As Quinn left them that day, they asked her if they could keep in touch, as she was their only connection to their daughter. That meant now Quinn had even more family, as, eventually, once they’d gotten over the awkwardness, she planned to treat the Makenas as the grandparents they wanted to be.

“Of course,” she said.

And Quinn believed that. Her mother—Elizabeth—was a forgiving person. As she matured, she wouldn’t have wanted to cause her parents pain, but her fear of losing Quinn had probably kept her from reaching out.

Quinn felt so sorry for them. They’d lost so much. But at least today they’d have closure. They stood there so silently. So many years of hope had come to this for them.

“Good morning,” she said.

They both turned, and Mrs. Makena smiled. “Quinn, thank you so much for arranging this. It’s going to be beautiful.”

Her husband nodded in agreement. “I think Beth would love the gesture. Maui was in her heart, even if she did have to leave. I don’t think she ever stopped feeling Hawaiian.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad we could all come together to make this happen,” Quinn said.

Liam crossed the sandy stretch between them. He’d brought the wreath, and he handed it to Mr. Makena.

“It’s time,” he said.

He led them to an outrigger canoe that waited at the edge of the water. Someone had draped it with flowers of every kind. The sweet aroma that carried on the winds over the ocean came to Quinn, bringing her comfort.

“Beth never had a favorite,” Mrs. Makena said. “She loved them all, so we brought a variety.”

Somehow knowing that they had decorated the canoe themselves made Quinn happy, because her mother would’ve liked that.

Quinn took her hand and helped her into the canoe, then climbed in front of her and set the vase between her knees. Mr. Makena took the front seat. Two family members she hadn’t met yet sat in each end and began paddling them out to sea.

On either side of them, the rest of the burial party came out on surfboards, their leis bobbing colorfully around their necks as they paddled out, their timing perfect with the gradual setting of the sun.

Quinn turned to look at the shore again. Kupuna had gotten up from his chair and stood solemnly in the shallow waves, his pants rolled up and the water lapping at his ankles as his gaze appeared to settle on her. She could see his mouth moving and knew he was quietly chanting, his heart and voice melding together as he called out to Beth’s ancestors to bring her home. It felt reverent with him there, and Quinn was so grateful for his presence that she nearly cried. This wasn’t his family. And she’d tried to take his home. Still, he came.

For her.