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Is that a hitch I hear in her voice? I know there is a lump in my throat.
Chapter 13
ALEK
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Alana, happy birthday to you!”
“Hau’oli La Hanau, dear granddaughter.”
The genuine smile on my daughter’s face makes me the happy one. Mom’s feeling the same. We sit at the breakfast table like proud parents, just glad to see a positive, grateful attitude where once a pissy expression lived.
The other side of the coin is that this is the first time I haven’t planned the special day’s festivities. She let it be known, the entire day will be spent on the beach. With her friends. And the grownups are not invited. That part was relayed gently. There is a picnic planned, and Ahn has a special menu and accompanied playlist. Think someone is bringing a volleyball. Of course surfing.
It is a good turn though, so get over yourself, man. It is the familiar path of every teen in every generation. Who wants to be with their parents when they can be with their contemporaries? They speak their own language.
Alana was never the birthday party girl. Even as a kid. Family was okay. When she was young her best friend from the neighborhood was all the outsiders she cared about including. We would make a special day of it, whatever activities she wanted. The beach, the community pool, a sleepover. For a few years it was a movie of her choosing. Lots of her favorite sugary foods and drinks. But I remember when it all changed. Once that one friend moved at ten, she retreated into herself. From then on, birthday celebrations annoyed her to no end. Too much attention.
“What time are you meeting the kids?” Mom asks.
“Noon.”
“You going to surf with them?”
This time the question doesn’t make her want to kill me. Hey, progress.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll decide then.”
Shutup. Don’t say a word that might change the possibility she will actually do it.
“Oh! Someone left a present for you at the door this morning.”
Her eyes brighten and she claps her hands in an excitement I haven’t seen in years.
“Yay!”
Getting up from the table, I reach to the counter for the colorful light blue and marine blue print cloth bag.
“Wow. This is really pretty,” she says, reaching for the gift. “The material is stretchy.”
She reads the tag.
“For my friend, Alana.” She smiles. “Love, Leilani.
She unties the drawstrings and opens the bag. Peeling back bright yellow tissue paper, eyes widen.
“Oh!”
A bikini and matching pareo made in the same fabric are held up. Then solid light blue shorts and a long sleeved crop top. I’ve seen some girls surf in those. But that isn’t Alana’s vibe. Too small. Too revealing.
“How darling!” Mom says, feeling the fabric.
“I love it!!”
What? I know nothing about women.
“I’m going to try them on!”
And she is gone.
