by Kay Bratt
Maria quickly poured her a cup of coffee and brought it over along with a jar of sugar and a tiny pitcher of cream.
“Kona coffee, of course,” she said, setting it all down before returning to the stove.
Quinn gratefully took the mug, doctored it, and took a sip. She nearly closed her eyes in ecstasy as she let her taste buds do a happy dance. Why was Hawaiian coffee so amazing?
While Maria cooked, Quinn watched Alani with her grandfather.
He was helping her with some sort of multiple-choice quiz. She read the questions aloud. He didn’t give her any answers, choosing instead to gently guide her to find the solution herself. She talked herself through it while he barely glanced at the paper, instead using his calm presence to encourage her along.
“Did you swim today?” Alani looked up, addressing the question to Quinn.
Quinn could kiss her for breaking the awkward silence.
“No, but I did go to the beach. It was lovely. Do you like to swim?”
Alani nodded. “Pali’s going to teach me how to surf.”
The grandfather let out a small chuckle. “I think you’ll probably conquer the board yourself before he gets a chance to be your instructor. He’s too wrapped up in football right now.”
“And girls,” Alani said, grinning at her grandfather, which made him laugh again.
“No, Alani, he also doesn’t have time for girls,” Maria said.
Alani looked at Quinn and gave an emphatic nod coupled with raising her eyebrows. She obviously knew something her mother didn’t, and Quinn smiled back at her, feeling her heartstrings pull at her soft innocence. Maybe somewhere deep down she understood that her father was gone, and her world was not as it should be, but her sunny outlook was still there, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Maria pulled some plates from a cupboard, filled them, and delivered them to the girl and her grandfather. She went back and returned with three glasses and a pitcher of juice, setting them down.
“You’ve done a good job on your schoolwork,” Kupuna said to Alani, then picked up his fork and began eating. Alani poured them juice, then followed suit, her gusto at digging in so fast a contradiction to her small stature.
It smelled good. The plates overflowed, the traditional breakfast of eggs, rice, and a slice of fried Spam making a colorful presentation. Quinn almost wished she had accepted the offer of food. Then she remembered why she was there, and her appetite retreated.
Maria fixed herself a plate and a cup of coffee and sat down across from Alani.
“Your brother will be in when his nose tells him there’s food on the table,” she said, winking. She turned to Quinn. “Don’t pay attention if he moves through here like a thundercloud. He’s not happy about losing the guesthouse, but he’s packing up all the same. Should be out by noon.”
“Oh no,” Quinn said, already shaking her head. “We need to talk about that.”
Her goal was to get them out of there. She wasn’t moving into the guesthouse. Things had to be in order before Ethan came.
The grandfather put his fork down and wiped his mouth, staring a hole through Quinn. “Just what plans do you have for this house?” he asked.
Quinn felt the flush creeping up her neck. She didn’t meet his eyes because she felt like a thief.
“First would be the kitchen,” she finally said, looking the room over. “It needs new countertops, and the cabinets need painting.”
“I’ve wanted new countertops for years,” Maria said, talking around the huge bite of eggs she chewed. She sounded like she was trying to lighten the conversation as she peered up at her father.
“Then what?” he asked, ignoring Maria’s comment.
His expression was so solemn. Quinn fidgeted. She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t exactly sure, but she felt he knew that she already had a list compiled. Something told her he’d call her out if she even tried to slip a little white lie out there. As though he were some sort of shaman with special powers to see into her head, which of course she knew he wasn’t.
“I’m sure the hardwood floors in here used to be beautiful. I’d like to restore them to their original glory,” she said quietly, praying her answer wouldn’t offend him or Maria. This was their house, after all, and they probably thought it was fine just as it was.
He nodded. “That sounds like a good start.”
Quinn almost fell out of her chair. He was agreeing with her? Could it be that he would be the hero—the one who got Maria and the kids out and let Quinn have the home she’d just plunked down a lot of money for?
“You will stay in the guesthouse. While we are looking for a new home, I’ll arrange for our—I mean, your—work to be done in the kitchen. I can get the island discount. It’ll cost you triple if you organize it yourself. By the time it is done, we will be out.” With that, he pushed his plate away and drained the last of his juice.
Quinn wasn’t sure how to respond. His tone had made it clear that he’d accept no debate or arguing. Quinn had never known a grandfather, but if she had, she would’ve imagined one like Kupuna, a no-nonsense sort of fellow who could also turn to mush when helping a child with homework.
“How long do you think it will take?” she finally asked.
“It will take as long as it takes,” he said, then stood and turned, shuffling out the back door.
It slammed in his wake, and Quinn jumped.
As long as it takes? What was that supposed to mean? Did the old man think that everyone was on island time? She had a life to get back to.
She looked at Maria, who had stopped eating and bore a stricken expression.
“I’m so sorry. He’s accustomed to being the patriarch. It’s the Hawaiian way, but I can talk to him,” she said, but Maria’s eyes implored her with a silent plea that Quinn could feel all the way to her bones.
This was one of those moments in life that defined the kind of person you were. Quinn could make it simple. She had every legal right to involve officials and could probably have the house empty by nightfall. She didn’t even have to be present to watch them gather their things and leave.
But could she live with herself afterward?
Her thoughts scattered back and forth, from one angle and option to another so quickly she felt dizzy. Was this the universe’s way of teaching her a lesson?
Before she could get any words out, the door opened, and there stood Maria’s son, his expression defiant when he saw Quinn—his sudden enemy—sitting there.
“Your room is ready, Your Highness,” he said, crossing his arms and glaring at her.
Alani sat upright and clapped her hands. “I love that! Can I be the princess?”
Her outburst broke the tension, and Maria laughed first. Alani looked from her mother to Quinn, confused. Her innocent expression was priceless and prompted a miracle.
Pali’s scowl dissolved, and he laughed too.
Quinn felt instantly lighter. How bad could it be? It could even be an experience she’d never forget, if she could possibly allow herself to embrace the positive in the circumstance instead of focusing on the negative. Who knows, maybe she’d even learn something authentic about her mother’s heritage.
Alani was still waiting for an answer.
Quinn gave her one. “I think you’re already a princess, Alani. And guess what? Your mom can be the queen.”
Maria met her gaze, gratitude beaming from her now-moist eyes. She clasped her hands to her heart. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I promise this will work out.”
Quinn hoped so. If it didn’t, she’d have to prepare herself for the worst “I told you so” lecture yet.
Chapter Six
Quinn finished unpacking her suitcase, stacking her clothes on the love seat of the cottage until she could ask Maria for hangers. Her mother’s ashes were placed on the nightstand, an attempt to make the house less lonely. It was weird that she was even there unpacking. But as usual, it was easier to give in than to say no.
She
’d taken her time going back to the hotel and checking out, hoping she’d figure out a way to wiggle out of the arrangement without making things worse.
But nothing had come to her, and she finally had to return to Maria’s home—no . . . her own home—and settle in. The small guesthouse was just that—small. But it was enough for her. Only four hundred square feet, it made her think of the tiny house shows all over television, a new fad sweeping the mainland. It seemed that people everywhere were becoming tired of dragging along too much stuff—physically and emotionally—and opting for new lives free of clutter to live in teensy homes that were barely bigger than a toolshed.
She could see the draw, too, and had binged on the tiny house episodes, thinking how freeing it would be to walk away from her fancy too-modern condo and start somewhere new, just a suitcase of belongings in her possession. A simpler life.
Now she was getting to test it out, whether she wanted to or not. Coming from the mainland, she supposed what was a completely foreign concept of inviting a stranger into your home was just normal in a place where hospitality was the core of the culture.
For such a small space, everything she needed was provided. In addition to a tiny bedroom, the guesthouse—or cottage, which she felt described it better—boasted a living area, a kitchenette, and a bathroom. The whole interior was decorated simply, in a style that continued the island theme: strong bamboo furniture with flowery cushions that begged to be snuggled into with a good book.
Outside was a cozy porch, or lanai, as they called it in Hawaii, boxed in by tropical trees and plants, including a banana and a lime tree where she could sit with a cup of coffee and have privacy from the main house.
Pali had taken out most of his things, though Quinn was a bit surprised to find a small ashtray peeking out from under the couch. It held ashes that smelled curiously un-tobacco-like. In her opinion, he was a bit young to be experimenting with weed, but it wasn’t any of her business.
Maria said she’d made up the bed with fresh linens, and for that Quinn was grateful. One thing she couldn’t make herself do was sleep on sheets that had been broken in by a teenage boy.
“I’ve stocked the small refrigerator with some staples, and you’ll find coffee in the cupboard. Kupuna made a call to his contractor friend, and I need to watch for him to arrive,” Maria said, then retreated back toward the house.
“Call me when he gets here,” Quinn called out, and Maria held a hand up in acknowledgment. It was Quinn’s house, after all, and she would be paying the bills. She hoped that Kupuna didn’t think he was calling the shots.
She went to the bathroom and carefully set out her toiletries, lining up her makeup on the counter in the order she used it, another trick she’d learned to make her mornings more efficient.
In the kitchen, she checked the pantry cupboard, noting which spices were available in case she wanted to cook a meal. She was tiring of restaurant food, but she had no intention of joining Maria’s family at the table.
There needed to be some boundaries in place.
She was not their friend.
Then she saw that Maria had left a small vase of beautiful lavender orchids on the coffee table. Beside them was a note jotted on a yellow Post-it.
Welcome to Maui. Hope this new friendship will continue. See you at dinner. Love, Maria
Quinn sighed, then went back to unpacking. Finally, there was nothing left to do, and she sat down on the love seat, sinking into the worn but comfortable cushions. There wasn’t a television, but a small stack of books on the side table caught her attention.
She picked up the one off the top.
Rogue Wave.
She flipped it over and read the book description. An explosion sets off a series of massive waves that could obliterate all the islands of Hawaii.
She put it back and rose, going to the lanai. Outside, she sat down at the table and leaned back, closing her eyes for a minute. She was weary. It had been a stressful morning, to say the least. Not every day did she move in with a family who just a short time before were complete strangers. Also, her time was running out. She’d asked for two weeks’ vacation, but after that, she needed to return. To a job that was sucking the life out of her.
She had to admit, despite the awkwardness of the situation, leaving the hotel was somewhat of a relief. It wasn’t as though she were enjoying any of the amenities like the pool or the restaurants. And she would technically be on her own property, though it still didn’t feel that way. At least here she wouldn’t feel so alone.
As though on cue, her phone rang.
Quinn jumped up and went back into the cottage. She pulled the phone from her pocket and looked at the screen before swiping. Her heart skipped, and she felt herself tensing.
“Hi,” she said.
“What’s going on, Quinn?” Ethan said.
No greeting and he had that tone. Not a happy one.
“Well, hold on. Let me sit.” She was buying time; she knew that. She settled herself onto the love seat, leaning forward.
Big breath, then dive in.
There was a long pause.
“So, how is it?” he asked. “Is it all you’d hoped it would be?”
Quinn bit her lip. She could visualize him running his fingers through his hair, styling it to the left as he liked it to go, a subconscious reflex even when stressed.
“It’s a beautiful home. But there are a few issues,” she finally admitted.
“It’s old, Quinn. It’s going to be nothing but issues. I could’ve saved you—saved us—a lot of headache if you’d just listened. So what is it? Plumbing? Bad neighborhood? What are the problems?”
“No, the plumbing is fine, as far as I know. But unfortunately, there’s a snag with the previous owners.”
“A snag?” he said, his voice suspicious.
Quinn could feel her pulse escalate.
“Yes, a snag. They’re sort of still here.”
“Still there? Like in the area? What do you care?” Now he sounded impatient.
“I mean like still here—in the house. It’s complicated, Ethan, but they haven’t moved out yet.” There, she’d said it.
He was silent so long that Quinn pulled the phone from her ear, looking at it to see if he’d hung up. He hadn’t.
“Ethan?”
“I’m here,” he said. “Listen, I don’t even need to hear why they haven’t moved out. But you can let them know they’re on borrowed time, so they’d better be packing. I’ll see if I can get a flight out tomorrow after my meeting.”
Quinn felt a rush of panic. When Ethan slipped into business mode, he was like a bulldozer sweeping through, no thought of collateral damage.
“No, don’t. I’m taking care of it,” she said, nearly biting through her lip. “You don’t have to come.”
More silence.
She talked faster. “It’s just a minor misunderstanding. They’ll be moving out soon, but in the meantime, they’re going to help me get some work started inside.”
“Quinn,” Ethan started, his voice low and pleading. “Listen to yourself. You always do this. All it takes is for some chump to hold up a sign begging for money, or a kid knocking on doors asking you to buy some two-dollar roll of wrapping paper for thirty bucks. You’re no doubt getting taken advantage of. Again. These people are obviously squatters, and I’m sure Hawaii has a law against that.”
Quinn felt a familiar feeling well up inside her. Something like frustration, but tinged with a helping of quiet resentment. She thought of Maria inviting her to sit at her table, to eat with her family.
“No, Ethan, they aren’t squatters, and I’m not being taken advantage of. I’ve got this handled, and I’d appreciate it if you had some confidence in me,” she said, cringing at how shaky her voice came out.
“Can you understand why I don’t, Quinn? I told you not to buy that house, that it would only be a pain in the ass. Now I’ve got to deal with it. But I can tell you this much: once I get them out of the
re, we’re going to flip it and get it off our hands.”
Our? Quinn didn’t remember him contributing any funds, and his name was definitely not on the papers. Now she was really irritated. But if she didn’t play it right, he’d simply come over and do what he did best, and she’d be left looking like a heartless fool.
She thought of Maria standing there wringing that towel, and then saw Kupuna at the table, helping Alani with her homework.
Quinn was glad she hadn’t left any paperwork related to the house behind. It was all in her carry-on, and the only other place she had details about it was on her laptop, and she had that too. So Ethan didn’t have the address.
She breathed deeply, reminding herself to stay calm. He couldn’t come stomping in and throw everyone out in a fit of rage.
“Ethan, I appreciate you wanting to help. I really do,” she said. “But this time I’m going to have to say no.”
“No what?”
“No to everything. Don’t come right now. I’ll call you in a few days,” she said, then hung up the phone.
She was trembling. She’d never hung up on him before.
Her hand released the phone as though it had a mind of its own and thought it was holding a snake. Quinn stared at it, lying on the cushion, praying it wouldn’t ring. Ethan was likely now sitting in shock more than three thousand miles away. Or possibly grinding his teeth, as he did when someone really ticked him off.
Now she had even more to make up to him. He was trying to help her, she knew that. But this time she needed to figure it out herself. She wasn’t sure just why yet, but this felt too personal to let someone else handle.
“Quinn?”
She jumped, startled.
Alani was standing in the doorway.
“Yes?”
“Can you take me to the beach?” she asked, tilting her head to the side in an adorable way.
Quinn took a deep breath and relaxed her expression. “I’m sorry, Alani, but I can’t. Why don’t you ask Pali?”