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The microwave explodes.
Nani sighs and bangs her head against the side of the fridge, Lilo chuckling from behind her. “Not a word,” she orders, eyes closed.
“I didn’t say anything,” Lilo says. She walks into the kitchen, fanning the blackish smoke that’s emitting from the now third defunct microwave in the last two years. As Nani picks her head up to look, Lilo reaches her hand out to start poking at it.
“LILO!” Nani jumps forward, snatching her away as a final spark crackles. “Don’t. Do. that,” Nani orders, through gritted teeth.
“I was only checking,” Lilo shrugs, nonplussed. She tugs her way out of Nani’s grasp and heads over towards the coffeemaker, masterfully pushing buttons that plague Nani until the kitchen no longer smells like burnt plastic, but heavenly bitter coffee aroma.
And burnt plastic.
Nani accepts the mug that Lilo passes her, and the two of them head out to the porch for a reprieve from the plastic smell. As Lilo plunks down on the steps, Nani marvels at her gangly limbs. She prays to any god that will listen that Lilo never surpasses her in height, Nani’s not sure if she could suffer the indignity. She reaches over and runs a hand through Lilo’s hair, recently chopped just above her shoulders on a whim. Nani had walked into the bathroom and nearly tripped on the locks of jet black hair covering the floor. Lilo had shaken her head, grinning as she caught Nani’s eye through the mirror. “Like it?”
“It’s a little uneven.”
Lilo shrugged. “I kinda like it that way. Plus reaching the back was hard, and Stitch isn’t… well, he wouldn’t have been any help anyway.”
“I could have tried,” Nani pointed out.
“You looked busy,” Lilo turned to begin cleaning up the mess, and something in Nani’s chest clenched. “Didn’t want to bother you.”
“It wouldn’t bother me Lilo.”
Lilo had looked up, a flash of something like confusion running over her face before she pulled a neutral face. “Well,” she shrugged again. “Next time then?”
Lilo doesn’t shrug her way out of Nani’s touch now. Which feels like a massive improvement, too little too late. Nani watches as she sits there, tapping her feet against the steps, sipping at her coffee. Nani gave up on telling her not to drink it a year ago. She’ll be college bound in a matter of months. Plus, she doesn’t want her to get any taller. Maybe the coffee will help with that.
“Do you want to do it when I get off work?” Nani asks. “I can bring home dinner, then we can do it at sunset. At the beach. He might have liked that.”
Lilo goes still, and Nani waits her out. After a minute, she nods, chugs the rest of her coffee and stands up. “I’m gonna go get ready for school.”
“I can make you something—”
“No,” Lilo cuts her off, but she smiles as she does it. “Don’t want to spend first period with a stomachache.”
Nani sighs, and sips her own coffee, trying not to take offense. Her lack of culinary skills has always felt like an outward, obvious sign of her lack of parental skills, and it chafes, to this day, no matter how many moments of levity it’s given them.
Nani takes her time finishing her coffee, by the time she throws back the dregs, Lilo comes running out of the house like a maniac, the bus beeping for her to hurry from down the lane. Her cropped hair flies around her face, and she nearly trips and falls flat on her face. “Bye!” she hollers, and jumps onto the bus. Nani can hear the other children laughing. Mertle’s red hair flashes from a window and Nani resists the urge to flip off a seventeen year old girl. Nani’s never been, but she hopes that college girls are kinder than they are in high school. Or, at least more accepting of oddballs like Lilo.
The bus pulls away, and Nani heads inside to deal with the aftermath of the microwave’s demise. The smell of burnt plastic lingers, no matter how much Febreze she sprays. They can’t afford another one right now. Nani sighs as she hauls the dead thing out to the trash. Another one bites the dust.
…
…
By noon, Nani wants to scream.
This restaurant is a tourist haven, and Nani’s not sure how many more rich white folks asking her about luaus she can take today. David rolls his eyes as he passes her with a full tray of dishes and Nani responds in kind.
Four more hours. She can deal with four more hours.
…
…
Nani is exhausted when she gets home, and there’s a weird smell coming from the kitchen. “Lilo?” she calls out, wary.
“It’s for school,” Lilo spits out, the second that Nani turns around the corner.
She coughs and starts gagging, covering her mouth. “This is for school?” she rasps. “I thought I was supposed to be the one who ruined the kitchen.”
“You are,” Lilo grins. “I’m just taking over for you temporarily.”
“Smartass.”
Lilo’s grin widens, going crooked as she turns to the left on instinct, ready to pull Stitch into the conversation. The empty space beside of her feels gapping and too-wide, like how the whole house felt after the car crash for months and months and months. Lilo’s face falls.
“I’m sorry Lilo,” Nani says, crouching down to sit near her.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know,” Nani sighs. “But I think we should.”
“Not now,” Lilo insists. There’s something in her expression that kills any protest that Nani might have made; she steps aside and nods. Lilo books it out of the room and once again, Nani is left alone in the kitchen with something vile. Only this time it’s not her fault.
She cleans it up anyway.
…
…
Lilo comes lumbering down the stairs with her arms full and nearly does a face plant. Nani has to jump to catch her.
“What are you—”
“It’s for the ceremony,” Lilo insists, grave.
Nani looks down at a basket full of kazoos. She closes her eyes, but nods. “Okay Lilo.”
They fill up the back of David’s entire truck bed. Lilo sits between the two of them, their shoulders all brushing with every rattle as they make their way down the lane to a secluded beach. One that tourists and even most of the locals don’t know about. David gives Nani a soft smile across the top of Lilo’s head.
“It’s quiet,” Lilo declares, once they pull to a stop.
“Yeah, the very opposite of him,” David jokes. Nani holds her breath as she waits for Lilo’s reaction, but she surprises her and cracks a smile.
It takes them three trips to drag all of Lilo’s stuff to the spot that she picks. Nani’s got sand in her hair, dirt underneath her fingernails, and she is sweating her way right through her shirt, but Lilo’s eyes are doing that shadowed, gaunt thing, and she’s gone still and quiet, the way that she did after their parents died, so, Nani grits her teeth and digs for the both of them.
“Nani,” Lilo says, voice barely above a whisper. Nani jumps out of the dirt and is beside her in a blink, and Lilo clutches at her hands. “He was my only friend.”
“So far,” Nani corrects. “There will be more.”
Lilo’s eyes are watery and her grip on Nani’s hand is tight. “Promise?”
“I do. No one as goofy as him though. Who knows, maybe even another alien.”
Lilo holds her hand as David gently lowers Stitch’s body into the ground. Lilo opens her mouth and sings some Elvis Presley, belting out and smiling through watery eyes when Nani and David join in. David adds in some hip action that causes Lilo to crack with laughter until she’s gasping for breath in Nani’s arms. The laughter shakes into tears, and Nani wraps her arms tighter, kisses her temple, and picks up the rest of the song when Lilo can’t keep it up anymore. She finishes the final note, David gives an exaggerated hip shake, and then the three of them sit on the sand and watch the sun set over the water.
“I miss him,” Lilo whispers into Nani’s neck.
“Yeah, me too.”
Lilo looks up and studies Nani’s face, looking to see if she’s telling her the truth. Hilariously, she is. Nani never would have guessed it ten years ago, but that stupid blue alien wormed his way into her heart. Into their family.
Lilo smiles and nuzzles in closer, and the three of them listen to the sound of the water for what feels like hours. Lilo’s half asleep by the time they decide to head out, and Nani shifts her into David’s arms. She gathers their blankets as David carries Lilo back into the truck, pausing to look at the marker that Lilo picked out for Stitch. There are rainbow streamers attached to it. Nani smiles. “Thank you,” she whispers into the night. “She needed you. We needed you. I’m really glad that you crashed to Earth.”
Nani walks back to the truck and climbs in, and Lilo curls into her side.
…
…
Nani rushes downstairs. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” she chants, underneath her breath. She’s going to get fired this time, there’s no way around it. She is beyond late.
“LILO!” she hollers. “THE BUS!”
“It left,” Lilo mumbles, holding out a coffee mug.
Nani snatches it. “Into the car, come on!” she orders, running past Lilo without stopping. She throws her bag into the back and jumps into the driver’s seat. Lilo comes dashing in on the other side, and the second she yanks the door closed, Nani peels out of the driveway.
“I’m going to get fired.”
“You say that every time. They never fire you. You’re the best waitress there.”
“I’m an average waitress.”
“You’re an amazing waitress.”
Nani shoots a glance over at Lilo. She’s serious. Nani smiles to herself. “Thanks, Lilo.”
She’s uncomfortable, or embarrassed. She shrugs and reaches forward to fiddle with the radio, static crackling until she finds a clear station. Elvis Presley croons and both of them go silent for a moment. Lilo’s hand is frozen hovering by the dial. Deciding if she wants to change it or not.
“You ain’t nothing but a hound dog,” Nani sings along.
Lilo sucks in a breath, lowers her hand, and opens her mouth wide. “Crying all the time,” she sings back, adding an exaggerated twang to her voice. They’re both laughing by the time that Nani pulls in to Lilo’s school. “Bye,” Lilo grins, and leaps out in the half second that Nani slows down.
She doesn’t get fired. But it’s this close.
…
…
Nani slumps into the kitchen. “I think I’m dying. I smell so bad, and a woman threw soup on me. She says that she didn’t throw it, but I know that she is a lying little — Lilo?”
“Surprise!”
“What…”
Lilo leans over on top of the brand new microwave, grinning up at Nani. “Don’t blow this one up,” she warns. “Or you’ll starve when I go to college in the fall.”
“Shut up,” Nani rolls her eyes, but she’s grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. “Where’d you get the money for this?”
“I’ve been saving up my allowance for years. I figured a little dent wouldn’t kill me. But not being able to eat would kill you.”
“I, am an adult who can eat food without a microwave,” Nani insists. “Plus, there’s cereal.”
Lilo laughs, a deep belly-shaking thing that fills Nani up until she forgets all about the bitchy soup lady. She wraps her arm across Lilo’s shoulders, kissing her temple. Lilo allows this for about four seconds, then she wrinkles her nose and shrugs away. “Nani, you smell like burnt lentils.”
“SHE THREW SOUP AT ME!”
“Did you blow up her microwave?
“You’re a brat,” Nani grumbles.
“And you love me.”
Nani rolls her eyes, but she’s unable to stop the grin from breaking out onto her face. “And I love you,” she says.
Lilo preens.