“Why does she hate me so much?”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Halia told her. “She’s been through more than you know.”
“What do you mean?”
Halia winced, wondering if she had already overstepped. “That’s not for me to say. Just… don’t take it personally.”
“But I’m her mother.”
Halia shrugged.
Anne’s face was red from holding back tears, and she pressed her hands to her eyes. “This is so hard. Hasn’t enough time passed? Is she ever going to stop punishing me?”
“She’s not punishing you, Anne. She’s just… struggling.”
“Yeah, okay.” She sighed heavily. “I’m gonna go check on Pete and Claire.”
Anne went upstairs, and Halia didn’t linger in the empty kitchen. She took her coffee in a travel mug, hefted her baskets, and headed for the shelter.
19
Anne
It was a quiet morning at Anne’s makeshift little inn.
Two young couples had left before dawn to hike a jungle trail, and now there was just one older lady traveling solo. She and Dawn became fast friends immediately, and they sat chatting about the woman’s travels over coffee.
Anne stood washing the dishes, staring out at the thin blue strip of ocean that was visible from the kitchen window, when Zoe walked out of the ‘ohana unit in the backyard. Her hair was braided for work, still with that long stripe of dark auburn hair bisecting the fading green. The t-shirt she wore was several sizes too big, thick and boxy.
The fashion choices that she made went far beyond the tomboy tendencies of her childhood or a simple indifference to her appearance. It felt like she went out of her way to disguise herself and her beauty. Anne didn’t understand it.
Zoe came through the kitchen door and paused, probably unhappy to find herself so close to her mother. Her expression grew ever more sour when she glanced at the kitchen table and saw the two women chatting there, like even one quiet guest was an unforgivable breach of the way thingsshouldbe.
Then she turned back to find Anne watching her, and the sour expression turned into a full scowl.
“What?” She emphasized the word with its ASL gesture, shaking two hands held palm-up. Her shoulders were hunched forward in a defensive posture that hurt Anne’s heart.
“It’s strange to see you grown.” She dried her hands and turned to face her eldest daughter. “I think subconsciously, I still think of you as my baby. You were so little once, and now you’re bigger than me. It’s hard to wrap my head around that sometimes.”
That wasn’t what had been on her mind right then, but it was true – more deeply and persistently true than what she had been thinking at that moment.
“I grew up a long time ago.” Zoe’s tone was acid. “Anyway, I was neveryourbaby. You left as soon as I was born.”
She turned and left without getting whatever she had come in for. Anne stood frozen for a moment. Then she followed her out onto the back porch.
“I didn’t,” she said.
“What?” Zoe turned to look at her.
“I didn’t leave as soon as you were born. I was here all summer. I breastfed you for three months. You slept in my bed. I was with you every minute of the day and night.”
For a moment it looked like she might be getting through to her. Emotion flashed through Zoe’s eyes – but then it was gone again just as quickly.
“Noah’s the one who wasn’t here,” she pressed on. “He was already off working in Alaska. He wasn’t here when you were born, or when you were a baby, and you’ve forgivenhim.”
“He came back! He was here for me!”
“I came back too, Zoe! Every birthday, every Christmas.”
