Page 14 of Big Island Moonlight
The parents milled around tables loaded with Tara’s phenomenal cooking. Emma was there already, talking with Lani. She saw other friendly faces, but she wasn’t feeling sociable. It was too many people, and she was tired.
It was more than that, she admitted to herself after a moment. She didn’t like the way that some of these parents looked at her.
Markets were one thing; most of her customers probably assumed that she was in her twenties. But the acquaintancesin Pualena who knew her story… well, they looked at her differently. Often with pity, sometimes with disgust. Even the looks of simple curiosity were starting to hurt her care-worn heart.
No, she didn’t have the stomach for that today. She should have stayed home, like she had wanted to originally.
“Is there a table for presents?” she asked, lifting up the twin gift bags that she had brought.
“Yeah, they’re inside.” Cody put one hand at the small of her back. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
They went up the front steps and into the cool interior of Liam’s farmhouse. There, on a long table by the door, was a whole pile of presents. Juniper balanced her bags carefully on top of the boxes, hoping that the girls would like what she had made.
“Oh!” Tara stumbled to a halt in the kitchen doorway, her eyes fixed on Jun.
“Hi.” Jun’s voice was squeaky and small. Anxiety crawled up and down her body as she crossed her arms over her belly. Her nails dug into her skin.
“Juniper knit sweaters for birthday gifts,” Cody said brightly.
“That’s wonderful.” Tara’s voice was tight and nervous, just like hers.
Juniper didn’t understand why. It was her house, her party, her kids. Jun was the interloper, the one with reasonable cause to be a nervous wreck. She couldn’t understand the anxious look in Tara’s eyes.
Suddenly it occurred to her that maybe Taradidn’thate her. Maybe Cody’s mother had just retreated from a difficult situation, the same as she had. And then as the weeks and months stretched on, bridging the gap had felt more and more difficult.
“Do you need a hand in the kitchen?” Jun asked.
That was where they had always connected before, when they were neighbors. It was a small space, Tara’s old kitchen, but it had always felt warm and comfortable.
She had mothered Jun a bit, letting her lick the spoon and walking her through family recipes. So soon after her mom’s death, Juniper had been in desperate need of mothering.
Foolishly, she had thought that maybe carrying Tara’s grandchild would strengthen that relationship, that she would become more of a daughter to her.
But she wasn’t her daughter. She was just the trashy teenager who had trapped Tara’s son, and her warm welcome had frozen over the moment that she showed them the pregnancy test.
Now, standing in Tara’s home, she could see a refusal in her eyes.
“Everything’s already done,” the older woman said awkwardly.
Juniper’s stomach sank. “Okay.”
Tara sighed, and some of the tension seemed to flow out of her shoulders. “But I just made a pot of tea. It’s your mamaki citrus blend. Would you like some?”
A fragile hope fluttered in Jun’s chest, and she nodded.
“Come on through.” Tara turned and walked back into the kitchen.
Juniper’s feet felt stuck to the floor.
“Come on,” Cody urged. His hand pushed gently against her back, and she took a step forward. Then another, and another, moving tentatively into Tara’s domain.
The kitchen was beautiful, with wooden walls and wide marble counters. Huge windows on one side offered a sweeping view of the ranch and the mountains beyond.
Tara poured a mug of tea and pushed it towards her, a silent offering. Juniper accepted it and took a deep breath of steam. Slowly, the tight anxiety in her chest began to unravel.
The conversation was stiff and awkward at first, driven mostly by Cody’s stubborn goodness. But as they stood chatting and sipping their tea, the awkwardness drained slowly away.
It was like lancing a boil, Juniper thought: the situation was still tender, but opening up a bit had let most of the poison out.
