Mama moved one slow step at a time. Her legs felt like guava jelly as she teetered and grabbed onto the long, scuffed table to regain her balance. It was covered with flowers and leaves and shells. It all felt so familiar. She saw again all the colorful leis she and Leia had strung as they sat together for hours and hours to finish an order. How many times did she reach for another green ti leaf stacked in front of her, folding and twisting it with nimble fingers before she pushed the needle and thread through, pulling the rolled-up leaf tightly next to the others?

Mama looked across the table and saw Leia beside her as clear as day, each so much younger. She had finished stringing a lei and held it up to inspect her work. The garland and crown were made for a famous hula dancer who would wear them as part of the story she told in the sway of her grass skirt, the careful movements of her arms and hands, the quick, smooth turn of her hips. Mama suddenly wanted to put the lei lovingly over Leia’s head and onto her shoulders so that she would finally tell Mama her story, the sorrow she held. Instead, she dangled it just in front of her daughter.

“Who was he?” Mama asked gently.

Leia looked up at her, surprised at the question, her eyes focused on the lei Mama held up high in front of her, an invitation to tell her story.

“No one,” she whispered, “no one anymore.” Leia pleaded with her eyes for Mama not to ask again.

Mama nodded and slowly lowered the lei. “Finished then,” she said, knowing that so many stories didn’t have happy endings.

* * *

Take a breath, old woman, Mama reminded herself before moving forward, balancing steady against the table, her hand running over the worn surface before she shuffled the next few steps to the screen door. When Mama finally pushed it open, it was as if a gray veil had been lifted from her eyes. She saw a clear wash of bright morning sky and noticed her beloved monkey pod tree across the yard as the sun’s warmth stroked her face. Mama looked up as the droning noise grew louder still, squinting against the brightness of the sunlight in her eyes.

“Hurry, yeah!” she heard Nestor’s voice call out to her.

Mama looked around but couldn’t see him. “Where?” she asked, irritated.