“What?” I go for innocent. “I was just thinking that we should look upstairs.”
“Sure you did, perv. Let’s go.”
She follows me up, onto the landing. I walk beyond the delicate chair and small table with the glowing lamp, then push open the double doors. A humongous bed on a raised wooden dais sits majestically under a teak ceiling. Just like the floor below, the usual doors have been removed in favor of a sliding glass wall that’s been shoved off to one side, allowing open skies and the Pacific breeze to stream in.
“Holy ocean view…” Keeley whispers beside me.
“Yeah.” Nothing but blue water, white sand, green grass, and swaying palms. It really is perfect.
Through the opening, a deck jets out onto the rooftop covering the lanai directly below. A round table, chairs for two, and a chaise take up the space. The vistas go on forever. I’ve lived on Maui for so long that I often think I’m immune to the sights of beautiful tropical beaches. I joke sometimes that I’m going to vacation in Alaska for a change of pace. Then a place like this comes along and reminds me why I didn’t move back to the mainland when I had the chance.
You just can’t beat Maui. It’s not perfect, but it’s damn well become home.
In fact, if I had my own family, I wouldn’t mind calling this particular place my home.
Keeley seems to float to the edge of the railing and stare out at the unobstructed views. I know in my head that there are neighbors nearby, but they’re far out of sight. Someone planted palms years ago along the property line so the illusion of being utterly alone with nature is completely maintained.
“Just…wow.”
I couldn’t agree more. I see beautiful places every day. I deal in them. I never look at anything that isn’t gorgeous. But this is special. Homey. “I know.”
“Not to depress myself, but what does a place like this cost?”
“About five and a half million. It would be more, except it’s only three bedrooms and three thousand square feet.”
“Only?” She snorts. “I could put four of my last apartment in here and still have room leftover.”
She isn’t exaggerating. I saw it as we moved her out and wondered how the hell she didn’t trip over her own two feet in there.
“I can see this as a bed and breakfast. It would be cozy and quaint. Exactly what I wanted…” Her face looks wistful, but her posture is completely defeated. “There’s no way I can come up with that kind of money.”
“There are less expensive places on the water. If you find something with good bones, you can fix it up and give it the kind of charm you want, especially if you’re handy or an out-of-the-box thinker.”
Keeley bobs her head. “Yeah…but I don’t know if I can ever accomplish this.”
“Don’t give up before you start,” I murmur as I step behind her at the railing.
It’s all I can do to keep my hands off her. I want to touch her—that’s a given. But I’d like to comfort her, too. Tell her I’ll help her and that it’s going to be all right.
I refuse to make a promise I can’t keep.
“Did you say this place has a detached ohana?” she asks.
“It does, but it needs work from what I read.”
“Can we see it?”
I shrug. “Sure. Follow me.”
On our way out of the room, we spot a private dining room on the far side of the space with those fold-back windows and killer views. A kitchenette sits tucked in one functional corner. On the other side of the bedroom is a luxurious bathroom that’s all sleek and teak and glass. Spa-like and lush. Like something out of a magazine.
After snapping photos, I pull Keeley out of the room reluctantly. We wend our way through the house, retrieve our shoes, then head around back. A stunning infinity-edge pool is situated between the main structure and the ohana, seeming to drop off right into the ocean. It’s an optical illusion I don’t think I’d ever get tired of if I lived here. The deck has a tropical feel with waterfalls, palm trees, and native stones. It looks almost like this man-made oasis grew organically out of the ground.
After grabbing more images on my phone, we stroll to the ohana. On one side of the structure, we climb its stairs, then open the door. Cans of paint and boxes of tile await. The ceilings obviously need repair since I see daylight, and the owners have a tarp thrown over a computer workstation against one wall, probably in case of rain. But it’s a wide space with double French doors and more of that amazing view.
“Morning yoga here would be so inspiring. It always centers me, but this would be beyond.”
I don’t downward dog, but I can imagine that any period of time up here in silence trying to commune with your body and thoughts would be a hell of a lot less trying if the view was this fantastic.
“So when you’re looking for a place of your own in the next few years, keep some sort of ohana in mind. With a little spit and polish, this would be a great asset to your inn.”
“Sure,” she says quietly. “That makes sense.”
But there’s no enthusiasm in her voice. Reality has set in.
A place like this is way beyond her reach.
After capturing the last of my snapshots, I lead her toward the car.
“Wait.” She looks back at the place as if she’s drawn to it against her will. “Can I go back inside? Just one more minute.”
I’m at her disposal for the rest of the day. If that’s what she wants to do, it doesn’t bother me. I’m weirdly fond of the house myself. “Sure.”
Keeley gravitates back to the family room, sits on the sofa, and stares out at the ocean. Before I can settle in beside her, she’s up and headed for the kitchen, touching the sleek, pale quartz counters. She visits each of the bedrooms and stares as if she’s trying to imprint herself with their memories.
This place has actually been vacant for the better part of six months. The owner moved back to Australia and paid a management company for its upkeep until it sells. If a house had feelings, this one would be lonely. And Keeley looks more than eager to keep it company. If I could simply give it to her, she would be its most ardent caretaker, I’m sure.
“Let’s go,” she suggests finally. She sounds more disheartened than ever.
After checking my phone, I take her to a few other properties around the island with ocean views. The first is another plantation-style house in white, so I’m thinking she’ll like it. It’s about half the size and acreage. It needs work, and the price reflects that. But it’s got nice bones and a good view of Molokai.
We tour the house in silence. Like the last one, it has three bedrooms and three baths. I admit, the kitchen needs an overhaul, the bedrooms are cramped, and the bathrooms are crappy. But the beach is awesome, very private. She could do worse.
“Well?”
She shrugs. “I’m just not feeling it.”
“I know. But I’m trying to teach you two valuable lessons.”
Keeley raises an annoyed brow at me. “You’re kicking a girl when she’s down, huh?”
“No, sunshine.” It hurts me to see her dejected, so I take her hand. I’m so thrilled when she doesn’t pull away. “Helping you see this through a business eye. First, when you start shopping for property for real, don’t look outside of your budget. It’s way too easy to get attached to something you can’t afford.”
“Yeah, I’m learning that lesson fast. You should have warned me to stay in the car on our last stop.”
“You would have ignored me,” I point out.
Her noisy sigh tells me I’m right. “You could take some of the blame.”