by Kay Bratt
Even Pali had turned over a new leaf, actually becoming quite a nice kid. He’d simply needed his family back together. And Quinn was starting to understand just why that mattered so much.
“I’ll see you two soon,” Maria said, stepping away. “I’d better go corral the troops.”
Liam turned to her. “There’s a lot happening right now. People changing places, switching jobs, and building new relationships.”
She nodded. “I just hope I don’t screw anything up.”
“You won’t. But do you think your brother can handle the responsibilities you’re giving him? Could it be too much too soon?”
She hesitated. Quinn’s brother was a tender subject. She felt responsible for Jonah. For his troubles. She’d also found out that he was the lone survivor of an IED attack that had killed everyone else on his truck in Iraq. The trauma he carried had to be more than one man could bear. It had gnawed at her every day since she’d met him, especially after Jules had told her more of his story.
“I don’t know. But I want to give him a chance. There’s a small studio apartment off to itself on the property that’ll give him the privacy he wants. He says he knows how to do maintenance, and as long as he doesn’t have to deal with a lot of people, he can do it. The only rule I set was that he has to stay clean. But so far I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. He wants to prove to Noah that he can do something right.”
“So, you ready to go?”
“I think so,” Quinn said.
They were riding together. Quinn needed him by her side as she took care of this last thing before starting her new life.
“Let me tell Maria we’ll meet them there.” He went inside for a minute; then they walked out to the Jeep.
“This is a fine ride you got here,” he said, buckling up. “Nice bumper sticker too.”
“Thanks. It’s been a long time coming.” She pulled out of the driveway and took a left. Quinn had never put stickers on her car before. Ethan wouldn’t allow it, saying it was tacky. The first day she got her Jeep, she bought one that said “Live Pono” and slapped that baby on. She loved the sentiment that meant to do the right thing, and she planned to do just that from now on.
She’d already gotten a huge start too. Things were moving unbelievably fast, but, surprisingly, Quinn was doing okay with it. She’d found a small condo to rent until the hotel was livable, but eventually she’d move into a suite of rooms designed just for her. As for her belongings in Savannah, she didn’t want them, except Ethan did say he’d send the rest of her photo albums and mementos.
Ethan was shocked when she told him all she wanted was her part of the equity in the condo and the money from selling her car. She instructed him to donate everything in her closet. She wouldn’t be needing business clothes or high heels anymore. Here, she was embracing the casual, bohemian look, something she’d always admired but had been too afraid to experiment with in the corporate lifestyle she’d lived.
Today she wore a long tie-dyed skirt and a matching headband, her hair loose and free. Her feet were comfortable in sandals, her toes painted a bright pink that she never would’ve worn before coming to Maui. No more white-tipped fingers or toes for her—from now on it was going to be every color of the rainbow on her body. Unless she wanted to do something different.
Then she would.
They approached an intersection, and Quinn stopped for the red light. They didn’t talk much. Liam didn’t need to give her directions. She’d already broken her Jeep in by driving to every beach in Maui. She wanted to see them all before making a decision, but her heart brought her right back to the one where Carmen had found her, where she’d met Noah and Jules again.
Ten minutes later they arrived. There were already a lot of people there, more than Quinn imagined would come. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents stood together, unified in what was to come.
She and Liam got out, and he pulled the vase from the back seat, handing it to her. Quinn clutched it. She was feeling more somber by the moment, but she did want to introduce Liam to her sisters. They’d already spotted the Jeep and were walking over to meet her, both carrying colorful leis.
“You don’t have to tell me who they are,” Liam said. “You three could be triplets.”
“Except I’m a lot older,” Quinn replied. “But I know, I don’t look like it.”
He laughed.
“You made it!” the first sister said, throwing her arms around Quinn.
“I’m here, but, honestly, I’m feeling kind of shaky. I just hope this goes well,” Quinn admitted. “Liam, this is Kira, and this one”—she put her hand on the other sister—“is Nalani, but we call her Lani.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said.
Quinn noticed the once-over and then the look of appreciation that Lani gave him, and it made her smile. Her sisters were some warm-blooded women. Thankfully, Kira was already married with small children, but Lani was free—and obviously wasn’t afraid to show it.
“No, the pleasure is ours. My father said you’ve done a phenomenal job bringing these three families together for healing,” Kira said.
“Most of it was because of Quinn,” Liam said, his cheeks flushing. “I just helped some of the men walk through their feelings and come to accept this opportunity as a gift.”
Auntie Wang joined them and threw her arms around Quinn.
“I’m so happy for you,” she whispered into her ear.
“Thank you, Auntie Wang, for everything,” Quinn said. They both knew that if Wang hadn’t found Carmen, this possibly would never have happened, and Quinn would still be wondering who she was. But Auntie Wang didn’t want to be the hero; she was just thrilled that she’d learned so much more about tracking lineage through helping Quinn. She’d also known that the match that had come up was a sibling, but she hadn’t told Quinn that until it all came out. She was afraid to in case he didn’t show up, and her gut had been right.
“Are the Makenas here?” Quinn asked, searching the crowd.
Auntie Wang nodded. “They are. Bless their grief-stricken souls. The Makena uncles are going to paddle out on their boards.”
Quinn looked around and saw her brother, Jonah, perched on a log, alone as he stared out to sea. Then she saw Noah and Jules sitting together in fold-up chairs, and she waved. They knew that today was more about Quinn and the Makenas. They would let her set the pace and come to them when she was ready.
“There’s Maria’s car,” Liam said, leaving Quinn with her sisters. He went to the car to help Kupuna out and over to a chair. Jaime and Maria followed closely behind.
Alani burst out next and ran over, throwing her arms around Quinn’s waist.
“I’m going to miss you, Quinn!” she said. “You promise you’ll visit?”
“Of course, Alani. I can’t just forget about my little mermaid, can I? Now run over and help your mom while I get things going.”
Alani gave her one more squeeze, then took off. Quinn was really going to miss her. She took a deep breath, then sighed loudly.
“I can’t believe everyone showed up,” she said.
Her sisters both leaned in and put their leis over Quinn’s head before enveloping her in their arms.
“You made this happen,” Kira said.
It felt so good to have sisters, though Jonah had already warned her that not too much time would go by before she got pulled into a sisterly spat. It was human nature, he kidded her, then warned her that his sisters had sharp tongues and even sharper claws when they needed to use them. Quinn had all but memorized a dozen or more stories about her siblings when they were growing up. She wanted to know everything, even if sometimes it hurt her deeply that she’d missed it.
Kira was the youngest of them all at twenty-four, and also the most spiritual. She was soft and thoughtful and very concerned about how Quinn’s sudden reunion would affect her psyche or upset her recovering aura. She was a natural caretaker, always fluttering around her family to see where
she was needed. It amazed Quinn that she had married so young and immediately produced a family, but everything told her that her sister was a good mother.
Lani was the energetic, fun-loving one with a wicked sense of humor and a streak of orneriness. According to Kira and Jonah, it was always Lani who got them into trouble growing up. She was daring and full of mischief, dragging them in when she could. And Noah said nothing had changed just because she was older now, other than that her drama had far greater consequences than when she was a child.
Quinn hadn’t met their significant others yet. She was glad because she already knew she had a lot to learn about how she would fit into the pack. Adding more personalities to it was going to make it that much harder.
“See how many people’s lives you’ve touched? You’ve brought nothing but good luck to Maui,” Lani said. “I might have to take you to Vegas with me.”
“Stop, Lani,” Kira said. “This is not the time to joke around.”
Lani’s smile turned into a scowl, and Quinn could see how they might go at each other if given a chance. It was going to be tricky to suddenly figure out how to have sisters and not side with one or the other when spats popped up.
“It’s fine,” Quinn replied. “But excuse me. I need to go talk to the Makenas.”
She searched the crowd until she found them, then headed their way. They stood side by side looking out at the ocean, not touching but close enough to do so if they wanted.
Quinn had gone to them less than a week ago, and finally they knew where their daughter had gone. Sadly, if her mother had only checked in with them, she would’ve found out that less than five years after she ran away, her parents divorced, then both found their sobriety on their own. Once they’d battled their demons, they came back together for companionship. And probably to share their sorrow that the only good thing they ever had together was gone. They’d waited for their daughter to come home, waiting with hope up to the very minute that Quinn knocked on their door and introduced herself.
It was a hard meeting but one that was necessary. There was no Elizabeth Senna. Not officially, anyway. Instead, Quinn now had to reconcile the memory of the woman who’d raised her with that of Beth Makena, the long-lost daughter of a heartbroken couple who needed closure.
Quinn had brought her box of photos when she met the couple, and sorting through the pictures gave them relief that their daughter had lived a decent life and had been happy in her role as Quinn’s mother. They admitted that the crime she’d committed against the Monroes weighed heavily on their minds but said that it appeared their daughter was projecting onto Quinn what she herself had lacked as a child: a devoted parent and a childhood free of trauma.
“It wasn’t right what she did,” Mr. Makena said, “but we understand why she did it.” Mrs. Makena agreed and said she knew her daughter probably thought she was saving Quinn from the ongoing battle between the Rochas and Crowes—and probably the curse as well.
As Quinn left them that day, they asked her if they could keep in touch, as she was their only connection to their daughter. That meant now Quinn had even more family, as, eventually, once they’d gotten over the awkwardness, she planned to treat the Makenas as the grandparents they wanted to be.
“Of course,” she said.
And Quinn believed that. Her mother—Elizabeth—was a forgiving person. As she matured, she wouldn’t have wanted to cause her parents pain, but her fear of losing Quinn had probably kept her from reaching out.
Quinn felt so sorry for them. They’d lost so much. But at least today they’d have closure. They stood there so silently. So many years of hope had come to this for them.
“Good morning,” she said.
They both turned, and Mrs. Makena smiled. “Quinn, thank you so much for arranging this. It’s going to be beautiful.”
Her husband nodded in agreement. “I think Beth would love the gesture. Maui was in her heart, even if she did have to leave. I don’t think she ever stopped feeling Hawaiian.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad we could all come together to make this happen,” Quinn said.
Liam crossed the sandy stretch between them. He’d brought the wreath, and he handed it to Mr. Makena.
“It’s time,” he said.
He led them to an outrigger canoe that waited at the edge of the water. Someone had draped it with flowers of every kind. The sweet aroma that carried on the winds over the ocean came to Quinn, bringing her comfort.
“Beth never had a favorite,” Mrs. Makena said. “She loved them all, so we brought a variety.”
Somehow knowing that they had decorated the canoe themselves made Quinn happy, because her mother would’ve liked that.
Quinn took her hand and helped her into the canoe, then climbed in front of her and set the vase between her knees. Mr. Makena took the front seat. Two family members she hadn’t met yet sat in each end and began paddling them out to sea.
On either side of them, the rest of the burial party came out on surfboards, their leis bobbing colorfully around their necks as they paddled out, their timing perfect with the gradual setting of the sun.
Quinn turned to look at the shore again. Kupuna had gotten up from his chair and stood solemnly in the shallow waves, his pants rolled up and the water lapping at his ankles as his gaze appeared to settle on her. She could see his mouth moving and knew he was quietly chanting, his heart and voice melding together as he called out to Beth’s ancestors to bring her home. It felt reverent with him there, and Quinn was so grateful for his presence that she nearly cried. This wasn’t his family. And she’d tried to take his home. Still, he came.
For her.
They were yet another family she’d gained in Maui.
The canoe moved smooth and silent through the water, and no one spoke. At first it felt strangely awkward, but then the sounds of Liam playing his ukulele floated over the sea, finding its way to Quinn and calming her nerves.
He played the same thing he’d played that night on the beach when she’d been so taken with the emotional words he sang. Mentally, she’d titled it “Liam’s Love Song,” and that was how she always thought of it.
When Quinn turned back to look, they were too far to make out his face, but it was mesmerizing the way everyone on the beach swayed back and forth, quietly paying their respects.
Once they were out far enough, the lead paddler lay his paddle over his lap and lifted his face to the sky. He balled up a fist and brought it over his chest, then loudly chanted a prayer in the soothing old Hawaiian language.
On either side of them, the surfers sent up their own whistles and chants, then, almost perfectly synchronized, they raised clasped hands and then lowered them to make a huge splash.
Quinn said her own prayer, then picked up the urn.
She held it to her heart, not sure if she was ready to let go. Her mother—and, yes, Quinn would always give Elizabeth the honor of thinking of her that way—was all she’d had in the world for half of her life. Saying goodbye permanently was going to hurt.
She felt a hand on her back and turned to find Mrs. Makena watching her, tears streaming down her face. “Let me help you,” she said.
Quinn unscrewed the top and handed her the vase, feeling as though she were handing over a part of her soul.
Mrs. Makena took a handful of ashes and threw them out over the ocean. “We love you, Beth.” She sobbed quietly as she handed the vase to her husband. He poured some ashes into his hand and let them trickle through his fingers on the other side of the canoe, slowly, as though he didn’t want them to float away.
“Forgive us,” he said, his voice thick with unshed tears. “Rest soundly, daughter.”
They passed the vase back to Quinn, and she held it once again. There was only a little of her mother left. She considered putting the lid back on and taking the rest of her back to her bedside table.
But her mother wouldn’t want that.
As much as she had tried to deny it, Quinn knew now
that her mother loved Hawaii: the people, the land, and, yes, even the sea. It was where she needed to be set free. It was where she’d asked to be returned to.
No more hiding. No more fear.
As the last ashes poured from the vase, Quinn cried from the depths of her being, tears streaming down her face like a river, nearly blinding her with their ferocity. Along with the ashes went the small bit of anger that she held toward her mother. Forgiveness flooded through her.
When the vase was empty, the container no longer felt symbolic. Quinn set it down and picked up the white flowered wreath, then dropped it over the side and gave it a nudge. She’d tied a note to it:
Thank you for sending me to Maui, Mama. This journey has taught me that I need to be true to me first. And I forgive you.
Your daughter, Quinn
She liked to think her mother had wanted her to find her birth parents and embrace them, even if it meant Quinn’s love for her would be marred.
While the wreath floated away, Quinn watched it, praying that her mother was there in spirit, and then knowing she was.
The Makenas gently tossed out the leis and the other flowers that draped the canoe. Once that was complete, the surfers maneuvered their boards to point up toward the sky in salute, then turned and headed back to shore.
Quinn wasn’t ready to leave yet. As the last beams of the setting sun bounced off the sparkling water, she watched the petals bobbing up and down.
To the Makenas, her mother was a wayward daughter they’d pushed away with their own selfish actions. To Quinn, she represented the only family in her childhood and young adult life. Her mother had showed her unquestionable loyalty and love. And Quinn wouldn’t remember her as anything but the best human she’d ever known.
The reflections of the petals on the surface of the soft waves were beautiful. The song flowing over it was even more so.
When she was ready, the paddlers turned the canoe around, and as their strokes hit the water in a gentle rhythm, she watched the shore approach. She marveled that for the first time ever, the Crowes and the Rochas were together in one place and at peace, their grudge over for good.