4. Lani

Lani was up at first light. She had fallen asleep with Rory the night before, as she so often did. She would cuddle her daughter to sleep and more often than not would fall asleep herself at her five year old’s eight o’clock bedtime.

The world outside was hazy and gray, but inside her home it was cozy and light. She had added pops of color to the little house: bright pillows and blankets on the secondhand couch, a basket full of tropical fruit on the kitchen counter, golden fairy lights along the tops of the walls.

There was art everywhere, both hers and Rory’s. She had even started to paint the house itself; flowering vines crept up the kitchen cabinets, and a school of tropical fish darted past the bathroom door.

She made herself a hot cup of chai with goat milk.

That neverending chore was also an endless gift. On the days when her daughter refused to eat anything besides toast or bananas or plain noodles, she gave her a tall glass of raw milk alongside each plain serving of carbs and called it a win. And when there was a surfeit of milk, she used it to make a simple soft cheese.

It was almost worth the work of milking every morning and evening. Not the life she would have chosen for herself and not something that she wanted to be tied to long term, but she didn’t mind covering Emma’s chores for a few weeks.

Lani was so grateful to be living in the beautiful ‘ohana unit rent free, particularly on this lush green property where her daughter could run and play.

She was lucky to have family on the island. Trying to pay exorbitant rent while also paying her attorney back in Alaska to help her navigate family court was a crucible she was lucky to have escaped.

The whole process had been hard enough without worrying over whether her daughter would have food to eat and a roof over her head. The fear and frustration of going up against her ex and his lies had driven her to the brink as it was.

But she was past that now. Lani wrenched her thoughts back to the present and felt calm settle back into her body as she looked around her cozy living room.

She was finally divorced.

Free. And living the dream here in Hawai’i with her baby girl.

She had just just finished her tea when Rory came stumbling into the living room, still half asleep. She was flanked by Dio and Zuko, who had moved into their little cottage when the big house went dark and empty.

The young Belgian Malinois had whimpered and whined and mourned Kai’s departure so thoroughly that Lani had taken pity on him and let him sleep in her room. And the lanky orange kitten was just as clingy, following her around and meowing to be picked up the way that he had when he was just a bottle-fed scrap of a thing.

She had woken up that morning with Zuko on her chest and Dio at her feet; both animals had snuck up onto the big bed with her and Rory in the middle of the night.

Dio rushed forward to greet her with a wet nose and full-body wriggles of excitement, and then he disappeared out the front door. Zuko hopped up onto the couch and immediately started purring.

With considerably less enthusiasm than her animal friends, Rory climbed up next to Lani and snuggled in beside her. Lani put an arm around her daughter, and Rory pressed her face into Lani’s sweatshirt.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. I need to go milk the goats. Do you want to come?”

“No thanks,” she muttered.

“Okay.” She eased herself up off of the couch, leaving Rory and the cat to snuggle under a brightly patterned blanket. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Lani slid her feet into a pair of waterproof boots and tromped out through the morning mist to meet the goats, who bleated at her in greeting or complaint – she had no idea which.

It was peaceful once they quieted down, no sound beyond the morning chatter of birds and far-off crowing of roosters.

Lani got one goat onto the milking stand with a small portion of grain and set a bucket below her. She had been pitifully slow at first, to both her frustration and the goats’, but she was gradually getting faster. It still took her well over an hour to do what Tara could in half that time, but hey, she got the job done. The muck and the milk had taken some getting used to, but she had gotten into a routine.

Still, she would be glad to hand the job back over to Emma when she returned from the mainland.

As Lani ushered the second goat onto the milking stand, she put her headphones in and called Emma. She was three hours ahead in California, so the day was well on its way over there.

“You’re up early,” Emma said when she answered.

“Halfway through the morning milking already.”

“Look at you go! We’ll make a farmer of you yet.”

“I am an arteest,” Lani said with faux haughtiness. Then she dropped back to her normal voice and said, “But I’ll milk goats and serve up shave ice if it means putting food on the table. I do know how lucky I am.”

“The Kealoha place has been a blessing for all of us, even with all of the work that it takes to maintain it. Especially with the work, actually. It keeps me moving. Is it weird that I miss the goats?”

“A little, yeah.” One of the overgrown babies nibbled at the sleeve of her sweatshirt, and she pushed him away with an elbow. She accidently looked him in the eye, which she tried not to do. Their weird horizontal irises still gave her chicken skin. “How’s California?”

“Oh, you know.” Emma’s voice dropped a register, and she sighed.

“I don’t know,” she replied, gently coaxing.

“It’s been hard, being in this house again. Packing up all of Adam’s things. For Kai too, I think. He’s been super volatile, just blowing up over the smallest things. After our time in Hawai’i I thought it would be easier… and I guess it is, a little bit. But a little bit easier is still really, really hard.”

“I’m sorry, Em.”

“I’ll get through it. My siblings have been helping me go through stuff, deciding what to donate and what to store. But every single thing, every shirt of his, every book… it’s like a punch to the gut.

“My brother offered to pack it all up for me the other day after I cried for an hour over a ratty old t-shirt, but I said no. I have to do this myself, decide what to save for Kai and what to let go of.”

“I get it. Going through my mom’s stuff after she died was hell, but sending it all to the transfer station without going through it would have been worse. That’s what I did with my dad’s stuff, and I still regret not hanging onto more. I was still in shock, I think. My mom went slow but my dad was just there one day and gone the next, you know?”

“I know.” Emma’s voice was heavy. Adam’s death had been that sudden.

“I was a mess. Desperate to get away, to throw myself into work and partying and try to escape it all, the grief and the loss. It was smart of you to leave it for a while, until you were stronger.”

“I don’t feel stronger. I don’t feel like I’ve made any progress at all.”

“But you have. And you will. It just takes time.”

“Thanks, Lani. I’ll let you get back to morning chores. I’m almost done here. Tomorrow I start to interview long-term renters.”

“Good luck.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Lani slotted the metal lid onto the milk bucket and walked carefully through the muddy yard. She would have to muck out the goat pen later on and put down some fresh straw. Not her favorite job in the world – she didn’t have quite the same affinity for manure that Emma and Tara did – but when she looked at the gorgeous flowers and monstrous papaya that were fed by the black gold, she did have some appreciation for the stuff.

Back inside, she strained the milk into clean glass jars and set it in the fridge. All but a tall cup for Rory, which she drank warm alongside a piece of sourdough toast. Plain, as was her preference lately, which Lani had a hard time wrapping her head around.

She joined her daughter at the table with a similar breakfast, another cup of chai and a piece of toast, though she put a generous helping of Tara’s liliko’i butter on hers.

“Is today a school day, Mama?”

“Yeah, baby. We need to leave in about thirty minutes to meet your cousins at the beach.”

“Yay!” Just like that, Rory was fully awake. She bounded out of her chair, leaving behind an empty milk glass and half a piece of toast. “I’m gonna wear my new bathing suit!”

Lani made a mental note to pack extra snacks along with Rory’s lunch for the day. She always worked up a powerful appetite in the water with her cousins.

Lani wished that she could stay at the beach park with her family, but it was another day of selling shave ice for her. Which she should be grateful for, she reminded herself. A job was a job, and making homemade fruit syrups for her cousin’s business was a better job than most.

Still, standing in that tiny building day after day was starting to wear on her. She would love to find a job that she could feel passionate about, but she supposed most people weren’t that lucky.

Everyone around her seemed to have found that, though. Tenn, ‘ōlena, Tara, Kekoa… every one of them was running their own business. ‘ōlena had encouraged her to sell the coloring books that she made for the kids, but the prospect of trying to sell her art felt overwhelming. She had no idea where to start.

“Mama!” Rory ran in wearing her new swimsuit, shorts and a top both patterned with pineapples. “Aren’t you ready yet?”

Lani laughed and shook her head. “I need a minute.”

Rory crossed her arms and tapped one foot impatiently while Lani took their dishes to the sink.

“Go put something on over your swimsuit.”

“But I want Lulu and Kiki to see!”

“They’ll see it when you swim, but if you start the day in that you’ll freeze. Go on.”

Rory went and did as she was told (with no small amount of grumbling).

Lani changed for work, then picked up her phone to check if any of the kids in the co-op needed a ride to the beach park.

The message she found waiting there chilled her to the bone.

It was from an unknown number. A picture of her standing in the window of Haumona Shave Ice. She was smiling, handing a bowl to a customer who had their back to the camera.

You always looked good in green, babe.

A cold fear settled over Lani.

It could only be Zeke.

He was on the island.