“Why didn’t he just tell Maria? They could’ve done something about it together. He didn’t have to leave them,” Quinn said. She felt so sad for them.

“Pride. Again, in the Hawaiians it’s a very noble attribute, but can also be a serious thing. Jaime was able to keep paying the bills for a while by getting a loan on the house, but that just put him deeper in debt. When it ran out, he left. He said he couldn’t face the kids and Maria and tell them the house was going to be taken by the bank. He really couldn’t stand the thought of telling Kupuna either. He thought he could figure something out.”

“So he was coming back?”

“He did plan to come back when he got a new job and was making regular money. But all he’s found to do is some roofing and a few landscaping jobs. Nothing permanent.”

“That’s heartbreaking. So now he’ll leave again?” Quinn couldn’t imagine what Maria would do if Jaime disappeared again.

“I don’t think so. I talked to him about having enough faith in Maria to know she’ll stand by him no matter what. I told him he should appreciate that he has a wife and kids to come home to. Some men don’t have that anymore, or never did.”

Liam got quiet then. Quinn didn’t turn to look at him; his voice was heavy with emotion, and she was afraid she’d see tears.

“I hope he’ll stay. She’s going to need help with Pali,” she said.

After a minute or two went by, she broke the silence. “Well, let me tell you about my saga. I found out who my father is today.”

“That’s great, Quinn!” He sat up straight and rubbed her arm. “I told you it’d all work out.”

She didn’t know about working out, but at least she knew her identity now. Though, given the choice now, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever come to Maui.

“Do you know a man named Noah Monroe?” she asked.

“Of course. He owns Monroe Maui Excursions down on Front Street. I think his daughters and their husbands run it most of the time now. His wife is a Rocha, but she doesn’t have much to do with them. She and Noah spend a lot of time helping the homeless who hang out on the beach. They provide sack lunches and sleeping bags. Help some of them get started again. They’re good people.”

“They’re my people,” Quinn said, saying the words slowly as though they’d sting coming out. It still didn’t sound true.

“I don’t understand.”

“Did you know that they lost a little girl a long time ago?”