Page 68 of Tiki Beach
“I did,” Keone moved closer to my side and slid an arm around my waist. “And Kat has agreed we’re engaged, just not setting a date yet.”
Aunt Fae grabbed my hand and examined the ring. “Ah,” she said, with uncharacteristic restraint. “On the right hand. You’re not quite ready.”
“We’re easing into it. That feels right for now,” I said. “I’m not ready for the trappings, but I’m ready to show our commitment.”
“The most important promises are the ones we make in our own hearts, not the ones society prescribes,” Ilima said, embracing first her son and then me. “I couldn’t be happier to welcome you to our family, Kat—whenever and however that unfolds.”
“What’s happening over there?” Opal called. She’d gone all out with sparkling splendor for the event, wearing a caftan embroidered with tiny crystals and a red feather headdress; she towed Artie along, and Pua bobbed in their wake.
“What did we miss?” my curious co-worker exclaimed.
Aunt Fae, never one for subtlety, pointed at my hand. “Keone proposed. These two are engaged.”
My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I cast Keone a pleading glance as Opal and Pua joined the excitement and exclamations. “So glad,” Artie said simply, his gentle smile conveying genuine happiness. “I wish I could see that ring, but I’ll have to imagine it.”
Opal took my hand in hers, her numerous bracelets jingling with the movement. “It’s a vintage ring with a pearl, Artie,” she said, examining the ring. “It fits her perfectly.”
“You’re not surprised I’m wearing it on my right hand?” I asked.
“Not at all,” Opal said. “You’ve always needed to find your own path.”
Artie nodded in agreement. “As long as you two are on it together, good things are ahead.”
At this blessing from our resident psychics, also my “hanai” parents since I moved to Ohia, tears welled in my eyes. Artie and Opal had never tried to tear my emotional walls down; instead, they had patiently built love and acceptance around them until the walls melted away.
“What’s all this?” Josie’s voice carried across the gathering as she approached with the rest of the Red Hat Society in tow. “Is there news?”
“Kat and Keone are engaged!” Aunt Fae hollered before I could respond.
The Red Hats descended upon us in a flurry of scarlet, purple, and enthusiastic congratulations. Edith immediately began discussing potential botanical arrangements for “whatever ceremony you choose, dear, traditional or otherwise.” Clara insisted on examining the ring, pronouncing it “perfect.” Rita, ever practical, asked about our living arrangements and seemed pleased to confirm we were already settled in Keone’s cottage. “Maile can come visit you there sometime,” she said with a wink.
“This calls for a toast!” Josie declared, waving vigorously to Elle, who quickly arranged for champagne flutes to be distributed.
“I didn’t plan for a toast,” my friend said as she poured sparkling wine into a raft of glasses on a tray. “When you have the actual wedding, I’ll be able to show my full range of talents.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I said. “But it won’t be for a while.”
Pearl, having noticed the gathering, navigated her wheelchair toward us. “I see the news is out,” she observed. “The plumeria tree was a suitable location after all.”
I elbowed Keone. “So that’s why you got special permission to cross that caution tape.”
“I may have made certain suggestions,” Pearl said, the controls of her wheelchair humming as she adjusted her position. “The plumeria tree has witnessed both destruction and renewal. It’s the perfect place for a proposal, and I’m so happy for you both.”
As Elle distributed bubbling champagne flutes, Ilima stepped forward, her natural authority commanding our attention.
“If I may,” she said, raising her glass, “I’d like to propose a toast. To Keone and Kat, who have found in each other not just love, but true partnership. May your journey together be as unique and authentic as you both are.”
“To Keone and Kat!” the group echoed, raising their glasses.
My cheeks burned at being the center of attention, but the genuine warmth from this community—now truly my ‘ohana—made the attention bearable.
Keone’s hand found mine and squeezed it as we acknowledged the toast. “Thanks, everyone. Now I think my fiancée has had enough of the spotlight.” He pointed with his glass toward his truck, parked in the lawn area ahead. Tiki sat on the hood like a big ornament. “And our feline overlord is saying it’s time to go home.”
We headed out in a flurry of goodbyes; I leaned into the arm Keone had wrapped around me. “Thanks for the rescue, Mr. K.”
“The first of many. I’ve got your back, Trouble.”
As the impromptu celebration continued without us and we backed away in Keone’s vehicle with Tiki in her carrier, I noticed Opal and Ilima exchange a significant glance. Opal stepped away to examine one of the architectural renderings more closely. Pearl followed, her wheelchair bumping across the grass. The three women’s expressions, visible in profile, were serious and focused—a stark contrast to the celebratory atmosphere surrounding us.
