True to Me - Kay Bratt Page 0,16

her head. “Nope. Wasn’t me.”

Maria relaxed, the sternness leaving her face as confusion set in.

“Then I don’t know who did. That means I can’t give it back. Can’t say I don’t need it, though. The kitchen is practically bare of groceries, and if I don’t get a new tire on my car, we’ll all be walking. Pali needs new cleats for football, too, though he says he can make do with last year’s pair.”

Quinn stood at the bottom step, biting her lip. Five hundred dollars could also pay for a moving truck, but Maria obviously hadn’t thought of that.

“Come in,” Maria said, folding the envelope into her pocket before waving Quinn up the steps. “I’m making some brunch for Kupuna. Don’t say anything to him about the money.”

Quinn wasn’t sure what a kupuna was, but she followed.

Maria led her through the living area to the kitchen. The coffee she was brewing smelled intoxicating. The girl was there, sitting at the table with an old man. They were studying a paper between the two of them, though Alani held the pencil.

He looked up, his face impassive, and it felt like he looked right through Quinn. If she could guess, she’d put him at around eighty years old. He wasn’t a large man, though he appeared to be strong and wiry. His skin was dark and seasoned from the sun in a way that could only come from decades of embracing the outdoors. The many lines around his mouth and eyes were deep, but they made an interesting road map of years of wisdom and experience. What he had left of his hair stood up in silvery tufts, and as she looked, he ran his hand through them.

“This is my father. We call him Kupuna,” said Maria.

The old man nodded, but Quinn felt silently chastised.

“Aloha,” he finally said, before returning his attention to his granddaughter.

“Aloha,” Quinn replied, feeling awkward, especially now that she knew what it meant and had a feeling that the old man was being gracious by using it.

She’d read an article on the plane ride over that described the misunderstanding of the word used for greeting. Most mainlanders were under the impression that aloha was the word used for both “hello” and “goodbye.” But the article stated it was much more, that aloha meant “love,” “peace,” and “compassion.” More than a word, a life of aloha meant the heart was overflowing, and when using it, one should be sincerely happy to see the person they said it to.

To be fair, Quinn’s heart wasn’t feeling overflowing in the least. As a matter of fact, it was jumping around like a frog in a fire, every fiber in her being anticipating the upcoming difficult conversation.

“Please, sit down. Would you like some breakfast?” Maria asked, pulling a chair out and beckoning for Quinn to take it. She gestured to a plate on the table that held mango and what could have been papaya, though Quinn wasn’t sure.

“No, thank you. Just coffee would be good.”

The bagel she’d had seemed like ages ago, but Quinn wasn’t there for pleasantries. She also didn’t want to have their talk with a child, and now the grandfather, there. But if she was patient, maybe she could get Maria off to herself once she’d finished cooking.

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