Chapter 20

Christmas Eve, the following day, fell on a Monday. Our remote post office location was only open half a day. I put on a Santa hat and Pua wore a green elf cap trimmed in golden bells. We exchanged gifts before opening up: she'd bought me a set of refill cartridges for the vapor scent diffuser in my office, and I'd bought her a delicate pair of crystal snowflake earrings that she promptly put on. "They look perfect with your elf outfit," I told her.

She laughed. "That's not a sentence you hear every day."

"Maybe only on Christmas Eve!"

We'd come a long way from the early, difficult days when I first arrived in Ohia.

I wrote FOUND on all the posters around our area advertising Lady Sapphire's loss, and reported her discovery to our customers as they came in.

Chad arrived with the day's mail and a hangdog look and apology to me. He told us he was not yet fired, though he'd been written up and was on probation for his role in the Great Cat Snatch Caper. Our boss, Mr. Hanoi, had taken him to task about use of the postal service vehicle for nonwork activities. "I promise I'll never do it again," he told us earnestly. "I knew it was wrong to use the truck, but I thought I was helping the cats. Really."

"And maybe you were," I said. "Happy holidays, cat burglar."

He snorted a laugh, and I gave him a plate of Aunt Fae's cookies which he gratefully accepted before getting on the road.

The short hours of the day flew by, filled with all the last-minute packages and cards to be sorted and picked up.

Meanwhile, Lei called me and told me that the Humane Society went out to Rita Farnsworth's with the chip reader. The Red Hats went too and gathered around Rita to sponsor and present a proposal that her house become an extension site of The Cat Shelter. Rita decided to partner with Dr. Jill Hanson, officially, and everyone seemed to feel good about that as Dr. Hanson agreed to cover and supervise Rita's feline care efforts through her nonprofit.

The Humane Society staffers checked all the cats Rita had on site. They removed four with microchips and took them home to their owners—a perfect Christmas Eve gift.

They then allowed Rita to keep all the animals she'd collected "as long as an appropriate level of care is maintained."

Soon it was time for Pua and me to lock up the post office. We exchanged a holiday hug and put a "Closed for the Holiday" sign on the door, bidding each other "Merry Christmas!"

My heart lifted with apprehension/excitement: it was time for Aunt Fae and I to get dressed and go to the Kaihales' legendary holiday luau in Hana. Ilima Kaihale's parties were reputed to be as Hawaiian as the hula dance itself—but would we truly be welcome?

Even with Mr. K texting me ongoing update photos of loading the imu and other prep for the gathering, I couldn't help worrying that as ‘Maine-iacs' fresh off the plane, we wouldn't fit in.

Aunt Fae and I dressed in our best holiday wear: she in a crisp cotton aloha shirt bedecked with Santas wearing leis paired with jeans, and I in a fitted sheath dress in holiday red that Pua had insisted I buy online. "You've got a great figure, Kat, but you never show it off," she'd said, showing me the dress on her phone. "Christmas is a time to really shine. Don't you want to make Keone's eyes pop when he sees you?"

So I'd upgraded the black dress with a gun pocket that I'd worn to a million state department events in Washington, DC and retired it, in favor of this new scarlet number with a slit that ran up one thigh.

Aunt Fae eyed my outfit from the top of my head to the strappy sandals I wore as I drove Sharkey toward Hana. "You're brighter than a winter cardinal in that dress," she said. "Prettier, too. I love it."

"Thanks, Auntie."

There were so many cars along the shoulders of the road that we had to park a distance away. We approached on foot, carrying our offerings. Ilima's house nestled between swaying palms and vibrant bougainvillea down a driveway lined with gardenia bushes. The tantalizing aroma of the traditional imu, an underground oven, enveloped us. The scent was smoky and earthy, carrying the essence of Hawaii itself. Cooked that way, the kalua pig inside promised to be a gustatory experience to remember.

Inside the open, concrete floor garage where the family gathered, tables sagged under the weight of the many delicacies. There was poi, the iconic taro root dish, its unique, slightly sour taste a perfect complement to the rich kalua pig that was soon to be unearthed. Plates of lomi salmon, a refreshing mix of tomatoes, onions, and salty fish, offered a burst of colors and flavors. And for those with a sweet tooth, there was haupia, my favorite, a creamy coconut dessert that was a perfect palate cleanser at the end of a meal.

Despite the tantalizing aromas, lively strumming of ukuleles, happy chatter and many hugs, my heart felt heavy with sadness I hid behind a smile. The luau seemed to lack sparkle, a night sky without its stars, as I yearned for the familiar purr and even the grumpy demands of Tiki, my absent feline friend. She'd loved to hover on the edges of parties, darting in to steal a treat now and again while keeping a watchful eye on my safety.

Keone approached, his eyes widening. He whistled, giving me an appreciative once-over. "You're gorgeous tonight, Kat."

I mustered a smile and let him pull me in for a hug.

"You're not so bad yourself." I slid my hands up and around his neck, petting the rich silk he wore. "You look amazing in this dark purple."

"Mom said so too, that's why she gave me this dress shirt as my holiday gift." His pearly teeth gleamed; he was altogether splendid.

"I approve."

"And you're my lady in red." He put his mouth close to my ear and spoke gently. "Kat, you're not fooling me. You look as glum as a tourist who has to get on a flight home to the mainland. What's up?"

I sighed as I rested my chin on Keone's shoulder. "I'm so glad we found Lady, and that her kittens are happy and healthy. But I'm still missing Tiki. I really thought I'd found her at Rita's . . . but now I'm giving up hope. I've lost her."

Keone nodded, his warm brown eyes reflecting understanding along with the colored sparkle lights strung around the party area. "Tiki's one in a million. Free-spirited as the trade winds. She'll come home when she's ready. Until then . . ." He pointed to a raised wooden stage set up on the lawn with an open tent over it in case of rain showers. A mischievous glint lit his eye. "How about a dance?"

Before I could respond, he gestured to the deejay, a high school kid with a set of tech tools on a folding table. The notes of the 12 Days of Christmas tune boomed out of speakers around us. I glanced around wildly as the crowd erupted in cheers. My friend Artie came and took a seat beside the teenage deejay, his guitar in hand.

"What's this song? The tune is familiar."

"A new twist on a holiday favorite." Keone, with the enthusiasm of a child opening a present, tugged me onto the crowded "dance floor." The crowd sang along as Artie belted out the song into a mic, accompanied by dramatic strumming chords.

"Numbah One day of Christmas, my tutu give to me

One mynah bird in one papaya tree.

Numbah Two day of Christmas, my tutu give to me

Two coconut, an' one mynah bird in one papaya tree.

Numbah Tree day of Christmas, my tutu give to me

Tree dry squid, two coconut

An' one mynah bird in one papaya tree.

Numbah Foah day of Christmas, my tutu give to me

Foah flowah lei, tree dry squid, two coconut

An' one mynah bird in one papaya tree.

Numbah Five day of Christmas, my tutu give to me

Five beeg fat peeg, foah flowah lei, tree dry squid, two coconut

An' one mynah bird in one papaya tree.

Numbah Six day of Christmas, my tutu give to me

Six hula lesson, five beeg fat peeg, foah flowah lei, tree dry squid, two coconut

An' one mynah bird in one papaya tree.

Numbah Seven day of Christmas, my tutu give to me

Seven shrimp a-swimmin', six hula lesson, five beeg fat peeg, foah flowah lei, tree dry squid, two coconut

An' one mynah bird in one papaya tree.

Numbah Eight day of Christmas, my tutu give to me

Eight ukulele, seven shrimp a-swimmin', six hula lesson, five beeg fat peeg, foah flowah lei, tree dry squid, two coconut

An' one mynah bird in one papaya tree.

Numbah Nine day of Christmas, my tutu give to me

Nine pound of poi, eight ukulele, seven shrimp a-swimmin', six hula lesson, five beeg fat peeg, foah flowah lei, tree dry squid, two coconut

An' one mynah bird in one papaya tree.

Numbah Ten day of Christmas, my tutu give to me

Ten can of beer, nine pound of poi, eight ukulele, seven shrimp a-swimmin', six hula lesson, five beeg fat peeg, foah flowah lei, tree dry squid, two coconut

An' one mynah bird in one papaya tree.

Numbah Eleven day of Christmas, my tutu give to me

Eleven missionary, ten can of beer, nine pound of poi, eight ukulele, seven shrimp a-swimmin', six hula lesson, five beeg fat peeg, foah flowah lei, tree dry squid, two coconut

An' one mynah bird in one papaya tree.

Numbah Twelve day of Christmas, my tutu give to me

Twelve TELEVISION, eleven missionary, ten can of beer, nine pound of poi, eight ukulele, seven shrimp a-swimmin', six hula lesson, five beeg fat peeg, foah flowah lei, tree dry squid, two coconut

An' one mynah bird in one papaya tree!"

As we improvised moves to the music, Keone's actions were hilarious. His rendition of ‘four flower leis' involved an exaggerated pantomime of being strangled by the leis, and for ‘six hula lessons,' he pranced around, gyrating his hips.

He was so funny that my sadness floated away on laughter.

This guy. How'd I get to be so lucky?

As the song ended and we came to a halt, breathless and grinning, Aunt Fae joined us. Her bright eyes matched a garland of golden stars glinting on her silver hair. "Keone, that hula would have made even Tiki crack up," she said. "And look what's right overhead." She pointed above us, where a sprig of plastic mistletoe tied with red ribbon swayed over the dance area. "I believe you owe him a kiss."

"You're right as usual, Aunt Fae." I swooped Keone into my arms, catching him by surprise. I dipped him low over my thigh, kissing him thoroughly, to the cheers of his rowdy family.

When I pulled him up, red and laughing, his mother Ilima put her fingers in her mouth and emitted a piercing wolf whistle. "When's the wedding?" she yelled, and everyone laughed.

Keone and I ducked our heads and ran for refills at the punch bowl.

As the luau swirled on into the night, the evening filled with joy, music, and the irresistible taste and smell of Hawaiian food. I could feel Tiki's spirit was among us. In our shared camaraderie, she was there, a calico ghost on the fringes.

If I never saw my beloved hellcat again in this life, I was finally able to be grateful for every day we'd had together.