Chapter 19

The Ohia Red Hat Societyheld their weekly meetup that night and after some rest, I was ready to take them on. Aunt Fae and I rode together to Edith's cozy cottage in Hana, with Auntie at the wheel so I could get a bit more rest. The cottage and I had some history, not all of it good, but I put that behind me and focused on the task at hand, admiring Edith's glorious potted orchid collection as we crossed her porch.

Rita Farnsworth was a woman with a look about her that Aunt Fae would probably describe as "no foo-foo." Her über-natural style (she was a big fan of beige flax, linen, and burlap) aside, the retired administrator and current cat rescue advocate was pleasant as usual.

I drew her away from the rowdy card game underway in Edith's living room, and explained my dilemma about identifying the girl in the window.

At first, Rita focused on grilling me about every aspect of the situation, which I was loath to go over—but go over it I did. I started with the scant details of the UPS driver's description, then my interaction with the hermit, and finally his dramatic last act.

"Oh my," she said. "Of course I heard about the explosion, but I had no idea about any of this. What can I do to help?"

"I was hoping you could help me get information from the school district. A list of truant girls of elementary school age."

She twisted her mouth into an anxious frown. "But why?"

"The Child Welfare Services people say they have no record of a missing girl who fits the UPS guy's description. Maybe she isn't in their system. Maybe she's missing from her school, but so far, no formal missing child report has been filed."

"I see."

"Could you make inquiries and see if there are reports of kids who aren't in school who should be?"

"You'd like a truancy report."

"Yes."

Rita clasped her hands and lowered her head in what appeared to be a prayerful pose. Then, she glanced up and said, "I'll give this some thought and get back to you on Monday."

I thanked her and we joined the other Red Hats in a spirited game of gin rummy. As empty wineglasses were being taken to the kitchen and goodbye hugs were getting ready to ramp up, Edith and Josie traded a glance. Tiny, round Edith was perky in her favorite peaked red witch-style hat, and Josie's long, rippling gray hair was decorated with a scarlet hibiscus; both of them wore secret smiles.

Edith picked up a spoon and clinked her wineglass three times. "Ladies," she said. "We have an announcement to make."

Silence fell. Everyone froze in place like in a child's game of freeze tag.

Edith and Josie reached out and held hands. If anyone there didn't know they were a couple, they did now; and the room was so quiet I heard the ticking of Edith's old-fashioned wall clock.

"We're not getting any younger, and we want to be there for each other going forward— health directives and hospital admissions being what they are and all that. You all know the health scares we've been through." Nods around the room. "So we've decided we should make our relationship legal."

"Do you mean what I think you do?" asked Clara, grinning as she adjusted the deep purple fabric of her flowing dress.

"We're getting married. We're working with Elle Beane at Hotel Hana about having the ceremony next weekend," Josie said.

Spontaneous applause burst out. Pearl made a startled noise and said, "Next weekend? You two need a shotgun wedding?"

Everyone chuckled.

Edith and Josie took turns explaining the reasoning behind their decision. They wanted to be able to assist each other with medical, financial, and family decisions as their end of life came into view. Edith, an attorney, explained that being legally recognized as a married couple would make everything easier.

Clara said, "Are you going to live together?"

"No," said Josie. "We both love our homes and aren't ready to give them up. But one day, we might."

Everyone agreed it sounded as if they'd given this a lot of thought. Pearl, who must have been in on it, produced a bottle of champagne and rolled forward on her standing wheelchair to line up and fill a stack of plastic glasses she'd had hiding in her chair's saddlebag. Once they were filled, everyone toasted the happy couple with a dollop of bubbly. "Congratulations!"

As the group dispersed, everyone agreed that the wedding would serve as next week's get-together.

When Aunt Fae and I drove back home, she said, "That was fun. It's nice to get out, isn't it?"

We pulled into the garage and Aunt Fae cut the engine. As I opened my door, we swiveled our heads to glance at each other in alarm. From inside the house, Tiki's yowl could've awakened the legendary Hawaiian Night Marchers.