Halia lifted the heavier bag and strode towards the house, leaving the kids to follow with the second one.
She was selfishly elated to get Anne back from the mainland. If she had her way, she would gather the whole family on one big property to live communally, village style.
Her heart was light at the prospect of having most of her sisters all in one place again. They were just missing Akemi. If they could coax their youngest sister to come home for a while, the family would be complete again… as complete as it could ever be now, anyhow.
In many ways, Kimo had been the center of their family, possessed of the kind of warmth and gravity that could keep the whole disparate group of them together. Their first summer without him felt cold.
“Dinner!” she called as she walked through the living room to the kitchen.
Feet thundered down the stairs as Annie Oakley ran down to attack her with a double hug. They were each as tall as she was, though neither one was as sturdy. Teaching Pilates had given Oakley a lean sort of strength, but Anne was skinny in the sort of way that came from years of chronic stress.
Oakley released her quickly and set about pulling food out of the twin canvas bags, but Anne stayed glued to her side.
“Auntie Halia!” Claire appeared in the kitchen and shouldered her mom to one side so that she could get in for a hug. “Hi!”
“Hey, kiddo.” Halia grinned at Anne over her daughter’s head. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to be seen,” Anne quipped, but there was an earnestness beneath her chipper tone. “Thanks for getting dinner.”
“My pleasure.” Halia looked around as Claire spun off towards the food. They were missing a few faces. Dawn and Zoe were hiding out, no surprise there. But… “Where are Mia and Laurie?”
Anne’s smile fell. “They went home.”
“Already?” Her heart sank. Laurie hardly ever made the drive down from Hawi, and Halia was too busy with work to get up there as often as she might like. She’d been looking forward to seeing her.
“Is she okay?” Anne asked quietly, speaking below the happy chatter of Oakley and the kids.
Halia shrugged and turned away. She opened a kitchen cabinet and pulled down a stack of bowls for the soup. Anne followed her, not about to let the matter drop, but she was diverted by a question from Pete.
Laurie wasn’t okay, not really. Chris had circled her like a snake, slowly constricting the borders of where she was allowed to go and what she was permitted to do. Halia had watched helplessly for the past decade as her little sister’s life got smaller and smaller, but Laurie just put on a brave face and kept trudging forward.
Halia gritted her teeth and shunted Laurie’s home life to the back of her mind. People accepted help when they were ready to admit that they needed it, and not a moment sooner.
Oakley wasn’t so different, Halia mused as she took down a stack of plates. Her home life was better than Laurie’s, certainly, but not nearly as picture-perfect as she liked to pretend. The similarity was that shewaspretending, even to herself. Oakley’s facade was sunshine-bright, but Halia could see the cracks that ran beneath the surface.
And then there was Anne, finally free of the marriage she’d tethered herself with.
It was a rare man who could lift a woman up; most of them were a terrible burden. Seeing the relationships that dragged her sisters down made Halia grateful that no man had ever been her cross to bear.
Soup’s on, she texted Zoe. The youngest of the Kalama girls was out in the shed that she’d converted into an ‘ohana unit.
Thanks Auntie.I’ll eat later.
Halia let out a huff of frustration and pocketed her phone.
This family would be a whole lot better off if more of them would just confront things head-on instead of sulking and skulking around.
And on that note, she stomped up the stairs in search of Dawn.
She found her adoptive mother right where she thought she’d be: curled up in the armchair in the corner of her bedroom, huddled over the screen, windows shut.
Halia yanked the drapes open. Dawn flinched and hissed like a vampire.
“Blue light is basically a carcinogen,” she said, plucking the tablet out of Dawn’s hands. “You know that, right?”
Dawn just rubbed her eyes, silent as a stubborn child. An inch of silver shone at the roots of her blond hair, as if she’d gone too long without dying it. But Dawn had never dyed her hair. Stress had turned it gray almost overnight.
Halia hated to see her hollow cheeks and dull eyes, but whatever pity she’d felt had long since given way to irritation. Dawn was doing this to herself, and there was no excuse for that.
