by Kay Bratt
“You’re welcome. I’m glad to have you here. Liam has done some work for my mom without charging her an arm and a leg. She thinks he’s some sort of superhero. I suppose it’s hard for seniors to find someone they can trust these days, so I’m glad he called in a favor.”
She laughed. “He’s got a lot of fans around here.”
“I hope to gain a few myself,” Dr. Starr said, and Maggie wondered if he was talking about her. She liked him okay, but after his stunt with the kitten, it was going to take a while if not longer for her to become a fan of any sort. A year or two ago, she would’ve been more receptive, but that was before she’d learned how fast someone could intrude on your life and turn it upside down.
“Great. Thanks.” She stood.
He held out a hand.
Maggie wondered if he would still hire her if she didn’t take his hand. Touching strangers wasn’t something she was comfortable with anymore. Was she jaded from the one blind date that had turned into a nightmare? Absolutely. She now knew how any innocent interaction with the opposite sex could be misconstrued. However, since her—and the little tornado’s—future was on the line, she made herself relax enough to accept the gesture. It was strictly professional, after all. “Thank you again for hiring me. I’ll be here at noon on Monday.”
Dr. Starr grinned and let go. “Oh, since you’re coming at noon, do you think you can stop off and bring me a poke plate for lunch?”
Chapter Two
Quinn slid the key across the counter to check in her latest guests. Emily, her front desk clerk, was working, but these were special guests. She wanted their check-in to be perfect, so she’d sent Emily on break.
Charlie was another story. Quinn kept him by her side—a three-foot assistant with big blue eyes and a never-ending string of questions that didn’t even stop while he concentrated on weaving the string through the flower lei he was making.
“Whoa, real keys,” the customer said. “I thought all hotels went to those magnetic key cards?”
“Not us,” Quinn said. “We do things differently here at the Hana Hamoa Inn. As stated on the website, our rooms also do not have televisions, alarm clocks, or other devices. This is truly meant to be a place to unplug and unwind.”
“But you do have internet access, right?”
“Yes, the rooms have Wi-Fi so you can catch up if need be. Or you can reserve our business office in one-hour increments, though we recommend you spend as much time outside as possible, enjoying the true Hawaiian experience,” she said. “We’ve also given you the room with the best views, and it’s completely wheelchair accessible. I hope you and your wife enjoy Maui, Mr. Westbrooks.”
He tucked the key into his pocket and smiled sadly. “Oh, I know we will. We came here on our honeymoon sixteen years ago,” the man said. “Since then we’ve come every year on our anniversary. For the first ten years, we stayed in Lahaina where we could be closer to everything, including the nightlife. You know when you’re young and in love, you want to experience all the sights, sounds, and activities a place has to offer. The last few years we’ve tried some of the other parts of Maui that are popular but not as touristy as Lahaina. We chose up-country for this trip so that we could just have peace. The only show we’ll be taking part in is stargazing.”
“Oh. You’re a fan of astronomy?”
“I am,” he said. “And Hawaii is an astronomer’s dream because of almost nonexistent pollution as well as access to Haleakalā. I can’t wait to take my wife up there again for the sunrise preshow of stars.”
“That sounds lovely,” Quinn said. And it did. She was going to have to tell Liam she’d added another item to her Maui bucket list. “Please let me know when you need transportation, and we can also pack you an easy breakfast to take with you.”
He smiled broadly. “That would be great. I’m so glad I found this place.”
“We are too. And as for the peace you crave, that’s one of the biggest perks of staying in Hana, where you’re surrounded by waterfalls and other sounds of nature. There’s nothing more peaceful than a rain forest. Then if you’re interested in going to the beach, you can get to Hana Bay Beach from a short path off our property. Also, the Kaihalulu Red Sand Beach isn’t too far away, and if you prefer to check out the more distant Hamoa Beach, we can arrange a shuttle.”
He nodded. “I might take a few walks on the beach if my wife sleeps in.”
“It won’t beat what you see at the Haleakalā summit, but you can catch a lovely Maui sunrise there around seven,” she said. She stood back and clasped her hands. “Mr. Westbrooks, I’d like to thank you for choosing to stay with us for this visit. We’re thrilled to have you both. I hope you’ll understand if there are a few imperfections. Since we are so new, there might be some hidden issues we need to find and address, so please point out anything you see that needs improvement.”
“I doubt we’ll find a thing, but thank you. I truly appreciate it.”
She nodded to him, then to his wife, who sat quietly in her wheelchair just to the side. She wore a flowered scarf wrapped around her head, the bright colors a stark contrast to the paleness of her face. The circles around her eyes were dark, but her expression was patient. “Your luggage will be delivered to your room shortly, and I’ll send one of the girls to unpack for you. Again, please let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you. Oh, and Hasegawa General Store is only a short ride away if you need any staples for the room.”
“Thanks. For starters, you can call me David. And my wife is Julianne,” he said. “We’re not formal people either. So it seems we’ll all get along just fine.”
Charlie walked around the counter and up to the wheelchair. He ran his finger along the armrest, his eyes wandering to the shiny spokes on the wheels.
“Why does your chair have wheels?” he asked Mrs. Westbrooks.
Quinn cringed. Charlie was a unique little boy. He’d never met a stranger and was inquisitive, but in a sweet way. She’d thought she had him sufficiently occupied with lei making, but she should’ve remembered his short attention span.
“It’s so that I can go where I want to go without walking,” Julianne said.
“Why can’t you walk?” Charlie asked.
Quinn wanted to melt into the floor and started to interrupt, but the woman held her hand up, stopping her.
“That’s a good question. I can walk, but right now it’s hard for me because I haven’t been feeling well. When you don’t feel good, you don’t like to walk around either, right? Sometimes you’re just tired?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Then my mom carries me.”
She laughed. “Wow. Someone must have some strong muscles because you are a really big boy.”
Quinn raised her eyebrows at that. She was right. Charlie was too big to be carried, but you had to know his mom to understand. Maggie grew up the only girl in a family of boys, and despite being thin as a reed, she was strong as an ox. Stubborn as one too.
“Can I ride in your chair?” Charlie asked.
Quinn felt her face flush. “I’m so sorry. He’s not good with boundaries.”
“No, don’t be sorry,” Julianne said. She turned her attention to Charlie. “You sure can. I mean, if your mom says it’s okay. I’ll take you for a ride on my lap, and David can push us.”
“Oh, I’m not his mom,” Quinn said. “I’m just looking out for him today. And we need to let you get settled in, Mrs. West—I mean Julianne. Charlie, maybe you’ll see her later after she has time to rest up from their trip.”
Julianne tousled Charlie’s hair and he grinned, then quickly lost interest as he remembered his project and returned to Quinn’s side of the counter to tend to it.
“Thanks so much,” David said. “We’ll probably see you this afternoon.”
He went to his wife’s chair and turned it around, then headed down the hall.
Quinn watched them go. She couldn’t help but feel sad for them, especially the husband. It was obvious that he lo
ved his wife dearly and was putting on a brave face as time with her was slipping away.
A bittersweet memory flooded back. Quinn remembered the last time she’d bathed her mom—not her biological mother, but the woman who’d raised her—both of them crying silent tears that mingled with the warm water Quinn so lovingly poured over her mother’s battle-worn body. Somehow they knew it would be one of the last times they’d be so physically close, and they were right. Her mom had died a few days later.
Because of that experience, people battling cancer held a special place in Quinn’s heart, and this couple, even before she’d met them, made her want their visit to be memorable. She’d put a pitcher of chilled fruit-infused water and a basket of specialty cheese and crackers, as well as some of her friend Maria’s famous shortbread cookies, in their room. The final touch was a comfortable recliner they’d put a rush order on just a few days ago, delivered that morning.
The recliner—along with a small table that held a book of Hawaiian inspirational quotes—was placed directly in front of the large window in the room so that Mrs. Westbrooks could lie back and have the light to read by or simply enjoy the scenery from a comfortable place.
Quinn had found a handmade shawl from a Front Street boutique. The label called it a Hawaiian Sea Glass shawl, obviously named for the soft shades of blue yarn it was made from. One touch and Quinn had to have it for Julianne. It would be perfect for cool nights on the beach or even from their private lanai.
She’d folded it on the corner of the bed and left a note next to it welcoming them to Hana. She also left coupons for complimentary breakfast sandwiches, as well as a full lunch at the hotel café each day of their stay so they wouldn’t have to venture far if they didn’t want to.
Quinn didn’t do as much for every guest. She couldn’t or they’d be bankrupt in a year, but this couple was special. When the husband had called to make last-minute reservations, he’d said it would most likely be their final trip together before his wife succumbed to her illness. She’d recently stopped chemo and other drugs, deciding on quality of life over quantity—a decision that Quinn was positive didn’t come easy.
He’d told her everything in what sounded to Quinn like a practiced monotonic voice. But she was sure she’d heard a dip in his tone once or twice before he was businesslike again.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Mr. Westbrooks,” Quinn had answered, struggling for the proper response. “I’ll do all that I can to make this a wonderful and comfortable stay for her.”
When he’d asked for a fully handicap-accessible room, he told her his wife used to be a dancer, and that her new mobility problems had brought her to another level of resigned acceptance that the disease had won. He’d asked for ideas to cheer her up while they were in Maui.
Quinn was still thinking on that one.
“I’m back,” said Emily.
“Good, it’s all yours. Your next guests were supposed to arrive on the island an hour ago, so they’ll be pulling up any minute. I’m taking Curious George outside for some fresh air.”
“Got it, Boss,” Emily said, smiling at Charlie.
“Who is Curious George?” Charlie asked. “Can I play with him?”
Quinn and Emily laughed.
“Let’s go, buddy,” Quinn said, giving Charlie a little nudge.
She followed him outside, keeping a close eye on him as he promptly forgot all about George and began his exploration for geckos. Quinn wouldn’t let him out of her sight. There were a lot of places on the property amid the breathtaking tropical flora where a little boy could get lost.
She wasn’t about to let that happen on her watch, especially after everything Maggie had been through to ensure his safety.
The hotel sat on eight acres, landscaped with gorgeous native Hawaiian plants. Then, to her delight, there was a five-acre nature reserve easement between their land and the white sand beach.
If Charlie convinced her to take him that far today—and he was a heck of a negotiator—he knew he’d be able to see a turtle or two. Maybe even a pair of nene geese, the Hawaiian state bird.
Quinn thought of the million little things on her to-do list. She really didn’t have time to babysit Charlie, but Maggie needed to ace that interview for her own peace of mind, so Quinn was happy to set things aside for an hour or so to help her out.
“Charlie, no tree climbing today,” she said, catching him just as he started shimmying up the low branch of a banyan tree. For four years old, he was impressively agile. “You can’t get dirty. Your mom might be taking you somewhere later.”
“Aww, Auntie Quinn,” he whined, but quickly turned his attention elsewhere.
Quinn loved that he called her that, even though she wasn’t truly his auntie. She and his mom had been best friends since childhood, so to her they were family.
She stopped to admire the tall banyan tree. The landscaping foreman had done a wonderful job of working around and protecting the trees and plants native to Maui. Her brother, Jonah, was to thank for that. It was his friend Paul they’d brought in on a trial basis and now couldn’t do without.
Charlie knew not to pick any flowers, but he stopped and smelled a hibiscus.
“Tell me how they got here again, Auntie Quinn,” he said.
Since she’d gotten to know Charlie, Quinn had also figured out that she had a knack for telling stories, many of them based on the Hawaiian myths or legends she’d read recently. Since meeting her biological family and learning that she was born on the island, she had felt an undeniable pull to learn as much as she could about her culture. The Hawaiian legends were her favorites out of all her research.
It made her happy that Charlie loved to hear them too.
“A long time ago,” she began, “the Hawaiian islands stood alone in the Pacific, many miles from the nearest continent. The land was lifeless. It lay cracked and dry from many years of volcanic activity. That stayed true until Mother Nature took pity and sent the birds to carry seeds from far, far away. She stirred up the winds and the tides to also carry seeds from other lands until finally the trees, plants, and flowers began to bloom, making the islands into the tropical paradise they are today.”
Charlie smiled. By now he could probably quote the story himself, but for some reason she thought the imagery he conjured up in his head worked best when she told it. He still had a smile of wonder as he quickly moved out of reach and on to the next thing. It was fun seeing the island through his eyes. He thought everything was wonderful.
And it was.
Quinn knew she was lucky. She wouldn’t say there hadn’t been some ups and downs to get where she was, and she was still trying to figure some things out, but it was all coming together much better than she could’ve dreamed. Her life had certainly changed in the last few months. Before she’d come to Maui, she was an orphan, no family to speak of after her mother’s death. She was also engaged to a man who on paper was a great catch—but for someone else, not her. That page belonged in a different book.
However, a deathbed confession from her mother had set her on a search for her father, which in turn led her to the discovery that she wasn’t who she thought she was. In Maui, there was an entire family for her to find. It hadn’t all been easy, but day by day she was learning what it meant to have a big family who loved her unconditionally and wanted her to succeed.
She’d broken off her engagement, and leaving her longtime (and overbearing) fiancé thousands of miles away was the smartest decision she’d ever made.
A flicker of green caught her eye.
“Here’s one, Charlie,” she called out.
He ran back to her. Without hesitation he plucked the gecko off the tree and held it between his two fingers, looking straight into its face.
“I’m going to name him Gary,” he said, taking care not to make his tail fall off. He’d learned that the hard way the last time he’d handled a gecko, his guilty tears moving Quinn.
Quinn laughed. “Gary the Gecko? That
sounds good. But you’re going to let him go, aren’t you? If you take him home, Woodrow might eat him.”
She watched the expressions change rapidly on Charlie’s face as he went through the gamut of emotions. She understood the dilemma. What little boy didn’t want to take a gecko home and keep it in his room?
“Woodrow doesn’t eat geckos, but I’ll let this one go back to his family,” he said finally, setting the gecko back where he’d found him.
“Good decision. Let’s go a little farther—then I need to get back.”
He skipped ahead, the gecko already forgotten.
Quinn watched him while she mentally checked tasks off her list. There was never a shortage of those. When her grandmother Helen offered her a partnership in turning the ramshackle inn into something profitable, Quinn had no idea how many tiny details went into a challenge like that. The family had snagged the foreclosed property for a song, and now you’d never know it was anything but the quaint inn that stood before her.
She was so proud of it.
They kept it small to maintain its categorization as an inn. Only seven guest rooms, but they were spacious. In the common areas, the floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the beautiful views on all sides of the building. A few overlooked their lap pool, which was surrounded by a natural stone deck and flanked by not one but two hot tubs. All the floors were striking New Zealand hardwoods. The small café carried on the theme as the wood repeated itself in solid butcher counters for the breakfast bar and hand-carved tables. The lobby was open to allow the trade winds to enter from the outside, but it was protected against rain.
Quinn’s favorite renovation was the gigantic inlaid sea turtle that stretched across the lobby floor, the different colors of marble coming together in an array of dazzling shades of green to give the honu the majestic presentation it deserved. In Hawaiian culture, the sea turtle was considered good luck and a guardian spirit. It also symbolized endurance and longevity, which was what Quinn hoped the inn would have.
For her personally, the honu represented the beginning of her story, as she’d finally worked through her dreams and shards of memory to realize how she’d survived being lost at sea as a young girl. It wasn’t luck. It was her guardian honu who had led her to safety, and it was a story she kept close to her heart, declining to share it with anyone.