Chapter 5 Akemi
Akemi
Pulling up to her childhood home for the first time since her dad’s funeral, Akemi felt every emotion all at once. Grief and joy were at the forefront, each so strong that they canceled each other out, leaving her almost numb.
It had been a long, grueling couple of months – and then an exhausting couple of days getting here.
Her budget-friendly route from Florence to Hilo had taken more than thirty hours.
On the plus side, her transatlantic flight had been in a seat that laid completely flat.
Thank goodness for credit card points – but even those were dwindling these days. Not unlike her bank account.
It seemed like this entire up and coming generation wanted to be influencers. The travel blog and audience that she had spent years growing just wasn’t pulling in the same deals that it used to, and openings for travel writing jobs were few and far between.
“You okay?” the driver asked, and Akemi realized that they had been parked in front of the house for a while. “This the right place?”
“Yes. Fine. Thank you.” She smiled apologetically, grabbed her backpack, and hauled it out of the back seat.
Halia’s car was parked out front, and that made her feel a bit better.
Akemi wasn’t ready to face Dawn on her own, not today. Ever since they’d lost Kimo, talking to their mom was like approaching a black hole of despair. Stay too long, and it was sure to suck you in.
She spotted Oakley’s van in the car port and grinned at the prospect of seeing two of her nieces. Missing out on huge chunks of their lives was the hardest part of her itinerant lifestyle, and she loved them like they were her own.
At least… she thought she did.
She’d find out the truth of that soon enough.
The wood of the lanai echoed hollowly as she tromped up the steps, carrying most everything she owned on her shoulders.
She still had a few things stored at the house, but mostly she had distilled all of her worldly possessions into a single carry-on sized backpack. And she liked it that way… but she wasn’t fool enough to think that she’d be able to keep going like that for much longer.
The house was filled with the warm smells of tom kha gai and fried spring rolls. Akemi was surprised to see two redheads at the table; she’d had no idea that Anne was home from the mainland. Seeing Halia, Anne, and Oakley all together was simultaneously comforting and overwhelming.
There was a moment of quiet surprise when she first walked in, and then she was surrounded.
The kids got to her first, nearly toppling her and her heavy backpack.
She let it fall from her shoulders, then threw her arms around the two nearest kids.
Anne and Oakley piled on, turning the whole thing into a massive group hug.
When they finally released her, Halia was waiting with a bowl full of white rice and green curry. Akemi had made it through the assault of affection just fine, but that one small act of care brought tears to her eyes.
“Welcome home, baby sister.” Halia’s eyes creased with affection.
Aside from some silver in her black hair, her eldest sister looked the same as she ever had. She was a full decade older than Akemi, and she had been like a second mother to her growing up.
Halia was equipped with broad shoulders, a strong jaw, and the personality to match her intimidating appearance. She was a rock of stalwart support for the people she loved, and an immovable object in the path of anyone who tried to do them harm.
Akemi gave her a fierce hug, then let go and accepted the food. She was suddenly starving. Everyone else came back to the table, kids chattering as they settled in to eat. It was comforting and overwhelming all at once.
A hush fell over them as Dawn came downstairs, and a jolt of shock went through Akemi at the sight of her. A skunk stripe of silver ran through the center of her water-dark hair, and there were deep lines carved into her face. She looked as though she had aged thirty years in the past three months.
“Sit here, Mom.” Halia stood and made room for her at the head of the table. “I saved you a bowl of soup.”
Oakley grabbed another chair for Halia and pushed the kids closer together to make room. Conversation started up again, quieter than before. Dawn silently spooned soup in her mouth, at once the epicenter of the family and her own separate island.
“Where did you go this time, Auntie?” Claire asked from across the table.
Akemi washed her food down with a swig of the POG juice that Anne had poured for her and answered, “I just got back from Italy.”
“Ooh!” Claire’s silver-gray eyes went wide. “Where in Italy?”
“Knowing Akemi, probably all of it,” Oakley quipped. She was decked out in expensive athleisure, blonde hair pulled up into a sporty ponytail.
“Just Tuscany this time.”
“Only a tour of the Tuscan countryside.”
“Are you gonna write about it?” Claire asked.
“I write about everywhere that I go.”
“What about a vlog?”
Akemi’s nose wrinkled involuntarily. She missed the days of telling a story with photos, but she did her best to keep up with the times, and the times called for video content. “I’ll make some reels.”
“Your reels are pretty, Auntie, but you should be in them more! You’re so cute!”
“It’s probably hard to film yourself when you’re alone,” Anne said. “I’d be terrified of somebody stealing my phone.”
“I’m sure there was no shortage of handsome Italians willing to help with that,” Oakley teased.
Akemi gritted her teeth together and spooned up another bite of curry.
Her sisters thought that her life was a lark. They had no idea how many thousands of hours she had put into writing articles, editing videos, and going back and forth with brands and hotels and tourism boards…
It was a full-time job and then some.
She was contemplating a second bowl of curry when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and then hurried outside, silently cursing her forgetfulness.
“Hey,” she answered as she shut the kitchen door behind her. “I got home safe. Sorry, I meant to text you.”
“Ciao bella!” The warm sound of Lorenzo’s voice flooded through her, smoothing the frayed edges of her nervous system.
Akemi wandered towards the cliffs, relishing the familiar sound of crashing waves. Beyond her childhood backyard, the vast Pacific glimmered in the moonlight.
“It’s early there,” she said.
“Yes, I leave for work soon. First I wanted to call and ask how you are feeling.”
“I’m feeling fine, Ren.” Her voice was colored with both tenderness and exasperation. “Same as yesterday.”
“And have you spoken to your family yet?”
“Sure.” She kicked at a loose piece of lava rock. “Lots of speaking. They’re constantly speaking. Never shut up.”
“Have you told them?”
She took a deep breath of the salty air. “Not yet.”
“Why, amore?” The word made her pulse jump, but she steeled herself against it.
To Italians, every woman they passed in the street was amore.
It didn’t mean anything.
“My mom’s not herself,” Akemi told him. “Most of my sisters are here, plus their kids. It’s just… not the right time.”
“It sounds like the perfect time,” he encouraged her. “You can tell most of your family all at once, and the news will make your mamma happy again.”
“I don’t think anything will make my mom happy again.”
“Amore, do not talk that way. Nothing is forever. Her grief will get smaller with time.” When she didn’t reply he added, “This is good news.”
“It is good news,” she agreed, “but I’m not sure they’ll see it that way.”
“Ma perche?” he exclaimed.
“You live in Italy. I live everywhere and nowhere. I’m not going to quit traveling just because I have a baby. They’re not going to like that. Any of that.”
“They love you,” Lorenzo said softly. “They’ll understand.”
“Those two things don’t always go hand in hand. Almost never, actually. In my experience.”
“Maybe the understanding comes later. But they cannot understand you if you don’t communicate, amore mia.”
A cool breeze from the mauna whipped past, stirring her unwashed hair and the peasant skirt she’d been wearing for three days straight.
The plan had been to slip in and take a shower, get something to eat, and get a decent night’s sleep before breaking the news to her family.
Well, at least they’d fed her.
Maybe she should just get it over with.
“I should go back inside,” she said. “Have a good day at work.”
“Have a good night, vita mia.”
Akemi switched her phone into airplane mode and dropped it into her pocket.
She didn’t go into the house right away. Instead she stood staring out over the back fence, one hand resting on the baby bump that was still imperceptible to anyone but her.
The app on her phone claimed that her baby was now the size of an avocado. Given her own diminutive stature, it was probably a puny avocado. Still, the life growing inside of her was old enough to make a fist or suck their thumb. A real, actual baby.
It still shocked her, how fiercely she loved this seed of a person she’d never even seen. As the years ticked by, the possibility of becoming a mother herself had felt more and more remote. She figured that, like Halia, she would content herself with being an auntie.
Then this.
This miraculous surprise.
From the moment Akemi realized that she was expecting, she’d wanted this baby with her whole heart.
She had doubts, of course. Mountains of them. But those doubts were about her own capacity, the countless decisions that she would have to make on behalf of this brand new person.
Whether or not she actually wanted this baby? Whether she loved them already, beyond all reason… that had never even been a question.
Akemi blinked, really seeing the ocean in front of her for the first time since hanging up the phone. This gorgeous view had been the backdrop of her childhood, and sometimes she was blind to it when she had so much on her mind.
She had to make a point of really looking, rooting herself in the present and seeing the dark cliffs and sparkling ocean.
The crash of waves soothed her. It was a sound closer to her heart and soul than any childhood lullaby.
She walked into the kitchen just as Dawn was shuffling off towards the stairs.
“Mom, wait.” She reached a hand out, speaking without thinking.
Dawn turned to her, and Akemi saw a flicker of worry beneath the cloud of suffocating grief that was smothering her mother.
A new possibility sparked in her mind.
Their mom loved babies. Like, madly truly beyond-all-reason loved them.
Was there any chance that the promise of new life could outshine the grief that was dragging her under?
It was worth a shot.
“Mom, everybody…” Akemi took a few steps forward, glancing between her mom and her sisters. “I have some news.”