“He is, but not for much longer.”
“Why aren’t men allowed?”
“Some of the women who stay there have been hurt by men, and I want them to feel safe.”
“Oh.” Pete scraped sadly at the last of his ice cream.
“That’s discrimination,” Mia said.
Halia snorted quietly. “I suppose it is.”
“You’re not supposed to discriminate,” she pressed, narrowing her eyes.
“And why’s that?”
“Because it’s not fair! Pete can’t help that he’s going to be a man! Why shouldn’t he be allowed? It’s not like he’s going to hurt anyone.”
“You’ll understand when you’re older,” was all Halia could think to say.
Mia rolled her eyes. “I hate it when grownups say that.”
“I hear you.”
She tossed her empty bowl in the trash. “Can we go now?”
“Sure.” Halia tossed her paper bowl away, still half full. “Let’s go.”
The kids cheered up as they walked the short distance to Paradise Books.
Kids were quick to forget… and quick to forgive. For Mia, who had to spend most weekends with the man who had hurt and frightened her mother, Forgive and Forget was a necessary coping mechanism.
There were still a handful of customers in the shop when they arrived at Paradise Books, and Laurie was chatting with a couple up at the counter.
Mia pulled Pete over to the children’s books. Halia stood near the front of the shop for a moment, admiring the mural on the wall behind her sister. Native birds flew out of an open book, and red ‘ohi‘a flowers bloomed all around.
Halia was so proud of her little sister. With an age gap of eight years between them, Halia remembered better than anyone all that Laurie had been through.
When she looked at her, she still saw the little girl who would plant herself on the front steps all day, every Sunday,stubbornly waiting for a mother who never came. She remembered the years of speech therapy and how shy she had been to speak in front of anyone.
To see her now, chatting cheerfully with customers, was delightful. Halia was amazed by the woman that Laurie had become – and she was a wonderful mother, too.
“Thank you so much for picking them up,” Laurie said to Halia as her customers left. “I really appreciate it.”
“It was no trouble,” Halia replied. “They’re good kids.”
“How have you been?”
“I’m well. You know me. Always the same.”
The families that rotated through her shelter were a source of constant change, but she was the one who stood steady throughout it all: the boulder in the middle of the stream. People came and went, but her life stayed much the same.
Her phone buzzed, and a picture of her adoptive parents appeared on the screen.
“Just a sec. Mom’s calling.”
Laurie gestured for her to answer.
“Aloha,” Halia brought the phone to her ear.