Chapter 22

The emotional reunion with Tiki and the unexpected introduction of her kittens needed to be shared with Aunt Fae. Also, Keone would be arriving soon for our Christmas Day tradition of present opening, gingerbread eating, and reading new books.

I wouldn't ruin the surprise by texting them about finding Tiki; showing was more powerful than telling.

Grinning the whole way, I hurried out of the fort and fetched a cardboard box from the recycle pile behind the post office building. As I was folding the box into a rectangle shape, Artie and Opal emerged from the depths of the Ohia General Store to greet the day on the porch as was their habit.

"Mele Kalikimaka, Kat!" Opal hollered across the parking lot. Today, the velour scarf draping her shoulders was an eye-popping red and green stripe worn over a muumuu dotted with a candy cane design. Artie, guitar under his arm, wore a fuzzy, short-sleeved Santa suit with his rubber slippers.

"Merry Christmas to you as well. You two sure are festive!" I picked my way around the puddles in the parking lot, wincing as a stone poked my bare foot. "I have news."

"And where are your shoes?" Opal put her hands on her hips sternly. Artie strummed a dramatic chord.

"I was too excited to get them; they're over at the beach. Tiki reappeared—and you'll never guess what else."

Artie intoned, "dun-dun-dun," accompanied by strums on the guitar.

"Tell us, already!" Opal exclaimed.

I brandished the large box. "She was hiding under the shack this whole time with a litter of kittens. Five of them!"

Opal clapped her hands to her cheeks. "What?"

"I know, right?" I shook my head. "I don't know why it never crossed my mind Tiki wasn't fixed. Maybe because . . ." I cupped a hand around my mouth in an exaggerated whisper, "She's not exactly the maternal type. But it turns out she's a great mom and has raised babies that all look healthy and happy."

"We'll take one. Maybe two," Opal said instantly. "One for each of us."

"Ho-ho-ho!" Artie bellowed in his best Santa imitation. He nodded vigorously, grinning, and making the fuzzy bobble on his red velvet hat bounce. "A kitten each is the perfect Christmas present!"

"Great," I said. "Now I've only got three more to find homes for!" I was already thinking of two little girls who'd be overjoyed to have a kitten apiece.

"We can take them all to get spayed and neutered with their mother," Opal said. "Make sure there aren't any more surprise litters in the neighborhood."

"Definitely. Maybe with her kittens in the carrier, I could get Tiki inside to take her to the vet. I never could before; she was too wild to get into the carrier, let alone the car." I waggled the cardboard box. "I am going to get the kittens out from under the shack and take them home. Want to see them when I do?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Artie said. "I don't need sight to enjoy that."

"I'm so excited!" Opal clasped her hands together, her pale blue eyes shining, her spiky white hair aquiver. "What did I tell you? The runes were right. This is a new beginning, in all kinds of ways."

"One hundred percent!" I agreed.

* * *

With some coaxing, Tiki allowed me to put her babies into the box, now lined with the beach towel I'd fetched when I went back and put on my shoes.

Each of the kittens was unique, except for a pair of orange tabbies so identical I couldn't tell them apart. A mist gray with white socks found a spot beside a snowy white kitten with a tail so black it looked like it had been dipped in ink. And last but not least, a tiny calico, the runt of the litter, splotched in brown, black, white, and orange, took her place right in the middle.

I settled the kits in the sturdy box, petting their tiny heads, enjoying their soft warmth and the sweet little mews they emitted as I handled them. Tiki, kinked tail high and eyes bright, trotted beside me as I exited the shack with the box and locked it up.

Opal and Artie came down from the store's porch. Exclaiming over the kittens, they immediately called dibs on the pair of orange tabbies. "They're twins. They should stay together," Opal said. She carefully lifted each of them up and examined them. "And they're both boys."

"Let's call them Tom and Jerry," Artie said. And so it was.

As I carried the box home, relieved to have my shoes on again to protect my feet, the sun, higher now, warmed up the dew-kissed leaves. Palms rustled gently overhead, cardinals chirped, mynahs squawked, and the distant murmur of waves faded as we walked home.

"I never did get that swim," I told Tiki as she trotted beside me, keeping a watchful eye on the box I carried. "But I don't mind a bit. Finding you and your babies is the best Christmas gift I could imagine."

We turned into the cul-de-sac that held the former model house that Auntie and I now occupied. Aunt Fae and Keone, conversing in the driveway, turned in my direction.

Their faces mirrored astonishment, then joy, as they spotted Tiki beside me. "Oh, thank goodness!" Aunt Fae exclaimed, covering her heart with both hands. "Tiki is finally home!"

"And what've you got in that box?" Keone asked, quirking a brow. "You're carrying it like it's something special."

"The most special ever," I said. "Let's go inside before I show you."

I wanted to get the kittens safely indoors in case Tiki acted up in the presence of others; but my former hellcat remained calm, trotting close beside me as I reached the front door and opened it by depressing the handle with my elbow.

"Glad I've got long pants on this morning," Keone joked as he followed me. Tiki had taken a swipe at his legs on more than one occasion.

"Especially when you see what I've got in the box," I said. "Stay at a distance. Let's see how our girl adjusts to being inside."

Keone's eyebrows went up and so did Auntie's, but neither argued as I led the way with Tiki close beside me. I slowly lowered the container to the floor in front of the decorated driftwood tree.

Tiki hopped into the box as soon as it hit the floor. The kittens mewed and scrambled, milling around their mother. Keone and Auntie, eyes wide, took in the sight.

Auntie's knees seemed to give out and she collapsed on the ottoman. "Oh, my heart!"

"Tiki"s been busy!" Keone's chuckle filled the air. He approached and reached forward, very slowly, as if to touch a kitten.

Tiki flattened her remaining ear and narrowed her eyes.

He withdrew his hand. "Okay, mama. No means no."

Auntie cupped her cheeks with her hands, gazing into the mass of milling kittens with Tiki seated upright among them, beaming with pride. "This is so . . . omigosh. I have no words."

"I know," I said. We smiled at each other. "Just the best Christmas ever."

"And the day has just begun," Keone said, slinging an arm around each of us. "So glad to be a part of it with two of my favorite ladies—and Tiki and her family, too."

"And a very merry Christmas was had by all," Auntie said, and dashed the moisture off her cheeks with a smile.