Chapter 20 Halia
Halia
Hawaii county’s annual island-wide spelling bee was held in Kona, and the entire family showed up to support Mia. Being near Laurie’s husband made Halia’s skin crawl, but she kept her expression neutral and her tone civil.
Chris was the same as always: coldly handsome, charming when he chose to be.
Halia had been suspicious of him from the beginning…
but at that point in her life, she still had such a generalized dislike and mistrust of men that the family hadn’t taken her seriously.
She’d even doubted herself, wondering if she was seeing red flags where there weren’t any.
Laurie was happy, and that was all that mattered.
But the man’s charisma had faded quickly once he’d achieved his goal. Once they were married, he stopped trying to charm the family – stopped giving them any time at all, in fact.
Laurie seemed content enough, focused on her studies and her work, and then on motherhood. It was only recently that their brilliant sister had started to shrink into herself.
Or maybe it had started years prior to that, and they had been too caught up in their own lives to notice until the change in their sister was glaringly obvious.
Dawn was cordial to Laurie’s husband, buffering her daughters and engaging in small talk so they didn’t have to. Meanwhile, Oakley and Akemi and Anne all surrounded Laurie, smothering her with words of love and good cheer.
It looked as if that was all a bit much for their introverted sister. She pulled her dark purple shawl tight around her shoulders and turned away, letting the wide halo of her curls shield her face from her sisters’ scrutiny.
As usual, she dealt with her overstimulating family by focusing her attention on her daughter, who was both excited and anxious about the competition.
Mia took her place on the auditorium stage and spelled one word after another, standing strong as the competition fell away. Her fingers moved through the ASL letters of each word as she spoke them aloud, grinning down at her mom.
The age limit on the competition went all the way up to seventeen, and the whole family clapped and cheered as Mia outspelled highschoolers twice her age.
She made it into the final five contestants before finally stumbling over ‘imbroglio’. Laurie watched with her hands clasped beneath her chin, like she was holding herself back from throwing the answer out across the stage.
“I knew that word!” Mia said afterwards. She looked up at her mother and signed with quick, agitated movements. “I just forgot to say the g. But I knew it! We practiced that one, remember?”
“It’s okay,” Laurie told her. “You did great.”
Pete said, “You were way younger than anybody else in the top five! I couldn’t have spelled any of those words! You did so good!”
Mia sniffed and swiped at her tears.
Laurie stepped forward and wiped the little girl’s face more thoroughly with the corner of her shawl.
“It was so brave of you to go up there with all those big kids,” Anne told their niece.
“You’ll get them next year,” Oakley said.
“You did great this year,” Dawn added, rubbing her granddaughter’s back, “and that deserves celebration.”
“Yeah, great.” Chris rolled his eyes. “Participation trophies all around.”
Anne fixed him with a look that could freeze lava.
Dawn ignored him entirely and continued speaking straight to Mia.
“I think we have just enough time to get some loco mocos to go and take them down to the beach for sunset. Sound good?”
Mia looked from her grandmother to her parents. “Can we?”
“Nope,” Chris said. “Sorry, kid. Some other time. I’ve got a job to get to, and there’s plenty of food at home.”
“I can give them a ride home after,” Halia said.
Mia clasped her hands beneath her chin. “Please, Daddy?”
Chris gave Laurie a hard look.
She crouched down to tie one of Mia’s shoes, averting her face and avoiding her husband’s gaze.
It seemed that even he wasn’t impervious to Mia’s pleading brown eyes, because eventually he backed down.
“Fine. But I want her in bed by nine. It’s been a long day.”
Mia joyously joined her cousins in Oakley’s car to drive straight to the beach while Halia and Dawn stopped at their favorite Kona-side restaurant for hibiscus tea and loco mocos.
Unlike burgers, which had buns that tended to disintegrate when packaged for any length of time, this local staple held up just fine.
The Kalamas were loyal to one family-run place in particular, because the rice was always fresh and the gravy was made from scratch; they even used island-grown beef for the patties.
They met the rest of the family at a local beach that was accessed by way of a lava-rock trail, hidden away past the harbor.
Huge sea turtles lounged here and there along the long, thin strip of sand that ran up the coastline.
The kids were in the water, jumping between rocks and splashing through the shallows.
“I’d like to say a few words,” Dawn said once they were all gathered. “It’s your Dad’s birthday tomorrow–” Here her voice caught, and Oakley put an arm around her. “–and I want to thank all of you for helping me through a grief that might have drowned me otherwise.
“Kalama means light,” she said to her daughters as the children drifted closer, “like a flaming torch. Your grandmother and your father have both passed on, but each and every one of you carry that light forward.”
“Grandpa would be so proud of you,” said Akemi to Mia as she joined the circle. She looked around to include the other cousins. “Of all of you kids.”
“And all of you girls,” Dawn said, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “He always was, and he always will be.”
Most of the sisters were crying now; even Zoe had tears flowing openly down her cheeks. But Dawn shook her head and wiped the tears away from her own face.
“No more of that,” she said briskly. “Kimo hated to see his girls cry.”
“He’d do anything to hear us laugh,” Oakley agreed. “Remember when I was heartbroken over my first boyfriend, and Dad came out wearing Tutu’s old robe, with a towel wrapped around his head? He pretended to be an auntie and gave us all a talking to.”
Anne smiled through her tears and said, “I laughed so hard, I got stitches in my side.”
Their grief eased as they continued to share happy memories of Kimo. They spread out a picnic blanket, and Akemi launched into a story about one of the many family camping trips their dad had taken them on.
They settled onto the sand and broke out the loco mocos.
Halia sat slightly off to one side, savoring her food as she watched the sun slip past the horizon. Her sisters’ voices blended with the gentle sound of water moving against the shore, and a deep peace settled over her.
The sky shone pink and orange and purple for a good while after the sun was gone. But eventually the day faded away, and the kids came shivering in search of towels.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” Mia said through blue lips.
“How about a camping trip?” Halia signed with broad movements and hoped that she was getting the words right.
She’d never really had the knack for ASL, not like her younger sisters, but she knew that it would be difficult for Laurie to read her lips in the growing dark.
“Let’s take all the grandkids camping soon, to one of the beaches where we used to camp with dad. ”
“I’d love that,” Laurie agreed. She cast a worried glance at Mia. “I don’t know if we can make it happen, though.”
“We’ll find a way,” Halia said.
There was chaos in the parking lot as the mothers got their kids into dry clothes and figured out who was riding in which car.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive Laurie home?” Oakley asked Halia. “It’s so far out of your way.”
“I don’t mind,” she said. “You get your girls home to bed.”
“They do have to get up early tomorrow,” she fretted.
“Better get going.”
“Okay, okay.” Oakley threw her arms around Halia and hugged her tight, then moved into the other goodbyes.
“I can fit two more in my car,” said Anne, “but someone will need to ride with Halia.”
“I’ll go.” Zoe headed off any argument by climbing into the back of Halia’s car, leaving the front seat for her Auntie Laurie.
With the seats all sorted, they drove north along Queen Ka‘ahumanu Highway. Mia was quiet without her cousins around, and Laurie wasn’t in a talking mood either. Halia didn’t mind; she had no trouble sitting in silence, with or without other people. Zoe was the same.
The lights were on at Laurie’s place.
Halia was sad to see that neither mother nor daughter looked excited to get home, but she tried not to put too much weight on it. Mia might still be disheartened by her slip-up at the spelling bee, and Laurie must be tired after the commotion of the day.
“Thank you for driving us,” Laurie said, already halfway out the door. “Do you need anything? Water, bathroom?”
“I’m fine,” Halia said. “Zoe?”
She shook her head.
A few quick hugs, and then they were down to two.
Zoe moved to the front seat, and they began their two-hour drive south. It was a long trek, especially in the dark, but she wanted to make sure that Laurie knew that Halia would gladly make the drive anytime day or night if they needed her.
“Oakley’s worried about her,” Zoe said out of the blue. They had already been driving for some time, and Halia’s thoughts had moved on to a particular family at the shelter. It took her a moment to realize who she meant.
“Your Auntie Laurie?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s a grown woman,” Halia said levelly, “and a strong one.”
“But is she happy?”
“Is anyone?”
Zoe gave her a puzzled look. “Aren’t you?”
“I’m content.”
“Okay, whatever. Is Auntie Laurie content?”
“Content enough, I suppose. Or she’d make a change.”
Her niece huffed out a sigh, unsatisfied with her answer.
“Are you?” Halia asked.
“Am I what?”
“Content.”
“I like my work,” she said quickly. “I get to be outside all day. I have a place of my own, even if it’s in Grandma Dawn’s backyard. But I mean, it has an ocean view. It’s peaceful, and it’s safe. Life doesn’t get much better than that, right?”
“You’re content, then?”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that maybe you should look at your own life instead of worrying about your aunties.”
“I don’t love how my mother has taken over the house,” she griped.
“It’s her home too,” Halia said. “She was there before any of us.”
“That doesn’t give her the right to turn it into a business.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“When I was born, she couldn’t get off the island fast enough. She didn’t even come back when Grandpa got sick. But now that she’s broke, she just comes in and takes over? She tries to be all buddy-buddy with me like she didn’t foist me off on her parents twenty-seven years ago? She’s so fake.”
“She’s not fake,” Halia said calmly. “She’s trying.”
“Trying what?”
“Trying to mend things.”
“Too little too late,” Zoe muttered.
“Give her a chance.”
“Why should I?”
“She’s your mother.” Halia’s voice was gentle as she turned the steering wheel, maneuvering them along the sharp bends of the mountain road. “Don’t keep pushing her away. You never really know how much time you’ll have.”
“Grandma Dawn’s been more of a mother to me than Anne ever was.”
“Dawn’s been a mother to me too. But even so, even after all these years… my mother is my mother. Nothing can change that, and no one will ever replace her. Not really.”
Zoe snorted. “Oakley would be so mad if she heard you say that.”
“It was different for her, I guess. She never met her mother. She was a newborn when she arrived at the Kalama place, and her girls were still babies when they went to her. They never really knew their birth mother either. But me… I spent nearly my whole childhood with mine.”
“Anne spent less time with me than anyone else in the family,” Zoe said with a defensive edge to her voice.
“She did her best,” Halia said quietly, “and she’s here now.”
“What am I supposed to do with that? She missed her chance. I’m grown.”
“She’s your mother,” Halia said again. “You only get one.”
A glance at Zoe’s face showed Halia that she might have gotten through to her, at least a little. They passed the rest of the long drive home in silence.