True to Me

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True to Me Page 11

by Kay Bratt


  Ethan had left her a message:

  Thinking about getting a dog. What are your thoughts?

  A dog? Quinn shook her head. She’d wanted to add a dog to their life for as long as she could remember, and he’d always said it wasn’t the right time. Now he chooses to dangle the dog offer? While she was five thousand miles away?

  He was obviously feeling his loss of control over her and thought the possibility of getting a dog would reel her back in.

  She laid the phone aside and picked up her laptop, then signed in, opened her email, and waited for the new messages to filter in. She and Ethan had bigger issues to get through before adding more complications to their life. In a way it was sweet that he knew what would lift her up, but, on the other hand, it was irritating that he’d use it right now. She didn’t respond.

  As soon as her in-box refreshed, mixed in with a half dozen work emails, she saw a message from Auntie Wang. It was time-stamped after midnight, which was really only a few hours after Quinn had emailed her the link and password to the ancestry site.

  Could she have found something that fast?

  Her heart beat out of her chest, but she clicked on the message:

  Quinn, I have good news and bad news for you. First, your birth certificate is indeed a fake and doesn’t come up under any Maui hospital birth records. Don’t fret, we can still look up your mother and go from there. All we need to find is a relative of hers and that will get us started. Second news is better. You missed some steps on the genealogy site. I went through them, and you have a close match, but it’s from an anonymous user. I sent them a message. No need to reply to this message, I’ll let you know when/if I hear back. —Auntie Wang

  Wait. Quinn scanned the message again.

  Her birth certificate was fake? What did that mean? She was adopted? She was born somewhere else?

  She felt dizzy for a moment. Why had her mother disclosed one truth that would lead to so many more questions? Quinn wished her mom would’ve had the courage to come clean much earlier, when there was still time to explore what else she was hiding.

  And an anonymous match? Quinn didn’t even know you could participate anonymously. Why would someone go to the trouble to register and then not want their information known?

  Once again, something told her that if she could find Carmen, she could find answers. She opened Facebook and tried again to search for Carmen Crowe, this time without adding Maui. Carmen could’ve moved to the mainland too. Or another island.

  Way too many Carmen Crowes popped up. Trying to find someone who looked like the same Carmen from a decades-old photo was daunting.

  She might’ve married, too, dropping the name Crowe.

  It was impossible to narrow it down.

  Quinn felt like a failure as an investigator.

  She closed her laptop, suddenly glad that she’d given the search over to Auntie Wang. Let the eager woman chase the bread crumbs for a day or so, and then just maybe they’d find something less depressing.

  It would be good to keep busy today.

  She slid out the door.

  “Quinn,” Maria called, her head poking just out her back door. “Come join us for breakfast. Please.”

  Quinn wasn’t that hungry now, but Maria wasn’t likely to take no for an answer, so she quickly crossed the small yard.

  After a quick meal and some laughter that had turned sour when Alani asked her to attend Pali’s upcoming football game and he groaned with disappointment, Quinn retreated outside, her feelings hurt. She didn’t know why she should care, but she did. She reminded herself that the boy was missing his father and, on top of that, had just found out that they were losing their home.

  Out the back door, the shutters were laid out and the sander plugged in, waiting. After her visit with Auntie Wang the day before, they had all worked together to finish scrubbing them, loosening and removing years of grime. With all of them working together, laughing and talking story, it hadn’t even felt like work. Quinn had felt sorry when it was done, and they all retreated inside to get ready for bed. Liam was the last to leave after taking his time to inspect every shutter multiple times, insisting that Quinn keep him company.

  When he couldn’t find any more spots to complain about, he had said his goodbyes, and Quinn waved, then slipped into the guesthouse and went to bed.

  But the morning was beautiful, and she decided to enjoy the quiet for a bit after breakfast, settling into the chair on her small porch.

  Liam chose that moment to come from around the side of the house, a bundle of extension cords in his hands and a huge smile across his face.

  “Aloha kakahiaka,” he called out. “That means good morning, in case you aren’t up on your local Hawaiian phrases.”

  He winked.

  The wink threw her, and she forgot what she was going to say. “Are you always so cheerful?” she finally asked, crossing her arms.

  “Pretty much,” he said. “Are you always so grumpy?”

  “I’m not grumpy. It’s just early.” Maybe she was grumpy, but she wasn’t admitting to anything.

  He paused, his smile disappearing for a second before he recovered and put it back in place. “Fair enough. Let’s get to work,” he said. “I don’t want to get behind on this project.”

  “Agreed,” Quinn said, thinking of Ethan and his threats to come over and straighten everything out.

  “But”—he looked back at her after picking up the sander—“Auntie Wang called me this morning and insisted I show you some of the island. She said you’re like a lost water nymph with no idea which way to go.”

  He laughed quietly.

  Quinn crossed her arms even tighter. “I’m not lost. And I’m definitely no water nymph.”

  “Now, don’t go getting all flustered up. She means well, and, really, don’t you want to see some of Maui while you’re here?”

  “I’ve seen some. I drove all over Lahaina the other afternoon, and I walked up and down Front Street.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “Tourist stuff. What about the Road to Hana? Did you drive that?”

  She shook her head. “The girl at the rental car place said that was the one destination I couldn’t take the car, and I’m not about to join a tour group.”

  He came and stood in front of her.

  Quinn really did want to see more of the real Maui, but something about being so close to Liam in his vehicle—she wasn’t even sure what kind—it just made her hesitate.

  “That settles it,” he said. “If we get done sanding today, tomorrow morning, bright and early, we hit the Road to Hana. The countertops are delayed again, so I’ve got my painting crew coming. They can handle it. I told Pali he was in charge, and that made him happy.”

  She started to ask for a rain check, and he put his hand up.

  “Do you want to call Auntie Wang and tell her you refuse to see her island?”

  She sighed. Going up against him didn’t faze her, but the thought of arguing with the persuasive woman was a bit frightening. And she did want to see some of Maui. She’d promised herself before she got there that she was going to be brave and do things. So far that was a major fail.

  Except for the water.

  She’d gotten into the ocean and had survived. There was that.

  And she’d had a magical moment with a sea turtle. How many people could claim that?

  “Fine,” she said. “But I don’t want to stay gone long. I’m waiting on Auntie Wang to follow up on something. If she emails me again, I want to be close.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Sounds important. Want to tell me more?”

  “Not yet,” Quinn said. “I don’t want to jinx it. I don’t even want to think about it right now.”

  “Then follow me. I have just the something that will keep your thoughts at bay. You are about to find out why men love power tools so much.”

  By evening, they were done with the shutters, and Quinn was freshly showered and sitting on her bed, s
taring at her computer screen. She’d begged off from dinner. She needed some space. Things were beginning to feel too comfortable. She reminded herself that she was still the one who was going to be putting the family out, though it seemed figuring it all out kept eluding them each day.

  The clock read six thirty. That meant it was after midnight on the East Coast. Still, she needed to talk to Ethan. She wanted to feel that connection again. To remember that she had another life that needed her back.

  She picked up the phone and scrolled to his name, hesitating for a moment before hitting the “Call” button. She leaned back on the pillows, telling herself to relax, this was the man she loved.

  One ring, then two.

  She didn’t even know what she was going to say to him.

  Did he miss her at all? Would he be mad at her for waking him?

  Third ring.

  If he didn’t pick up now, it would go to voice mail, and she’d hang up.

  It clicked.

  “Hello,” said a soft voice on the other line.

  Quinn sat straight up in bed, pulled the phone from her ear, and double-checked it was Ethan’s face looking at her from the screen.

  It was.

  But it wasn’t his voice.

  “Um . . . sorry, I thought I was calling Ethan . . . ,” she said tentatively.

  Silence on the other end. One second. Then two.

  “Quinn?” the voice asked.

  “Gina?” Confusion flooded her. “What are you doing there? Where’s Kevin? Is Ethan okay?”

  Gina hesitated. “He’s fine. He’s right here. Sleeping. I saw your name and it’s—well, it’s late. I thought it might be an emergency, so I picked up.”

  “It’s only dinnertime here,” Quinn said. But wait, Ethan was sleeping? Gina saw her name? She tried to understand through the fog that filled her thoughts.

  “But—but, I don’t—what are you doing there, Gina?”

  From the other end of the phone, Quinn heard a long sigh. It sounded resigned.

  “Quinn. I—I’m sorry,” Gina whispered. She sounded as though she was pleading.

  It hit Quinn like a brick wall.

  It was after midnight, and one of her closest friends was lying in the same bed as Quinn’s fiancé. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to put it together.

  And what about Kevin? For God’s sake, he was Ethan’s best friend. Not even thinking of herself, Quinn’s heart squeezed for him. This was going to kill him. Kevin was a good guy. And totally in love with Gina. Everyone knew it. Ethan knew it! And what about Ethan? Did he not love her either?

  Quinn felt sick to her stomach. Her head swam, stars gathering just out of reach. She wanted to scream at Gina. To insist she wake up Ethan.

  “Say something, Quinn,” Gina said.

  Quinn resisted throwing her phone at the wall. What the hell did Gina expect her to say? Should she ask her what she thought of Ethan’s physical prowess now? Or beg for details of how and why this had happened? Convince her to leave and never darken their door again?

  There was a lot Quinn could say. Could demand.

  Instead, she clicked the “End” button, cutting the connection that traveled between her and Gina instantly. But it didn’t cut the pain. She dropped the phone and fell over to the side, bringing her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, her body going into a fetal position as she fought to protect herself from the onslaught of thoughts and the sudden nausea.

  But she couldn’t.

  She thought of Gina, the image of her backside in spin class always coming first, since that’s what Quinn saw the most of as her so-called friend competed to be the fastest and most enduring in the room. Quinn was usually sweating like mad by the end of the session, while Gina stepped off the bike still looking like she’d just arrived.

  It was disgusting.

  Yes, Gina was fit. Sculpted. Probably every man’s dream.

  And Ethan. Always the competitor. The risk-taker. He loved nothing more than a dangerous challenge. Always thinking rules didn’t apply to him.

  But she’d thought that commitments did.

  She uncurled herself and lay back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. One silent tear fought its way out of her eye and rolled off the side of her face, dropping into her ear and creating a tickling sensation. She brushed it out with her fist, surprised that she could still feel anything through the numbness that was traveling through every nerve cell in her body.

  This time he’d gone too far.

  Quinn wouldn’t be waiting on the sidelines to cheer him on. From now on, he could hold his own damn towel.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning, Quinn found herself pressing her feet against the invisible brake on her side of Liam’s truck when he got too close to the car ahead of them. They’d been driving only about half an hour, and already Quinn was feeling a bit carsick from all the weaving and bumping down the narrow roads.

  She also felt sad. Defeated. Confused.

  But she tried to push thoughts of Ethan and Gina out of her mind. She needed to process it slowly. He’d tried to call her all through the night. Texted her a couple dozen times. Quinn hadn’t even read the texts. Not yet.

  She wanted him to suffer. Make him beg her to respond.

  While she resisted, she also wished a case of the most vicious food poisoning on him—wait, no, it needed to be smallpox. Or maybe something that would disfigure the face he was so fond of looking at in the mirror. Really hit him where it hurts.

  But then she also wanted to know why.

  Why? Why? Why?

  Was she not enough? Did he do it to punish her for leaving him behind? Had this been going on before she left, even? She thought about how different Gina was from her. Sexier. Loud. Vivacious.

  Basically everything she wasn’t.

  It made her feel worse.

  Breathe, she told herself. Just breathe.

  Inhaling deeply, she let the air fill her lungs, expanding in her chest and surrounding her broken heart.

  To top it off, she was still reeling from the news that her birth certificate was fake. What did that mean? It was all so confusing.

  But she needed to hide what she was feeling today. She didn’t want Liam to be suspicious and start asking questions. It wouldn’t take much for her to break down completely.

  They’d left Paia Town—and some of the best coffee she’d ever had at Paia Bay Coffee—at least half an hour before, and Liam said the next stop on their list was going to be Twin Falls.

  “So Paia is where all the surfers hang out?” Quinn said, still thinking about the town behind them and especially the colorful fencing she’d seen made up of surfboards of all sizes and shapes.

  “That’s it. Funky town, where all the surfers, artists, and hippies flock together. There’s also a dash of incognito celebrities roaming around if you look close enough.”

  Just from the short look she’d gotten, Quinn had loved the laid-back vibe and small-town feel of Paia. There she saw more of what she considered normal people—not those floating around in fancy resort wear, playing the part of the pampered and elite. Ethan would’ve hated the atmosphere, as one of the things he loved most while on vacation was being catered to. She decided that she’d come back to Paia really soon and just spend a day exploring all the interesting shops and boutiques.

  And people watching. She wanted to see more of the locals there, their expressions tolerant as they tried to live their daily lives among the constant crowds of the curious and sometimes demanding tourists. Their waitress had intrigued her, her long, thick hair streaked with blonde but also peppered with gray. Her skin was weathered, as it should be, the area around her eyes dotted with lines that looked well earned. She was friendly and inviting and, when asked, said that she’d come to Maui as a teenager and never left. When she said that it was nearly thirty years ago, Quinn thought that the island life must surely be some sort of fountain of youth.

  “We could’ve g
otten a breakfast sandwich up here for about three bucks,” Liam said, pointing at a small store they were passing. The sign said KUAU MART, and the parking lot had a few cars. Unlike the shops in Paia, it didn’t look overly crowded.

  “That would’ve been fine with me. Why didn’t we?”

  He laughed. “Auntie Wang would have my hide, that’s why. She said to give you a proper experience, not a meat, egg, and cheese on a large croissant from the local mart. Though, I’ll admit, they are legendary for their breakfast sandwiches.”

  Quinn sighed. “A croissant and a cheap coffee would’ve been just fine. You said you weren’t going to treat me like a tourist.”

  He glanced at her before putting his eyes back on the road. “Be careful what you ask for.”

  They came up on a curve, and Liam pulled to the side, allowing the large truck on their tail to go around.

  “Hana people,” he said. “They might live in paradise, but they still have to go back and forth to work, and nothing ruins their day more than getting held up by sightseeing folks. The polite thing to do is pull over and let them by.”

  The truck blew its horn as it went by, and Liam held up a hand in the familiar Hawaiian gesture she’d seen him do earlier to another driver.

  The horn scared her, and she jumped. Just inches from where the truck was, she could see a steep drop-off. Another foot and they could’ve been rolling down the cliff to their deaths. She concentrated on keeping her expression neutral, trying not to show how nervous she was, but her stomach clenched under the damp shirt she wore.

  “What’s the hand signal mean?” she asked, deflecting the thought of death.

  “What? A shaka?” He did it again, shaking it at her. “It means hang loose, or to just chill. Was started because of the surfing culture here, but now everyone uses it.”

  Quinn pushed the hair back from her eyes. Liam didn’t use air-conditioning as they rode. Apparently none of the locals did. They liked the clean Hawaiian air flowing through their windows, cleansing the soul, he claimed. Air-conditioning was poison, he said, laughing when she pushed back the sweaty strands of hair that the wind had blown out of her twist.

 

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