Page 1 of Big Island Summer
1
Emma
Rain sang overhead, falling against the tin roof as Emma curved her spine first one way, then the other. Wind rushed through the trees that surrounded the lanai, a huge back porch open on three sides and protected from the rain.
At the front of the class, Fern slid one foot forward and leaned into a pyramid pose. Her jaw grazed her shin as she locked her hands together and raised her arms up towards the sky.
Emma mimicked the movements as best as she could, but her head stopped a foot or two away from her leg. She took a breath, exhaled, and managed to relax another centimeter or two into the pose… close enough.
Her flexibility had increased with each class, but it would take a miracle for her to be able to fully replicate their teacher’s graceful movements.
Fern looked as though she could have been a ballerina as easily as she became a yogi. Emma never had that sort of poise. Even in her slim pre-baby days, she had preferred to keep both feet planted solidly on the earth.
Still, the classes had been good for her. They helped her to escape the tumult of her thoughts and settle into her body. Between garden chores and yoga classes, she was as strong as she had ever been.
She let her eyes drift to the albizia trees that danced and swayed in the distance. The fast-growing weed trees were a menace, widow makers that frequently dropped limbs big enough to bring down the roof or crush a car, but they were beautiful all the same.
Belatedly, Emma straightened up and followed the class into the next pose. She turned towards Juniper, who had taken to yoga as easily as she seemed to take to most things, with an easy confidence and good-natured willingness to stumble her way to success.
Juniper’s wavy brown hair fell to one side as she went into a triangle pose, touching one hand to the mat and reaching the other arm up in a graceful line. Emma did the same, or something like it. She tried not to compare herself to her teenage niece or the professional yogi up front.
The garden kept her active and strong, but Fern’s classes had shown her how tight her muscles still were. She’d had a few inactive – borderline comatose – months before moving to Hawaii, but she knew that the tension stored in her muscles went even deeper than that. They had locked into place with the energetic cocoon that she had drawn around herself after Adam’s death.
Slowly, slowly, she was learning how to open up again, how to navigate the world without him in it. She was even learninghow to do that with some semblance of grace, all thanks to the community that she had found here in Pualena.
Emma glanced up and realized that the class had left her behind again. She stood straight and laughed at herself, a quick and quiet exhale. So much for yoga making her more present and mindful. She still got lost in her own head more often than not.
With effort, she managed to stay with the flow for the rest of the class. Thoughts and worries ebbed away like an outgoing tide. She focused on the present moment, on the smooth flow of moments and the susurrus of wind through the green leaves all around them.
A quiet gratitude settled deep into her heart.
She was so thankful for all of it: the women around her, the cool island breeze, the deep green world that held them.
After the tidal wave of grief had receded and left her life an unrecognizable wreck, she had built something new. The peace that she’d cultivated in Hawai‘i had been hard won, which made her value it all the more.
“Okay, that’s it for today!” Fern clasped her hands together and beamed at them. “Thank you so much for coming. Just one quick announcement before you roll up your mats! I have a two-bedroom apartment upstairs available to rent, and I would so much rather have one of you living upstairs rather than a stranger. So if you or anyone you love is looking for a rental, please let me know! Okay, that’s it.”
Raising her voice over the wail of the wind as it picked up, Fern added, “Or, wait, no it’s not. Just a quick reminder to head north on your way out of here, because Church Drive is lined with albizia and they start dropping branches when the wind picks up this much. It’s better to drive up Paradise or Pakalana. Okay, that’s it, for real. I release you!”
There was a smattering of laughter as women knelt to roll up their yoga mats. Emma started to do the same, then looked up when Juniper picked hers up off of the floor.
“Look, Auntie Em! It’s like an umbrella!”
The old pet name and Jun’s bright smile made Emma think of her niece when she was Kai’s age; she saw a flash of seven-year-old Juniper beaming up at her with new front teeth that were too big for her face. Then she blinked and took in the Jun of the day, already so grown up at seventeen.
Emma’s heart filled with pride and love and the quiet sort of heartache that came with missing the child she’d known even as she cherished the person her niece had grown into.
Juniper ran through the rain with her purple yoga mat held above her head, its length trailing behind her. Emma just walked to the car, letting the warm summer rain caress her face and soak into her messy mom bun. Stray auburn strands stuck to her face, and she tucked them behind her ears.
“Look at this,” Juniper said when Emma slid into the driver’s seat. Jun had beat her to the car by about five seconds and was already on her phone. “My mom sent a new picture of Teddy.”
In the dim interior of the car, she pointed the screen at Emma to show her a brightly shining picture of her baby brother. The baby’s cheeks had filled out to full chunk, and the picture captured a gummy smile. His eyes were changing from newborn gray to a lighter hazel; it looked like they would settle into the same green and gold that most of their family had, Emma and Juniper included.
“Can you believe how fast he’s growing?” Juniper demanded, pulling the phone back to gaze down at the picture again.
“They do that.” Emma put the car into drive and navigated carefully through the small gravel parking lot.
Beside her, Juniper was tapping a silent message into her phone.
