True to Me - Kay Bratt Page 0,9

at Banyan Bungalow was anticlimactic, but Quinn tried to reserve judgment as she climbed out.

She shut the car door and leaned against it, taking in the property. It was picturesque—sort of. Or maybe once was. Could possibly be again.

Someone had once put some time and thought into the landscaping. It was artfully done, though a bit overgrown. She was relieved that the monkeypod tree was there, casting a big shadow over the walkway, looking a little worse for wear.

She’d expected the house to appear empty and lonely, but it actually didn’t look too bad. The owners had left behind a couple of rattan chairs that could be cleaned up and possibly repainted. A ragged doormat that read “Aloha” remained too.

For a moment she stood admiring the expansive porch with the hardy forest-green planks and the white trim that framed the floor-to-ceiling windows and porch. The steps leading to the door were painted red, now faded, but Quinn could imagine them fresh and welcoming again, especially with some brightly colored pots of flowers flanking them.

Between surfing Pinterest and all the home improvement shows she watched, she had a million ideas to improve the curb appeal. Once more, she wished Ethan was with her for the reveal, but he had high standards, and if it didn’t appear perfect on first look, he’d have a hard time envisioning what it could be.

She walked up to the porch and climbed the steps. Her pulse quickened as she stopped to fish in her purse for the key that the Realtor had mailed her.

Before she could get her hands on it, the door opened.

“What do you want?” a teenage boy said, running a hand through his wavy brown hair. He leaned against the frame, holding his cell phone, a bored expression pasted on his face. Quinn could see a small girl sitting on a couch behind him, her arms wrapped around a matching dark-haired doll, her eyes glued to a cartoon on the television.

“I—I . . . ,” Quinn stuttered, completely tongue-tied. She was expecting an empty house. The Realtor said it would be move-in ready. Just wait until she talked to him. She felt her temper flare, and a marquee of colorful words ran across her imagination.

She finally composed herself and straightened to her full height. “I want to know what you are doing here. This is my house.”

He let out a harsh laugh. “Your house, huh? Well, that’s righteous.”

Before she could reply, a woman came hurrying out of a side room and to the door. “Pali, go on. I’ll talk to her.”

“Fine. You talk to the fancy haole. I’ve got plans, anyway.” He rolled his eyes at her as he walked away, joining the young girl on the couch. He kicked up his feet on the coffee table—Quinn’s coffee table, no less—and turned his attention back to his phone.

Quinn wasn’t sure whether to be offended by being called a haole or not. She’d read it just meant “mainlander,” but the way the boy had said it sounded much worse. But he was a kid. Obviously one with an attitude problem.

She turned her attention to the woman, who appeared beyond frazzled. But at least she was making an attempt to be polite. Quinn was beginning to feel dizzy with shock. Was she even at the right house? Could she have gotten the number confused? It sure looked like the photos, but maybe there was another house just like it on the same street.

It would’ve been so much simpler if that was the case. She dreaded what Ethan would have to say about her predicament. But he wasn’t here, and for once it was up to her to fix things.

First, though, they needed to remain calm.

“Look,” Quinn began, “I think there might be a misunderstanding. I’m Quinn Maguire, and I bought this house.”

The woman held her hand up for Quinn to stop talking. They locked eyes as she wrung the dishcloth between her hands, a silent plea for mercy, Quinn would think later. It took her a few seconds to speak, and when she did, everything became more complicated.

She looked toward the living room first, then leaned in, speaking in a hushed voice. “I’m Maria. Please, let me apologize for my son. We’re in a state of shock. We just got the news yesterday that we’ve been evicted. I guess you could say, since we didn’t even know our home was being sold, I would appreciate you giving us some time to get out.”

Quinn stared at