Memory Documentation

chapter four | documenting life's ohanas

I wavered by the door, holding Evan's gift in one hand and my scarf in the other. Call it paranoia, but I couldn't help be slightly worried for Papa as he stayed home feeling under the weather. Past experiences have conditioned me to slip into an immediate state of anxiety and not wanting to leave his side.

He must've sensed my weariness as I hovered by the door because he assured me, saying, "Oh, wipe that look off your face. I'm all right, honey."

Teetering on my toes, I was still overcome with hesitance. "London will be in classes today, so she won't be around if you need anything."

Papa gave me that look, the one that said chill out, kid, as he came and wrapped the knitted scarf around my neck. "I promise it's nothing serious. You'll be the first I call if I feel like there's something wrong. In the meantime, I need you to hold down the fort so I can rest up for tonight. In fact, why don't you ask Chris if he's busy tonight. I'd love to see the boy again."

I perked up at the thought of seeing him again. Last night's message kept me guessing about what he had in store for tomorrow. I tried pestering the answer out of him, but to no avail. He just kept being annoying and cheeky about it, sending me winky faces and shrugging emojis.

"You won't mind if he comes?"

"Not at all," replied Papa with a squeeze of my shoulders. "That boy was ohana once."

✿❀✿

Papa's words stayed with me throughout the day, resonating even more as the whole staff sat together at the giant combined table, gathering like a family on Thanksgiving. Evan told us more about how his wife and son were doing, which then strayed to more stories about everyone else's families: Ronnie's unaccepting parents, Ben's too slack parents, Nina's aunt and uncle that she stayed with after she turned ten. It put me in a rather reminiscent mood.

If there's anything I've come to really appreciate in life, it was the number of families you find yourself apart of throughout your life. Not just the ones you're born into, but the ones you make with different groups of people. You become so close-knit with one group of people that it's a whole different level of family. It's the people you see so often, click so well with, that a bond of trust and love develops. The girls at the orphanage were my family for a long time until Pa and I became a two person family, but then there was this crazy bunch at the Brewing Café. London was like family, too, as she so often reminded me of Jessica and the way she used to look out for me.

Man, did I really miss everyone.

How was Sylvia? I wonder how Emmery is doing . . . and Carles, Zarah, Albany, and Edan, too. Missing them like this, is this what graduation felt like? When everyone goes their separate ways for college? I mean, for people who had friends, at least... I had a feeling my post-graduation would be a lot less sad than others.

"Hey, why the down look all of a sudden?" asked Chris, nudging me with his elbow. He came 'round after school and did his homework upon accepting my invitation of joining us tonight. A good hour or so after was spent pre-doodling goofy faces onto a pack of paper bags. It was nice to see him again so soon, but his mere presence pushed me further into my nostalgia.

I frowned and put down my fork. I was more lost in my thoughts than I was in the food, which was a rare thing to say considering meals were always phenomenal when our chefs, Nina and Jack, made them.

"I'm okay," I told him, smiling faintly. "All this talk is making me think about the past. Everyone I've left behind. Kinda sucks when you think about just how many people you used to see so much and now haven't seen in years."