Chapter 24 Laurie
Laurie
Laurie sat on the back steps with her legs in the sun and a warm cup of tea held in both hands. It was good to be home. She missed the familiar comfort of this place.
There was something about the salt air that simultaneously grounded and uplifted her, like her soul was expanding with each breath. She loved the sharp contrast of the horizon where the bright cerulean sky met the dark sapphire sea, and she loved watching the waves roll ever inward.
She rarely sat so peacefully, just looking out at the world. Either she was busy with something – doing household chores or working online or giving Mia her full attention – or she escaped into a book.
Sometimes it felt as though she had forgotten how to just be.
Then she visited the landscape of her childhood, these dark cliffs above a restless sea, a stark place brightened by sunshine and tropical flowers… and she remembered.
The wooden boards of the back porch shook beneath her; Mia was stomping to get her attention. Laurie turned to smile at her daughter.
“Can I go get shave ice with Auntie Anne?” Mia asked.
Sure, she replied. Tell her you need to be back before four.
OK! She ran back into the house.
Laurie stayed outside a while longer, sipping her golden mamaki tea. Eventually, her mom came out to join her. They sat in companionable silence for a while before Dawn turned to speak to her.
“Are you staying for dinner? I asked Zoe to make that ‘ulu chicken soup that everybody loves so much.”
Dawn had a stiff and stumbling way of signing, accompanying maybe half of her words with an ASL translation – but it was still better than nothing.
Laurie’s husband had thrown himself into learning ASL in the first year of their relationship… and then, as she had gotten to know him better and lipreading became easier, he had slowly dropped off.
Now she realized with some surprise that she couldn’t even remember the last time he’d used ASL. Somewhere along the way he had just… stopped.
“Laurie?” Dawn leaned closer, looking concerned. “Will you stay and eat with us?”
“Thanks, but no,” Laurie replied. “Chris is coming down to pick us up.”
“You don’t want to stay the night?” Dawn pressed. “You know that you and Mia can always stay in my room. That bed is stupidly big for just one person. Akemi’s room is free too, if you’d rather squeeze in there.”
“He’s on his way already. He’s driving down now.”
Dawn frowned. “Isn’t it time you had your own car?”
“I do have one. It’s just been in the shop forever.”
“Right.” Her mom’s sky-blue eyes were sharp with worry and suspicion.
“I’m fine. Really. We’re okay.”
Dawn studied her face for a minute. Then she said, “You deserve more than just okay.”
Laurie bit her lip and looked away – but Dawn tapped her shoulder, demanding her attention.
“I’m worried about you,” she said when Laurie looked at her again.
“There’s nothing to worry about!” Laurie’s hands flew with agitation, and her voice was probably getting too loud – but dang it, she was frustrated!
She was tired of her family implying that she was helpless, or that her husband was some sort of monster.
“He’s not dangerous! He’s not going to hurt us! ”
Dawn’s expression still held a degree of worry that suggested disagreement, but she didn’t argue. Laurie’s irritation sank into exhaustion.
“I can manage my own life.”
Her mother was still for a moment. Then she said, “You can always come home, Laurie. You can show up unannounced, or you can call me to pick you up. Anytime, day or night.”
Laurie sighed, tired of rebuffing her mother’s love. The worry could be suffocating sometimes – but as Mia got older, venturing out into the world more and more, Laurie found that she had a better understanding of Dawn’s anxiety.
OK, she signed. Thanks.
Dawn held up one hand with her ring and middle fingers folded down: I love you.
Ditto, Laurie replied.
Her mother turned suddenly, then looked at Laurie with her eyebrows pulled together in concern.
“There’s someone pounding on the front door.”
Laurie sighed before she could catch herself. It was probably Chris.
He always insisted on driving them around – mostly so they didn’t have to depend on anyone else for a ride home – and then got angry about the long hours he’d spent in the car.
Anne had driven all the way up at dawn to collect them for a day of swimming in Hilo, and she had offered to drive them back the next day – but being away from his family overnight made Chris sick with worry, and Laurie didn’t have the patience to endure the days of ill humor that would follow if she insisted.
Marriage was all about compromise, right? Wasn’t that what everyone said? Concessions were made on both sides constantly, in order to keep the peace.
She didn’t remember her mom and dad bickering like that. Dawn and Kimo were best friends. Laurie couldn’t remember a single fight.
But who knew what their marriage had been like behind closed doors? Mia was more or less oblivious to the tensions in her parents’ marriage. They both shielded her from all of that; probably Laurie’s parents had done the same.
If her dad were still alive, she would ask him. But she knew that asking her grieving mother about any troubles in her marriage would be pointless; she would never speak ill of Kimo now.
Not that there was much to say against him, as far as Laurie knew.
Her father was the best of men. She only hoped that Mia would be able to say the same.
Dawn rose to answer the door, and Laurie followed her inside.
When her mother opened the door, Chris said a curt hello and then looked past her to Laurie.
“Ready to go,” he said. Probably it was voiced as a question, but his expression was flat, making it feel more like a command.
“Mia’s not here,” she told him.
His temper flared. Though his expression only twitched ever so slightly out of place, his anger was so palpable that Dawn took an immediate step back.
“She ran into town with her cousins to get shave ice. She’ll be back any minute.” Laurie glanced at the clock and then looked back to her husband. “You’re early.”
“I wanted to get home before dark.”
Dawn said something that Laurie couldn’t see, and Chris shook his head.
“I’m not hungry.”
“A cup of tea, at least?” Laurie said.
“Sure. Fine.” He strode across the room and sat stiffly at the kitchen table.
A quiet dread seeped through Laurie’s limbs as she went through the motions of making tea. She didn’t even want to look at her husband, afraid that she would flinch away from the anger in his eyes.
It wasn’t that she was afraid of him, exactly. She had been honest with her mother when she’d told her that Chris would never harm them… but in that moment, she began to wonder if the cortisol-inducing stress of keeping him calm wasn’t a subtler sort of harm.
Laurie’s stomach sank as she realized that no part of her wanted to climb into that van and drive home with her husband.
Like the old story of the frog being boiled alive, her marriage had deteriorated so gradually that she’d hardly noticed. Now, though, when the air was thick with his anger… it felt hot enough to scald.
Maybe her family wasn’t so far off the mark after all.
But her husband had always been a quiet, introverted man. They’d never really understood him, not like Laurie had. They’d never seen his effusive kindness and affection when he was alone with her.
Then again, she hadn’t seen that side of him in a long time herself.
It was partially her fault; she knew that. She had always been so wrapped up in her own pursuits – first her PhD and then motherhood – that she had failed to prioritize her marriage. But it wasn’t too late, surely.
They needed more quality time together, like he’d been saying.
More time together as a family. Counseling, maybe.
She had to believe that they could find their way back to each other.
The alternative – divorce, family court, going days on end without seeing her daughter – was too painful to contemplate.
Or, said a quiet voice in the back of her mind, maybe your pride and your fear are keeping you from accepting the true state of things.
Laurie swallowed her worry and set the tea down in front of her husband.
Everything was going to be fine.
She just had to try a bit harder.