Her daughter was still sound asleep. She was breathing peacefully, her chubby little fingers sticking out between the polished branches that bordered her bed.
Not so little anymore,Laurie corrected herself, putting her hand beneath her daughters. Mia’s hands were still childlike, but her fingers would be as long as Laurie’s in a few years time.
It was strange to think of a day when her daughter would be the same size as she was – or even taller.
Laurie tiptoed out of the room in her bare feet, stepped out onto the lanai, and breathed in the cool morning air. Surroundedby flowers and green growing things, she felt a deep sense of peace.
The sun was still low, and the entire overcast sky shone a spectral shade of lilac. The deep green foliage of the garden was a balm to her soul, a tranquil landscape dotted with gorgeous pops of color.
A movement caught her eye, and she was unsurprised to see Mahina out in her vegetable patch, pulling weeds before the day got too hot. Laurie wound her way through the orchard to greet her.
“Good morning, Auntie.”
She looked up with a start. “Good morning! You’re up early.”
Laurie looked at the pile of weeds that Mahina had collected in a broad, flat basket. She asked, “Can I help?”
Mahina said something in reply, but she was looking down and away as she brushed the dirt from her hands and plucked a caterpillar off of her tomatoes.
“I can only understand you if you look at me when you speak,” Laurie reminded her.
“Oh!” Mahina looked up again. “I’m sorry. You really want to help?”
She nodded.
“Help me pull up all the grass that’s sprouted in here. It grows so fast I can hardly keep up with it all. Once we’ve gotten most of it out–” Mahina looked away again, already forgetting – but Laurie had gotten the gist of it.
“Pull out the grass sprouts. Got it.”
Mahina said something as she bent to pick up her basket. Then she caught herself and turned to face Laurie.
“I’m going to take these to the chickens,” she repeated. “You can always give them your kitchen scraps too. Or toss them in the compost pile, just there.”
Laurie nodded. When Mahina walked away, Laurie knelt in the woodchips in her flannel pants and pulled grass from the nearest garden bed. She grasped each slender blade near its base and pulled up as much of the root system as she could.
Mahina came back after a while and they worked in companionable silence, pulling weeds together as the day grew brighter.
Suddenly Mahina looked up with a start. She looked at Laurie and said, “Your daughter is shouting for you.”
Laurie almost laughed at the look of confusion on her face. “Sorry, I should have put my hearing aids in. If I do that, I can usually hear her when she shouts.”
She stood and brushed the dirt off of her hands.
“Thank you for helping me,” Mahina said.
“Thanks for letting me.” Laurie walked back through the orchard and waved to Mia. “Here I am!”
“I woke up and you were gone!” Mia said and signed. She was extra dramatic with the sign forgone, which could also meandead.
Sorry, Laurie apologized. “I was helping Auntie Mahina in the garden.”
“Don’t do that!” Mia commanded, stomping her foot.
“You want me to be here when you wake up?” Laurie clarified.
“Yes!”
“Okay. I’m sorry.” She opened her arms, and Mia rushed in for a hug.
