he said, and then signed, Let’s go.
She hesitated a moment and looked around for Mia. Then she spotted her walking through the garden with a chicken in her arms.
Laurie chuckled and followed Kekoa through the car port.
He led her to his truck and showed her a big piece of wood in the back. Carved into it were the words Paradise Books.
What do you think? he signed.
“It’s perfect,” Laurie told him. “Thank you.”
“We’re really doing this.” He grinned. “I’ve tossed around a lot of business ideas in my life. But of all the things I thought I might build or be, silent partner in a book store wasn’t one of them.”
You’re not really silent, she teased.
“I am now. I’m done with my part of the job. Shelves are in. Once the sign’s up, that’s it for me. You’ll only see me in there if you need something fixed. Or if ‘Io needs a new book. Or if I happen to be in town.”
“You’re always in town!” she said, and they both laughed.
“I mean it,” he said after a moment. “Jokes aside, this is your project. I was just the contractor.”
“Just the contractor who found the space and negotiated the lease and built the entire bookshop.”
He grinned. “I’m a great contractor.”
“You are. Thank you.”
“Anytime.”