“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 allbuddy-buddy with me like she didn’t foist me off on her parents twenty-seven years ago? She’s sofake.”
“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.
21
Anne
“Here you go.” Anne set the last couple of plates down in front of her guests, a group of college kids on summer break. They had requested a pre-dawn breakfast to get a jump on their day, and she was happy to oblige.
It was still dark outside, so early that she could hear theco-qui co-quiof the invasive frogs that chirped all night long. Soon the coqui-frog chorus would give way to birdsong. Always underlying both was the sound of crashing waves.
“Thank you so much,” said one of the girls.
“It’s my pleasure,” Anne replied. “I love being done with work for the day by the time my kids wake up. It gives us time to do some exploring of our own.”
“Aren’t you from here?” the girl asked.
“I am, but my kids were born on the mainland.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and joined them at the table. “We just moved back a few weeks ago.”
