Epilogue

The weeks following that enchanted Christmas Day whizzed by faster than a surfer shooting the tube on a giant wave at Banzai Pipeline.

Life in our little corner of Maui was much like the island itself - vibrant, full of life, and now, teeming with kittens.

Tiki's little ones grew fast, their antics evolving from clumsy explorations to deliberate, albeit pint-sized, adventures—such as tipping over the driftwood tree and pulling off all the ornaments while Auntie and I were away. The once serene ambiance of our home was gone like a beach at high tide, replaced with a whirlwind of kitten exploits.

Aunt Fae and I dwelt in what I referred to as a "kitten tsunami.' The fallen petals of hibiscus and bird of paradise flowers from knocked over vases were strewn about like confetti after a festival. The curtains looked like they"d had an unfortunate encounter with a mini lawn mower, and the toilet paper rolls had to be put up above the tanks to avoid being unrolled daily like crepe paper at a party.

The chaos was fun, but a bit much—at any given time we'd arrive home to find five kittens climbing on every available surface and one aggrieved-looking Tiki trying to ignore their frequent roughhousing ambushes.

As soon as the babies were eating solid food, we decided to pass on their unique joy and shenanigans to a few special people. With Tiki's blessing (she was as fed up as we were), Auntie and I packed all of the kittens into the carrier and took Tom and Jerry to their new home with Opal and Artie.

After that happy stop (they'd been excitedly waiting and had all the supplies on hand a pair of rowdy twin boys would need), we drove the golf cart with the remaining three kittens in the carrier up to the Nakasone home on Plumeria Street.

The afternoon sun slanted over poufy cumulous clouds, and a gentle tropical breeze carried the scent of plumeria and pikake from neighboring yards as we rolled up the street. The faint strains of a distant ukulele added a backbeat to the noise of three kittens mewing in the carrier.

The girls' father Joe and I had already talked, and we'd decided to keep the kittens' arrival a surprise—though Joe and the girls' aunt Lani had been secretly collecting beds, flea collars, toys, and a covered litter box to prepare for the big day.

We turned up the Nakasone driveway at last, taking in changes since our last visit. "Nice to see the yard mowed," Auntie commented in an aside. "The place is looking better."

"Joe told me his construction company opened a satellite office in Hana. So he's working a lot closer to home now," I said. "Looks like he has a little more time with his girls."

Joe must have heard us coming, because he opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. A reserved man with circles of fatigue under his eyes all the times I'd seen him at the post office, today his hair was neatly cut and damp from a shower; his shirt and pants were fresh.

"Aloha, Kat and Auntie," Joe said with a smile I'd never seen before. "I can hardly wait to tell the girls. You're going to make their year with this."

"And you'll be doing us a favor, giving two of these rascals a good home," I said, putting the brake on the golf cart.

"I told the girls to wait in the back room, that I had a surprise coming." Joe's dark eyes sparkled. "It's been so long since we've had any fun around here."

"Well, that's all about to change," Aunt Fae said, opening the carrier and taking out a kitten. She handed it to him. "Here you go. They can choose two out of three, and we'll keep the one that's left."

Joe held the little creature—the runt of the litter, the tiny calico—against his broad chest. His work worn hands stroked the soft fur gently. When he looked up, tears glistened in his eyes. "Thank you, ladies. For all you've done to make the holiday special for the girls, and for making sure they didn't get in trouble for stealing Lady Sapphire. And for these." He gestured to the kittens.

"You're welcome," I said briskly. "What are neighbors for? Now let's get them inside and surprise the heck out of your daughters."

Holding the purring bundles of energy, the three of us entered the threadbare but neat living room. I remembered the couch well from when Lady Sapphire gave birth to her kittens there.

Aunt Fae tossed a fleece blanket we'd brought onto the carpet, and we set the three kits down on it.

"Get in here, girls!" Joe bellowed, making Aunt Fae and I jump with his volume—but he was grinning as he yelled.

"Coming, Dad!" Sandy and Windy hurried out of their bedroom and then stopped in their tracks, tripping over each other, at the sight of the kittens.

"Did you bring us . . . kittens?" Sandy asked, meeting my eyes, her voice a mixture of hope and disbelief. Windy clung to her sister, her eyes huge and fixed on the blanket and its contents.

The three curious babies were already creeping in different directions on the blanket, whiskers aquiver, eager to explore their new environment.

"We certainly did," I confirmed. "Meet three mischief makers from the mighty line of Tiki. Your dad said you can each choose one to keep."

As if understanding their introduction, the kittens decided it was showtime. They darted around the room, tiny tails waving in the air like palms in a gust of wind. The girls erupted into giggles and fell to their knees to play with the kittens. All three beasties charged them, batting at them with tiny paws and bouncing around on stiff little legs.

"No fear," Joe said approvingly, and then emitted a boom of laughter as the white kitten with the black tail pounced on his sock-clad foot, wrestling it like a lion taking on a hippo.

We eventually left behind the little calico, already called Patches, and the white kitten with the black tail, dubbed Yin-Yang for its opposite colors.

After we bid the Nakasone family goodbye, the backdrop of chuckles and kitten noises following us as we backed down the driveway was the best farewell song.

"I have a feeling things are really going to change around that house, "Aunt Fae said, her voice filled with amusement. "Let"s hope their curtains can withstand the onslaught better than ours have. If not, they"re in for a "ripping" good time!"

"And we still have Misty, here, to keep Tiki on her toes. I'm glad we didn't have to say goodbye to all of them," I said. I smiled at the sweet little gray with white socks resting in Auntie's arms as I turned the golf cart toward home. "No need to replace the curtains until she's much older and has settled down a bit."

"Slowly but surely, that model house is becoming our home," Auntie said with satisfaction.

"I couldn't agree more," I said. "We've got a lot to be grateful for."

Though the month had been stressful, in the end I wouldn't change a thing. Aunt Fae and I would always remember our first holiday in Ohia—and if we didn't, Tiki and Misty would be there to remind us.

Keep an eye out for PAU HANA, #5, in 2024!