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 evenhewasn’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.”
