by Kay Bratt
She’d actually forgotten how calming it could be. Stretching her arms over her head, she wiggled her fingertips to the sky, exhaling as she reached higher and higher. She moved gently forward until she was on her hands and knees, then raised her middle until she was in downward dog.
“Why do I keep finding you in compromising positions?”
She dropped quickly, embarrassed to find Liam standing over her.
“I don’t know. Why do I keep finding you standing over me?” she asked, irritated by his stealthy approach.
He didn’t pick up on the hint to leave her alone. Obvious from the short laugh.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were coming back tomorrow?” She pulled at the tank top she wore, covering the square of cleavage there.
He sat down at the table. “No, I said I’d get you the estimate tomorrow. This is Tuesday. I always come on Tuesday afternoons and help Maria with dinner. I brought the pork.”
“Oh. I guess I could’ve helped.” She stood, wiping her hands together to rid them of invisible dust. Anything to keep from looking at him.
“She hasn’t started yet, so she’ll welcome that, I’m sure,” he said. “There’ll be about sixteen to twenty people coming.”
Her head jerked up at that. “Sixteen to twenty?”
He nodded. “She does it every Tuesday. Friends and family, and whoever in the neighborhood is having a tough time knows they can stop by and feed their kids. Everyone brings a little something and together, it goes a long way.”
Quinn sat down at the table. “That’s really . . . admirable.”
He shrugged. “It’s not about that. It’s just the way it’s done here. My mother does the same thing on Sundays. Maria, Kupuna, and the kids usually come. They weren’t there last week. I think that’s because of what’s going on here.”
Her face flamed, but she wouldn’t let him get away with making her feel guilty. She lifted her chin. “Look, I didn’t know anything about Maria’s troubles. I just bought a house that was for sale. I paid, and the contracts were signed, fair and square. Everything was legal.”
He paused, scrutinizing her before continuing. “I’m not judging you, Quinn. I’m just telling you the facts.”
Now she really did feel guilty. There was no judgment in his eyes. Only compassion for the family. “Sorry. I’m a bit defensive. This has put me in a bad position, but I still don’t like seeing a woman as nice as Maria going through something like this.”
“It’s a sad situation,” he said.
“Do you have any idea why her husband left?”
“I’d be the last one to try to understand what goes on between a husband and wife behind closed doors. And I’m not one for gossiping. They call that the ‘coconut wireless’ around here.” He smiled lightly. “I leave that to others who are better at it than me.”
“Oh, I wasn’t asking for gossip,” Quinn said. “I just wish there was some way I could help Maria.”
“You’re doing that now,” he replied. “Most mainlanders would’ve kicked her out the day they got here to claim their property. You’re giving her some time to figure out what to do. The whole family is talking it over, though resources are scarce for everyone.”
They let the silence fall around them for a moment.
He looked up, his expression changing. “Oh, I also wanted to tell you that Maria showed me some old hurricane shutters in the attic. She said she’d forgotten about them. I think they’ll look nice cleaned up.”
Quinn felt a rush of excitement. Hurricane shutters would really help move the house more toward the beach-cottage look she was envisioning.
“I’d like that,” she said.
“Good. Maria was hoping you’d say that. She’s wanted them back up for years. It’ll be easy. We just have to clean them, then sand them down and paint them a soft shade of white. With a little work, they’ll be good to go.”
“Thanks.” Quinn could see the list getting longer and the money adding up. She hoped he wouldn’t charge too much for adding the shutters on. She still had a healthy balance from the inheritance, but beyond what she’d allotted for remodeling issues, she considered the balance her nest egg, or her just-in-case money. Just in case of what, she wasn’t sure yet.
“No problem,” he said. “Want to talk story?”
“Talk story?”
He laughed. “Sorry, I forgot you’re new here. Talking story just means we share something about ourselves. Our family. Our life.”
She felt herself tense. That was an abrupt turn. Too abrupt, actually.
“It’s complicated.” She fidgeted with her toes against the leg of the table.
He shrugged. “I get it. You’re guarding your privacy, and that’s good. If you want to talk, though, I’m all ears.” He pulled his ears forward like a monkey, and Quinn laughed.
He did have a way about him, she had to admit. He could go from tough guy to silly in a matter of seconds. She supposed sharing a little with him wouldn’t hurt.
“I bought this house with money from my mother,” she said.
He raised his eyebrows. “Now that’s a good mom.”
“The only problem is, I don’t know where she got the money. She’s native Hawaiian. She left here when she was pregnant with me, and we’ve always lived a simple life.”
“So ask her?” he said.
“She passed away a few months ago. It was an inheritance.”
His eyes turned sad. “I’m sorry.”
Quinn nodded.
“What about a relative? Maybe someone recently left it to her, and she didn’t have time to spend it before leaving it to you?” he asked.
“We never came back to visit, and I don’t know any of my relatives.” She closed her eyes for a second, frustrated at herself for revealing too much. He sure had a way about him.
He looked taken aback. “None of your relatives?”
“None,” Quinn said, her voice so low it was almost a whisper. She opened her eyes and looked at him, smiling to hide her pain. “My mother cut off communication with her family when I was too young to remember. I’m pretty much an orphan. Unless there’s some long-lost kin here waiting to embrace me with open arms, and believe me—that’s a long shot. Especially seeing how I don’t know how to find any of them.”
Liam shook his head. “Wow. I can’t imagine that. Here in Hawaii, ohana is everything. Not knowing your family must’ve been unbearable.”
“It wasn’t so bad,” she lied.
His expression turned serious. “You know that coconut wireless I mentioned? Maui isn’t very big. I’m sure I could ask around about your family. If you want me to, I mean.”
Quinn weighed the possibility. Did she really want to know? She thought about the lineage company she’d sent her DNA off to. Was a part of her relieved that nothing had shown up? Life had been simple with only her mother to feel officially attached to. Later, when she and Ethan became official, it would get more complicated. How crazy would it get if she found a grandmother? Or cousins? Or, God forbid, unearthed her wayward father?
The thought made her feel a nervous flutter in her stomach.
“Thanks. I’ll think about it,” she said.
He started to say something else but was interrupted by Maria poking her head out the back door of the main house.
“You two planning to help out?” she called.
Liam tilted his head toward Quinn, a silent challenge.
“So . . . you want to learn how to feed a bunch of hungry Hawaiians?”
Quinn took a deep breath. It was ironic how much alone time she no longer had now that she’d bought a house. She gazed toward the cottage door. Her laptop was just on the other side, and she should probably do some more research. And call Ethan. She should contact her boss, too, to ask for another week. There were also nearly thirty more work emails she should answer.
She gazed back at him.
Everything else could wait.
“Fine. Let’s get it
over with,” she said. After all, she’d wanted to learn more about her mother’s culture, even if it did challenge her to put her introverted tendencies aside.
Quinn leaned back, taking in the sight before her. It was dusk, and as the sun set gently over the water, she couldn’t imagine a cozier scene. While the grounds on the resort were exquisitely designed and meticulously maintained, the atmosphere didn’t hold a candle to what Quinn was feeling on this tourist-free sliver of beauty that Maria’s family inhabited.
This was the Maui she’d wanted to see. To feel. Not the fancied-up resorts and golf courses that she worked in every day.
Preparing dinner and then sampling all the dishes was a test of endurance that Quinn almost failed. The food was simple, but delicious and plentiful. Her mother had introduced her to a few Hawaiian recipes growing up, but somehow she missed giving her the experience of tasting laulau. Quinn didn’t understand why, because it was now officially her favorite food.
With Maria’s supervision, she’d wrapped small portions of pork in layers of taro leaves, and then Liam had set them outside to cook in the underground hot-rock oven. When it was done, it created a deliciously smoky taste. The leaves had softened, and the meat was so juicy and tender that it melted in Quinn’s mouth.
She went for seconds and wished for thirds.
There were also several different kinds of sushi and the mung bean noodles cooked in chicken broth that her mother had always loved. The table was overflowing with dishes people brought in, as everyone came with something, whether it was a simple fruit or a jug of homemade wine.
The biggest surprise was Maria’s cookies. Quinn had never tasted anything like them. She was glad she’d gotten to have one, as they were the first thing to disappear once the people started arriving. Many of them got the cookies even before their main dishes, just to be sure they had one at the end of their meals. The cookies were small, buttery squares of shortbread—but unlike any shortbread Quinn had ever had. She’d asked what was in them, but Maria wouldn’t tell.
“A secret recipe,” Kupuna had muttered from where he sat at the table.
Maria laughed. “He’s right. It’s secret. My mother passed it to me. She worked in the cafeteria for one of the public schools here. Every day she baked the cookies and stacked them in five-gallon tins. They sold for a nickel, and the kids took them home wrapped in wax paper. People here on the island have been trying to re-create this recipe for thirty years.”
“I bet I can figure it out,” Pali said as he tried to peek over her shoulder.
She shooed him away. “One day your wife will get the recipe,” she said, laughing at his antics. “It will be your inheritance. If you behave.”
Quinn thought of her mother again, and the mysterious money.
While Maria was busy in the kitchen, Alani introduced Quinn around. The faces were so many that they blurred together. One small, elderly woman made quite an impact on Quinn, though. She introduced herself as Gracie Wang of the original Wang family, whose ancestor was washed onto the island of Honolulu from a shipwreck in the early 1800s. Her great-grandfather had jumped island and made his fortune in the Maui sugar plantations, then married a local woman. Auntie Wang, as she said she preferred to be called, was clearly proud of her heritage and made for an interesting character.
The entire affair was a flurry of activity, and everyone pitched in to put the kitchen and patio back together before most of them headed to the beach. Quinn followed and was amazed that in the blink of an eye, a circle of chairs and logs was set up, and someone had started a bonfire. As the adults found somewhere to sit, Alani and Junie and the other children ran around chasing the surf back and forth as their laughter rang out.
Quinn took a chair and used her feet to dig into the sand, letting it roll over her toes in a cocoon of warmth. Maria took the chair beside her.
Liam had disappeared briefly, but now he emerged from the path, leading Kupuna with one hand and holding a ukulele in the other.
There was something about the way he led the old man. Liam was gentle, guiding Kupuna around a few piles of brush, then to one of the best chairs, obviously left just for him. Kupuna settled in, staring off like he’d been prone to do.
Liam took a seat on a log and turned to the guy beside him to talk.
Then it hit her. And she felt immensely ignorant. In the glow of the firelight, she could feel her face burn with embarrassment at her oversight.
Kupuna was blind.
She should’ve figured it out earlier. So many times he’d stared off into space and had never made direct eye contact with her. She just hadn’t put two and two together. Now she felt ashamed for being so nonchalant about meeting him. About talking to him. About how she’d treated him. That was what her brain was throwing at her faster than she could process. Just when she thought the situation about displacing a family couldn’t get worse, it did.
Now she was throwing a blind man out of his house? She felt sick.
Maria settled back into her chair, then turned to Quinn. “Well, you ready to hear Liam make some music?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Quinn whispered.
“Tell you what? That he plays? Just about everybody and their cousin plays around here. Liam just happens to be better at it than most.”
“No, not that. Why didn’t you tell me your father is blind?” Quinn asked.
Maria turned to look at her, though in the dimness it was hard to distinguish her expression. “I didn’t think I needed to. Couldn’t you determine that on your own?”
“No,” Quinn said. But what she thought was of course she couldn’t, because she was self-centered and focused only on getting what she wanted. She was a terrible human being, and every day she was there she was being reminded of it.
Maria put a hand out and squeezed her knee. It felt awkward, someone touching her with affection. “I think if I told Kupuna what you just said, it would just make his day. He never wants to be treated differently because of his loss of sight. And once he finds out he got past you for quite a while, you just might be his new favorite person.”
Quinn didn’t reply. Before she could think too deeply on Maria’s words, Liam started to strum. Suddenly, his music lulled everyone into a quieter state. It was slow and sweet, and when he added his voice to it, it was pure magic. The soft sounds he was making were a direct contradiction to the raw, masculine figure that he cut. Quinn wondered who his significant other was, as it was a song clearly written out of love.
As the melody wafted through the night air, even the kids returned to the circle, perching on knees or finding another place to sit, drawn like moths to a flame. Quinn found herself falling into the moment, the tension she usually carried fading away until her body felt light and free.
“He had his heart broken once,” Maria said, seemingly reading her mind. “It was a long time ago. That’s how he is able to play so passionately.”
When he slipped into a more melancholy tune, Quinn realized Liam was a man who knew sadness. Maria was right. No one could sing like that unless they’d known sorrow.
She was just about to ask Maria about it when, from the glow of the firelight, she saw a glint of a tear on her face.
Quinn leaned over close to her. “What’s wrong?”
Maria shook her head. When the song was over, she turned to Quinn.
“There’s a long story behind those words,” she said. “And that was also Jaime’s favorite song. Liam always played it for him. I miss him sitting here next to me, listening. We were supposed to grow old together, watching our children’s children play on this very same beach.”
Quinn didn’t know what to say. How could a woman miss a husband who had wronged her so deeply? It was unimaginable. Abandoning a family without even leaving word of why?
“I’m sorry,” she said, unable to think of anything better.
“I just worry about him,” Maria whispered. “Our marriage was good. This doesn’t make sense. But I pray to the gods
every night that they will watch over him, wherever he is and whatever he is doing. That he will just make it through to the next morning. Then I begin the prayers again at daylight.”
That was a serious case of commitment, Quinn thought. If Ethan dropped out of her life without a trace, she’d probably find a voodoo doll and stick pins in it every night, not say prayers of protection for him.
Liam started another song, the lyrics telling of a couple destined to be together but parted by a long distance. It seemed all of his songs were also stories.
But Quinn’s mind was still on Maria. She realized that despite their different paths in life—one of them focusing on family and the other on career—they had a lot in common. Both of them were weighed down under a mystery that caused them worry and anguish. Maria didn’t know what had happened to her husband and the marriage she thought was solid, and Quinn was clueless about where and whom she came from.
Would either of their mysteries be solved? Quinn didn’t know the answer to that, but she did know that for the first time in a long time, she felt a kinship to someone other than her mother.
Then she had an epiphany.
What Maria needed most right now was to find out what had happened to her husband. Liam had to know something. Or his famous coconut wireless could find out. As he said, Maui wasn’t that big, so how far could one man go?
Liam was the key to finding Jaime. And maybe her dad, too, if she ever decided she was ready to look. Quinn wouldn’t take no for an answer. And when they found Jaime, he’d better be ready to be blasted, because Quinn wouldn’t leave him alone until he found a way to make right all the things he’d done wrong. She’d make him face Maria and his responsibilities. It wasn’t fair for Maria to struggle through such huge life changes alone.
If Maria had her husband to help them out, then Quinn also wouldn’t feel so guilty about taking their home.
That settled it. She’d call her boss in the morning. He’d be shocked, but she was going to ask for a leave of absence. As for Ethan, he would just have to keep managing without her for a bit longer.
