that it melted in Quinn’s mouth.
She went for seconds and wished for thirds.
There were also several different kinds of sushi and the mung bean noodles cooked in chicken broth that her mother had always loved. The table was overflowing with dishes people brought in, as everyone came with something, whether it was a simple fruit or a jug of homemade wine.
The biggest surprise was Maria’s cookies. Quinn had never tasted anything like them. She was glad she’d gotten to have one, as they were the first thing to disappear once the people started arriving. Many of them got the cookies even before their main dishes, just to be sure they had one at the end of their meals. The cookies were small, buttery squares of shortbread—but unlike any shortbread Quinn had ever had. She’d asked what was in them, but Maria wouldn’t tell.
“A secret recipe,” Kupuna had muttered from where he sat at the table.
Maria laughed. “He’s right. It’s secret. My mother passed it to me. She worked in the cafeteria for one of the public schools here. Every day she baked the cookies and stacked them in five-gallon tins. They sold for a nickel, and the kids took them home wrapped in wax paper. People here on the island have been trying to re-create this recipe for thirty years.”
“I bet I can figure it out,” Pali said as he tried to peek over her shoulder.
She shooed him away. “One day your wife will get the recipe,” she said, laughing at his antics. “It will be your inheritance. If you behave.”
Quinn thought of her mother again, and the mysterious money.
While Maria was busy in the kitchen, Alani introduced Quinn around. The faces were so many that they blurred together. One small, elderly woman made quite an impact on Quinn, though. She introduced herself as Gracie Wang of the original Wang family, whose ancestor was washed onto the island of Honolulu from a shipwreck in the early 1800s. Her great-grandfather had jumped island and made his fortune in the Maui sugar plantations, then married a local woman. Auntie Wang, as she said she preferred to be called, was clearly proud of her heritage and made for an interesting character.
The entire affair was a flurry of activity, and everyone pitched in to put the kitchen and patio back together before most of them headed to the beach. Quinn followed and was amazed that in the blink of an eye, a circle of chairs and logs was set up, and someone had started a bonfire. As the adults found somewhere to sit, Alani and Junie and the other children ran around chasing the surf back and forth as their laughter rang out.
Quinn took a chair and used her feet to dig into the sand, letting it roll over her toes in a cocoon of warmth. Maria took the chair beside her.
Liam had disappeared briefly, but now he emerged from the path, leading Kupuna with one hand and holding a ukulele in the other.
There was something about the way he led the old man. Liam was gentle, guiding Kupuna around a few piles of brush, then to one of the best chairs, obviously left just for him. Kupuna settled in, staring off like he’d been prone to do.
Liam took a seat on a log and turned to the guy beside him to talk.
Then it hit her. And she felt immensely ignorant. In the glow of the firelight, she could feel her face burn with embarrassment at her oversight.
Kupuna was blind.
She should’ve figured it out earlier. So many times he’d stared off into space and had never made direct eye contact with her. She just hadn’t put two and two together. Now she felt ashamed for being so nonchalant about meeting him. About talking to him. About how she’d treated him. That was what her brain was throwing at her faster than she could process. Just when she thought the situation about displacing a family couldn’t get worse, it did.
Now she was throwing a blind man out of his house? She felt sick.
Maria settled back into her chair, then turned to Quinn. “Well, you ready to hear Liam make some music?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Quinn whispered.
“Tell you what? That he plays? Just about everybody and their cousin plays around here. Liam just happens to be better at it than most.”
“No, not that. Why didn’t you tell me your father is blind?” Quinn asked.
Maria turned to look at her, though in the dimness it was