Staring at me with a gaze troubled by too many years of fear and pain, she whispers, “I need to make you happy.”
“And you do that by telling me what you’re feeling. Never hide from me. I need to know what’s in your heart. Just be honest. Can you do that?”
Sunny nods and looks down at Ani, who nods too. She tells her daughter, “I’m scared of the ocean.”
Our little girl leans around her mother to look at the water. “Bad?”
“No. I’m just scared.”
“Oh, no!” Ani cries, noticing her sand-covered feet. “Sick.”
Seeing them about to get upset, I casually wipe away the sand stuck to Ani’s damp legs. “It comes off.”
“Sand,” she says and looks to see if her mother is still upset.
“We’ll read about the ocean tonight,” I promise Sunny. “You can watch videos to help you understand. There’s no rush.”
“Does the ocean hurt?” Sunny asks, studying the water. “It smells different than the pool. Is there something in it?”
“Salt. That’s why you can’t drink it,” I say, standing up and holding out my hands for them to take.
“And chlorine is why we can’t drink the pool water,” Sunny says, remembering what I told her back at the hotel.
Immediately searching for her new favorite thing in the world, Ani asks, “Pool?”
“How about we stand close to the water?” I suggest. “Not where we’ll get wet, but just close enough for you to get used to it.”
“No, pool?” Ani asks me.
“Let’s help Mama first, and then we’ll swim.”
Hugging her mom’s leg, Ani smiles at me to show how she remembers the way to make people feel better.
I believe with all my heart that this radiant child will one day forget the pain she suffered early in life. Sunny protected Ani until my family could bring them in from the cold.
Though Sunny might never be as fearless or forget as fully as Ani, she pushes herself today. First by walking a few inches from where the water crests. Then by shuffling closer and closer until her toes disappear in the surf. Ani imitates her mother before again stomping around in the water.
Sunny reveals a big grin. Not only because Ani’s fearless nature grows every day, but because she conquered her own fear.
That’s how our life will be in the beginning. Sunny learning about the world and herself. Right now, everything holds such a huge significance for her. Is she kissing me like other women would? Did she use the right words? Will she ever feel exactly like she thinks she should?
With time, Sunny will find her way, and I’ll be with her for every step.
NERI
I never want to leave home again. While this feeling will likely pass, right now, everything about Playa Cielo is perfection.
Ideally, my first week home would be spent hanging out with my family and enjoying Cobain. I’m not really interested in moving to my big, empty house next door. Furnishing it will involve a lot of choices, and Kai reminds me not to overwhelm Cobain.
My brother isn’t wrong. Cobain even refuses to buy new clothes despite his entire wardrobe consisting of sweaters and jeans. I do purchase for him a package of plain, black T-shirts and a pair of black swim trunks. Otherwise, he can walk around overheated.
On our second day home, Robin finds a spot under a palm tree. This is where I often find him. Occasionally, he’ll harass a passing crab. Robin takes to the heat far better than his owner.
Sunny’s first few days at the house are filled with tears, making me worry she’s already pregnant. Then she gets her period and cries more.
Kai tries to help her understand that her period is a good thing, but she’s miserable. I show her online articles about how a woman’s cycle works. She just cries louder. Finally, Mama takes over and gives Sunny a Midol. Her emotional meltdown chills out soon after.
Watching a calmer Sunny put together puzzles with Mama, Kai asks, “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Yes, why didn’t you?” I tease despite never considering it either.
Sunny’s tears irritate Cobain. Anika’s inability to speak quietly also bothers him. He gets agitated over people visiting the house. The only time he settles down is when we’re in bed, or he’s in the kitchen. Cobain often needs something that I can’t offer.
That something shuffles into the kitchen on our fourth day home. Sunny stares at Cobain until he’s forced to acknowledge her.
“Spit it out or leave me alone,” he growls.
Sunny doesn’t do either. She steps closer and looks at the food he’s prepping. Catching the hint, he shows her how to peel a potato. When she loses her grip at one point, and it ends up in the trash, Sunny stares terrified at him. Rather than give her trouble for making a mistake, he removes the potato and hands it back once washed.
“I won’t give her a knife,” he tells me that night in bed. “If she wants to help again, I don’t trust her not to kill herself with the damn thing.”
“She’s hormonal and overwhelmed. Knives might not be smart.”
Cobain wants me to hassle him about Sunny. No doubt, if I encouraged him to teach her to cook that he’ll refuse. Instead, I just sit in the kitchen while they work each evening.
I have no interest in learning to cook better myself. I grew up happily with a mother who only knew how to make five things.
“And two are kinds of rice,” Cobain complains while we walk on the beach. “How have you people not starved?”
“Papa and Kai grill meat. Mama and I make rice. She also cooks a fantastic fish stew. Otherwise, we order in. You overthink things.”
Cobain takes his meal choices very seriously. Feeding the family is the only activity that he has complete control over. We live in my parents’ house in a strange country where he has no job or responsibilities. Robin doesn’t need his attention, and I’ll soon be back at work. Cobain requires an outlet, and no one except him wants to cook.
Well, Sunny does, but she doesn’t know anything. Kai even had to teach her how to use the microwave during our first week home. Most days, she just stares dazed at my brother. Though she’s calmer when they’re alone on the beach, Sunny is clearly overwhelmed and grows flustered by any choice or change. Just like Cobain.
Anika thrives in the new house. She loves the pool, immediately dances when she hears music, and never stops talking. But she falls apart if Sunny isn’t visible. Her mother can’t even use the bathroom without Anika following.
That’s why I entertain her while Sunny and Cobain cook. My niece and I draw in the mornings and play small puzzles in the evenings. During lunch, Mama sings and dances with her in the attached family room. Those are the only times Sunny gets without her daughter under foot.
Well, except for naptimes when we coax Anika into sleeping downstairs with Mama. If we’re successful, Sunny and Kai can steal an hour alone.
“Five years,” I tell Cobain while sitting on the beach one morning with a cup of coffee. “I don’t think I can handle a child any sooner.”
“Why are you telling me this as if I’m the one asking for a kid? I never want one, remember?”
Smiling at his tone, I sense he might change his mind. Not because of Anika. No, his fathering instincts come out with Sunny.