“Gross!” There was a smile in Hayden’s voice, and Oakley couldn’t resist another glance at the mirror to see her girls’ dimpled grins.
They looked nothing like her. Oakley’s blonde hair and blue eyes were an anomaly in Hawaii (though less so in the odd little highland bubble of Waimea). There was a time that the stark contrast between her and the girls had made her heart ache; she wished that people could see instantly that they werehers. But eventually, she had stopped taking the looks of confusion personally. And always, always, she was grateful for the privilege of raising these two beautiful girls.
“How was practice?” she asked, handing back Hayden’s lunchbox.
“You mean rehearsal?”
“That’s what I said!”
“It was fine.”
“That’s all I get? Fine?”
“Okay, it was splendiferous.”
Oakley chuckled and stopped pestering her. She hit play on a history podcast for kids and enjoyed thesplendiferousdrive south, soaking in the vibrant colors of the island: turquoise sky, sapphire sea, bright green hills. Here and there along the highway, African tulip trees blazed with an abundance of orange flowers.
The ninety-minute drive from home to her hometown was breathtakingly beautiful, with varied greenery and sweeping ocean views. Between the scenery and the stories, the time passed quickly.
When they pulled up to the house, Anne and her kids were sitting out on the lanai.
“Claire!” Harper shouted, clawing at the sliding door of the van. “Pete!”
“Hey!” Oakley shot her a look. “Keep your arms and legs inside until the vehicle has come to a complete stop.”
“Mom,” she groaned, wiggling the handle.
Oakley threw the car into park and unlocked the doors.
“Yo Petey!” Harper was out like a shot with Hayden right behind her. And Oakley was right behind them, just as excited to see her sister as they were to see their cousins.
“Annie Oakley!” they shouted in unison the moment their eyes met. Anne barrelled down the steps and into Oakley’s arms, nearly knocking her over.
“I missed you so much!” Oakley hugged her sister so tight that her toes came off the ground, and she spun her in a circle.
When she put her down, there were tears streaming down her freckled cheeks. Oakley took Anne’s face in her hands, wiping the tears away with both thumbs.
“What’s wrong?”
Anne grinned through her tears. “I’m just happy to see you.”
True, she knew, but not the whole truth. Good enough for now, with their four kids chattering just a few feet away on the lanai.
She hugged her again, squeezing her tight.
They looked nothing alike, had not a single ancestor in common (as far as they knew), but Anne and Oakley were as close as twins.
Even now, having her sister back felt like regaining a missing limb.
Their entire childhood, they were inseparable. They were born just a few months apart and raised in the big house behind them nearly from the start. Tutu Kalama – Kimo’s mother and the family matriarch – had fostered Oakley for years, ever since she was a baby. Eventually, Dawn and Kimo had officially adopted her.
With some reluctance, Oakley released her sister and went to greet her niece and nephew. She hardly remembered seeing them at the memorial service that spring; they had only been there for a few days, and that whole month was a haze in her memory, clouded by stress and earthshattering grief.
Months later, coming home to the house where Dad wasn’tstillmade her want to break down and cry. Instead, she fixed her smile to greet Pete and Claire.
“You’re looking so grown up,” she said, hugging them. “Are you excited for summer break?”
“Nothing says summer like mold and roaches.” Claire’s voice was mocking-bright.
