27. Emma

27

Emma

I t was a perfect blue-sky day when they arrived home from their camping trip in Punalu‘u. Summer had been a long time coming, but it seemed content to stay a while.

Their clingy orange cat wound between her feet while she unloaded the car, and the dog ran laps around the house.

“Zuko’s happy to see us,” Kai said, “and Dio’s happy to be home!”

“Definitely,” she agreed. “How about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you happy to be home?”

“Yeah. The beach was fun, but I love home best.” His matter-of-fact tone touched her heart.

They were fast approaching the one-year anniversary of Adam’s death. In those early months of soul-crushing pain, she never could have imagined how far they would come in one year, or how much they would heal.

She missed her husband. She would always miss him. His absence from their lives would always be a source of grief.

But somehow, in spite of the grief that she carried – or maybe even because of it – she had built a new life that felt true to who they were and who she was meant to be.

Kai was thriving. They were surrounded with love. And she was… happy.

It was still a shock, sometimes. Not too long ago, she was certain that she had lost her capacity to feel joy, or even contentment. And she had, for a time. The closest she had come to happiness in those early months was some degree of respite from the shredding pain of her loss. She could still feel some things, even then – love, gratitude, guilt – but happiness seemed to have fallen out of reach forever.

Emma wandered away from her car – still half unloaded – and went to check on the jaboticaba tree that she had planted in honor of her husband. It was just a sapling, far too young to produce anything (according to what she had read) but it had flowered anyway. Now the trunk was covered in perfect globes. Some were still green, some burgundy, and some such a dark purple that they were almost black – nearly ripe enough to eat.

She sat next to the little tree, heedless of the damp overgrown grass that soaked through her pajama pants and cooled her skin, and turned her face up to the sun. She had found true happiness again, and it had happened so much sooner than she would have thought possible.

There was a strange sort of grief in that, too – in finding happiness without him. But she knew that it’s what he would have wanted, for her to be happy. That man would do anything to make her smile. And that more than anything gave her the courage to keep moving forward. Living for him, even after he was gone.

She was living in his childhood home, caring for his father’s goats and chickens, and tending to the orchard that had been Adam’s cafeteria and his playground when he was Kai’s age.

She was raising their son on her own, to the best of her ability. Kai was surrounded by love, connected to both sides of his family, and growing up on the same piece of land that had supported and nurtured his father and grandfather.

It wasn’t perfect – nothing was – but it was good, and it was beautiful. It was enough.

Eventually, she got up and went to finish unpacking. She was just walking out for the last load when her next-door neighbor came through the gate.

“Tara!” she set down the bags and went to hug her friend.

“Hey Em.” Tara squeezed her hard and then let go. “How was Punalu‘u?”

“We had so much fun! Thanks again for taking care of the animals.”

“Oh, Cody did all of that.”

“Well, thank Cody for me then.”

Tara nodded. Emma could see from the look on her face that something was bothering her.

“What is it?”

“Is Juniper okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is she here?”

“I think so, yeah. She caught a ride back with her dad earlier today. He was going to drop her off. I think she’s up in her room.” All through her babbling, the troubled look on Tara’s face didn’t change. “Why?”

“Cody hasn’t heard from her in a few days. It was kind of scaring him, since they’ve basically been joined at the hip all summer. Then I guess he saw her get home today, and she just went straight inside. Hasn’t answered his texts or anything. Maybe they’re too old for me to meddle like this – and I know Cody wouldn’t want me to – but he’s worried about her. Honestly, so am I.”

“I’m sorry she just ghosted him like that. That’s not like her.”

“I know she’s been going through a rough time. And I know grief doesn’t have a timeline, but… this feels different.”

“I’ll go talk to her.”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“No, please don’t be. I’m glad that she has so many people watching out for her. Lani’s better at talking to her than I am, and she obviously loves spending time with you. After all she’s been through with her mom, I’m grateful that she has amazing women in her life.”

“Okay, good.” Tara seemed to relax a bit.

Emma said goodbye, gave her another hug, and went looking for her niece.

“Hey Jun?” Emma stood at the top of the second flight of stairs and tapped on the door to the third-story bedroom, a sweet little tower that overlooked the orchard. “You in there?”

She opened the door. “What’s up?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.” Juniper retreated to the narrow bed that lay beneath the window.

It did Emma’s heart good to see how much her niece had settled into the room. There were bundles of herbs hanging from the ceiling and books stacked on every surface. Photos of her and Cody were pinned to the wall, and a hand-knit blanket softened the bed.

“I just wanted to check in.” Emma turned the desk chair around and sat down. “How are you doing?”

Juniper opened her mouth and closed it again, fidgeted, and gave her a tight, apologetic smile. “I’m okay, Auntie Em. The past few months have been a lot, but I’m okay.”

“You seem off. I don’t know… anxious?”

“Yeah, well.” Another smile that she could only hold for a fraction of a second, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Growing up can be tricky.”

Emma nodded, but silently she wondered for the thousandth time why Juniper felt like she couldn’t confide in her. Trying to nudge the conversation forward, she hazarded a guess.

“Are you upset about Fern?”

Jun let out a derisive snort of laughter.

“I would understand if you have mixed feelings about him seeing someone so soon.”

“Who your brother shacks up with is none of my business.”

Emma leaned back, shocked by her choice of words and by the bitterness in her tone.

And then she leaned in.

“Juniper, I’m worried about you. I want to help, but I don’t know how.”

Fear flashed through Juniper’s eyes, and in that moment she looked so young and frightened that Emma’s heart just about broke in two.

Then she blinked, and the walls went up again.

“I don’t care about Fern.” Juniper’s voice was steady and controlled, almost flat. “She’s great. He’s better when she’s around. Like, still sad, but not a dead man walking. Or a powder keg. And she obviously adores Teddy – like, worships him.”

“Okay, so you’re not upset about Fern.”

“No.”

“Or your mom?”

“No, not really. I mean, yeah, there’s a whole lot of trauma there. Aunt Toni keeps telling me I should see a therapist, but I don’t think talking to a stranger is what I need right now. And that’s not– it’s not why I–” Juniper’s voice broke and she pressed her hands to her eyes, holding back tears.

Emma slid off of her chair and knelt on the floor by the bed.

“Did something happen with Cody?”

Tears fell down Juniper’s face despite her best efforts to hold them back. She grabbed a t-shirt off the floor and used it to blow her nose.

“I haven’t talked to him in days,” she admitted. “He probably thinks I’m mad at him.”

“But you’re not?”

“No.” She shook her head so fast that a tear flew off and landed on the knee of her pajama pants. “He’s amazing. I don’t deserve him.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I just ghosted him. He has every right to hate me, but I know he doesn’t. He doesn’t hate anybody. He’s the nicest person in the world, but he’s still just a kid. I’m still just a kid.” She broke into a sob on the last word.

Emma took hold of Juniper’s hands. Her fingertips were cold, even though the sun was beating on the tin roof overhead.

“Junebug, please tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

Juniper took a shuddering breath and nodded, pulling herself together. She pulled her hands back and blew her nose again.

Emma watched her summon her courage.

“Auntie Em… I think I’m pregnant.”

Thanks for reading! The story continues with Big Island Sunset .