True to Me

by Kay Bratt

  Auntie Wang giggled. “Nope. Because I’m not lying. I decided first thing this morning that I am going to put together a small organization to go into the schools and do historical presentations. This new generation thinks the only culture we come from is a long line of surfers. It might take an outside group to tempt their curiosity. Of course, I need Miss Carmen Crowe’s input before making a decision about whether to pursue this or not.”

  Quinn smiled. “You’re brilliant, Auntie Wang.”

  “I also wanted to tell you not to worry about tomorrow. You’ll be in a public place, and it’s a big step, but not a sure thing. This person might not even be related. Anything on the computer can be manipulated these days, Quinn.”

  “I know. I’m not getting my hopes up,” she lied. If by some chance this was not a relative, Quinn was going to be devastated.

  She took one more look in the mirror, hoping her makeup was right, then headed out the door. Outside the kitchen, Liam and a small group of painters were setting up tarps and stacking paint cans.

  “Aloha,” he called out, lifting a hand before turning back to the crew of men dressed in white pants and shirts. He’d brought help to finish painting while he rehung the kitchen cabinet doors. Quinn couldn’t wait to see the old wainscoting polished up. Even the shiplap should be hung by nightfall.

  “Morning,” Quinn responded, then headed to her rental car. She hated that it felt awkward with him, and she wasn’t even sure why.

  But soon he’d be done, the family would move out, and she would go home. No sense in worrying about it, she reminded herself.

  “Wait!”

  Quinn turned around to find Maria hurrying toward her.

  “Hi,” Quinn said.

  Maria had a huge smile, and when she got near enough, she hugged Quinn tightly.

  “Well, you’re in a good mood,” Quinn said, feeling a bit awkward.

  “I sure am,” Maria said. “I’ve got a job interview lined up later.”

  “That’s great!” Quinn smiled, watching the excitement play across the woman’s face.

  “And . . . are you ready for more good news?”

  “Absolutely,” Quinn said, almost adding that any good news would be welcome to offset what felt like months of the opposite.

  “I’ve found a rental up on the north end of the island that we can afford. If I get the job,” she added. “The landlord said he’d break my deposit up into payments too.”

  Quinn felt instant relief. Maybe it was all going to be okay after all. Maria and her family would get a new start, and Quinn’s spur-of-the-moment house-buying adventure could be recovered.

  “Oh, Maria, I’m so glad,” Quinn said.

  “You’ll be proud of me for this, too, but yesterday I boxed up my entire room and even gave away a lot of it to the church for the summer yard sale.” Maria rattled on about how it felt good to begin cleaning out the clutter; then she moved on to the kids changing schools and other details, but what Quinn noticed most of all was that Maria seemed to be taking everything in stride now.

  “I’d better run, Maria,” Quinn said. “I need to get to the airport to pick up my friend who is coming for a short visit. I want to make sure I leave early enough in case there’s a traffic jam.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. Is it your fiancé?”

  Quinn felt a stab in her gut. “No, it’s my best friend from many years back.”

  “That’ll be nice,” Maria said. “And you’re right, one fender bender can put you back an hour or more. Be careful.”

  She waved and returned to the house. Quinn saw Kupuna standing in the doorway, and as she climbed into the car, she wondered what he thought about moving to the other side of the island. So far he hadn’t mentioned much about having to leave his home, but he did give advice on the various projects that were going on. He said the house had needed a makeover for years. Quinn wondered how he knew, considering he couldn’t see it, but obviously he knew every inch of it.

  Yes, the house was finally coming together, and since the countertops were still held up somewhere, the plan was to tackle the floors next.

  All the changes were going to look amazing.

  At least one thing was going right.

  Traffic wasn’t too bad, and the drive gave Quinn a lot of time to think about her current state of affairs. She was so lost in thought, automatically following the GPS directions, that she was surprised when she arrived effortlessly. She found short-term parking, pulled in, and shut off the car.

  She checked herself in the mirror, took a deep breath, and climbed out.

  The sidewalks were busy, lined with cars and people checking luggage at the kiosks. The tourists were easy to pick out, as they looked confused navigating around in their flowered shirts or sundresses, the locals moving around them smoothly, wearing less ostentatious clothes and carrying plain travel bags.

  Quinn went through the doors, and the atmosphere changed yet again. Inside, it was a mixture of vibes of elation from arriving passengers, happy and eager to have made it to Maui, and the disappointed and holiday-hungover people getting ready to make the sad trek back to reality.

  As for herself, she was stuck between excitement to see Maggie and anxiety that their friendship wouldn’t feel the same. That the easy and effortless vibe they’d always had would be gone, making the next few days even more stressful.

  Quinn walked to the arrivals section and spent the next half hour staring out the window, too anxious to take out her phone. At two minutes until arrival time, she stood and went to stand near the door the passengers would be coming from.

  It was a brutal combination of emotions that taunted her as she waited for her best friend to walk off the plane. She tried to calm herself by stroking the soft flower petals of the lei she’d bought inside the door. Maggie had never been to Hawaii, and Quinn wanted to try to make it special. Her thoughts spiraled out of control. They hadn’t seen each other in a few years. What should Quinn say to her? Should she hug her? Apologize first? Avoid talk of the time they’d been apart? Quinn didn’t know what to do. Other than her mother and Maggie, she’d never really been able to bond with other women. It was hard for her to open herself up, and she just never felt like she fit whatever it was they seemed to be looking for.

  A few feet away, a mom sat beside two teenage girls, their heads down as they texted frantically. When she and Maggie were growing into teens, texting was just becoming popular among their crowd, but their moms were protective and didn’t even allow them to carry cell phones. Quinn was glad they hadn’t. She and Maggie had actually talked to each other. It was called conversation! With real words, her voice traveling into the wall phone and through a cord she’d stretched down the hallway as far as it would go. Their experience made for a deeper connection than she felt teens got these days with their chasing each other all over social media.

  Quinn thought about their first prom and how quietly upset she’d been that she hadn’t been asked. Maggie had her date secured before almost anyone. But at the last minute, she arranged for him to go with someone else so that she and Quinn could go together, claiming she didn’t want to be stuck with the same guy all night anyway.

  The next year both of them had dates, and they’d doubled. Quinn went with a long turquoise dress, and Maggie a short black stunner with sequins that showed off her amazing legs. Quinn’s date drove, and they’d laughed like crazy when the two boys picked them up in his dad’s pickup truck. Squeezed in like sardines, the four of them had the best time that night.

  They’d ended it at Quinn’s house, and her mother had arranged the ultimate sleepover for her and Maggie. She had ice cream laid out on the kitchen counter with every topping imaginable in tiny bowls around it. They’d rented movies—the old-school way, before internet streaming came along—and her mom had whispered to Quinn how thankful she was that they’d come home safely and not chosen to go party.

  Quinn wasn’t the type to put her mother through that kind of emotional di
stress, even when Maggie sometimes hinted they were missing out. Quinn was just glad to have gone to the prom at all, since she wouldn’t have if not for Maggie.

  As soon as the thought came to mind, Quinn lifted her eyes to see Maggie—first one off the plane, of course—making a beeline straight for her. She looked different—more mature and vulnerable, even—but those lively green eyes were the same. They practically danced with excitement.

  Instantly all Quinn’s doubts were gone. Nothing had changed. They still had their bond.

  They met in the middle, and Maggie dropped her bags and enveloped Quinn in a bear hug, lifting her off the ground an inch or so. Quinn laughed through the tears that were falling and felt her heart rush with emotion.

  When they let go, she put the lei around Maggie, who was also shedding a few tears.

  “Your hair!” Quinn said, reaching for a long red strand. It fell almost to Maggie’s waist in a dancing wave of movement, flowing like fire.

  She laughed. “I know. I was trying to have a totally different look, so I stopped coloring it and let it have its way. And they were right—blondes do have more fun. I need to find my way back.”

  “No, you don’t. It’s beautiful this way,” Quinn said. It reminded Quinn of the days before they’d both discovered hair color and highlights. “And you look great. You’ve lost a lot of weight, though.” She couldn’t get enough of looking at her, dissecting each change.

  “It’s been a stressful few years.” Maggie lifted an eyebrow, reminding Quinn of their long conversation the night before.

  “Well, let’s get out of here,” Quinn said, picking up the carry-on bag that Maggie had dropped. “Did you check luggage too?”

  “Nope. This is it. You know me, I like to be free as a bird.”

  That was the Maggie Quinn remembered—the fiery redhead who had helped her through some of life’s most angst-filled moments. She squeezed her one more time for good measure, feeling surreal that she was really there in the flesh, and they headed for the door.

  Quinn slid her feet back and forth, letting the sand fall over them in little cascades before doing it again. Tonight the water was calmer than usual, rushing in to the beach and then easing back out in a seductive tease. Tomorrow was going to be a monumental day, but for now, she only wanted to concentrate on Maggie. They’d had dinner with Maria, Kupuna, and the kids—at Maria’s insistence—and Maggie had charmed them all. Then on the way to the beach, she had exclaimed over how weird the situation was.

  “You look really natural in this setting, you know,” Maggie said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so relaxed.”

  Quinn hadn’t thought about it, but Maggie was right. With each day she spent there, she was becoming more comfortable, despite the issues with the house and now the anxiety of finding a relative.

  She stared out to sea. “I do feel different here. I love the sound of the ocean. It soothes me and reminds me of my mom. Since she was from Maui, I’ve always connected her with the sea but never actually felt her presence like I do here.”

  “Have you decided where you’ll spread her ashes?” Maggie asked.

  Quinn shook her head. “With all that has been happening, I haven’t figured it out. I think my subconscious won’t let me.”

  “It’ll come to you,” Maggie said, reaching over and rubbing her hand.

  They’d grabbed a blanket, wine, and glasses, then found the perfect place just off the path from the cottage. They settled down on the sand with an amazing view of the water to finish filling in all the blank spots they’d missed in each other’s lives. They’d started with the easy stuff. Quinn talked about the house, and Maggie told her about Charlie, beaming with adoration as she described a rough-and-tumble tiny boy who melted into her arms at bedtime. That led to the story about Colby, Charlie’s dad, and how when she found out she was pregnant, he freaked out.

  “I mean, I really can’t blame him. I was a total nutcase when suddenly my belly outgrew my brain. One night he ate my leftover taco, and I sobbed like I was at a funeral. He didn’t know whether to go get me another taco or have me committed.”

  Quinn threw her head back and laughed.

  “Then when we brought Charlie home, I had a month off from work, but I felt like a complete failure. Colby would come home to find me still in my pajamas, my hair unwashed for the second or third day in a row and the house looking like a tornado had streaked through.”

  “I’m sure having a newborn is hard stuff,” Quinn said. “I haven’t even had a puppy yet.”

  Maggie laughed. “Oh, I’d say having ten puppies isn’t as hard as having a baby. Some mothers talk about how heavenly it is and how they’re filled with maternal bliss for years on end. All I could do was pray the little alien hanging on my boob would sleep for more than half an hour at a time.”

  “Did Colby help at all?”

  “He tried. But it was awkward. One minute he’s a sexy bachelor chasing after the girl of his dreams, then he catches her and—oops!—he has an instant family and doesn’t have time to go out with the boys anymore. I felt like he was resentful. He claimed he wasn’t. I told him I wanted him to leave, that I’d raise our son myself. I said it in anger, but we were both too proud to back off once we blew up.”

  That made Quinn sad. Maggie did have a stubborn streak.

  “He really tried, though. He took me to every doctor visit,” Maggie said softly. “He did the birthing classes, and he was there when Charlie was born, coaching me through it like a boss. I think Colby fell in love with him the minute the nurse placed him into those big, rough hands.”

  She sounded like she was still in love with him, but Quinn knew better than to push her. “It must be hard to be a single mom.”

  Maggie looked at her quickly, then gazed out to sea. “Yep. Even before the Ghost came along, this was the hardest damn thing I’ve ever done in my life. You don’t realize it at the time, but the infant stage is actually the best part. I don’t know how all these Instagram moms do everything so perfect and still look like a million bucks in all their photos. I’m almost glad I had to erase myself from all social media. At least I don’t have that impossible depiction of motherhood in my face all the time, taunting me that I’m more or less a domestic failure. It’s made it a lot easier when some days it’s all I can do to thaw out chicken nuggets and give him his third Juicy Juice of the day.”

  “I bet you do just fine,” Quinn said.

  Maggie shrugged. “My mom thinks so. I hide all the sugary cereal and faux fruit snacks on the rare occasion she visits. For all she knows, I’m feeding him three servings of fruits and vegetables a day and washing him with homemade, chemical-free soap while we recite the alphabet backward and forward.”

  That made Quinn smile again. Maggie’s mom could be quite type A when she wanted to. She had pushed Maggie into being an overachiever all the way until the tenth grade, when her daughter finally sat her down and told her to back off.

  “Anyway, nuggets are protein, and ketchup is vegetables, right?” Maggie said, smiling again. “I don’t give her enough credit, though. She’s changed, Quinn. She’s more relaxed with him than she was with us.”

  “I’ve heard that’s how it is with grandparents.” Quinn felt a catch in her breath when she thought of her own mother. She would’ve been such an amazing nana.

  Maggie didn’t notice, because she kept talking. “Having Charlie is still the best thing that ever happened to me. I talk like motherhood is torture, but really, when he lies beside me with his hand in mine, falling asleep as his beautiful eyelashes flutter gently, I melt. I feel this powerful love well up in me that is so big it could heat a nation. It’s times like those that I realize I’m not just getting through the days, I’m soaking them up, collecting all his childhood memories and storing them safely in my jar of hearts. I stop worrying about the wet clothes I left in the washing machine or the foot-puncturing toys on the floor that’ll greet me in the morning. I remind myself that my baby went to
sleep safe and happy, and I tell myself I’m doing okay.”

  “Good. Because you know what? Okay is enough,” Quinn said. “Some parents can’t even reach that milestone. I’m sure Charlie is a great little boy, and I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “Auntie Quinn.” Maggie smiled. “You’ll be all kisses, hugs, and story time. That’ll be a big change from all the roughhousing he gets from his uncles.”

  “Do they see him much?” Quinn remembered Maggie’s older brothers as being really protective of her, and always into outdoorsy things. At least Charlie would have some very macho male figures to look up to in his life.

  “More now that the Ghost is locked away.”

  Quinn wanted to know more about Colby, because she could tell Maggie hadn’t gotten over him yet. But Maggie changed the subject, refocusing the spotlight so it wasn’t on her anymore.

  “What are you going to do about Ethan?”

  Quinn let all the air out of her lungs as she struggled for the right words to say. “I don’t really know yet. I love him. Or at least I did. I think I still do. But I hate him too. At least right now.”

  “You know, I always felt like he’d do something like this,” Maggie said softly.

  That took Quinn by surprise. “You did? Why?”

  Maggie paused, then released a long sigh. “There was a time or two he said some inappropriate things to me. Eased up too close in passing. He let his hands have a bit too much freedom.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” It was a question tinged with soft accusation, but Quinn couldn’t keep it in.

  “I wanted to. But you acted like he was everything to you.”

  He was. He is. Still, she’d have wanted to know.

  “I didn’t want to shatter the illusion of Mr. Perfect,” Maggie said. “You based your entire future around him. I just couldn’t mess that up. I’m sorry. But I told him straight out he’d better never try anything with me again, or I’d go straight to you. That’s when I guess he told you to stop spending time with me, because the calls started to get further apart. Then you started ignoring my text messages.”