Page 66 of Tiki Beach
Curiosity piqued, I followed as he led me along a pathway that curved through what would eventually become a traditional Japanese meditation garden. The path ended at the massive old plumeria tree—one that had been carefully preserved in the garden’s design due to its age and beauty—and where, on paper, it would shelter a reproduction of the garden’s original crane statue.
Caution tape encircled the site, but Keone gave my hand a tug and led me to slip under it. “We have special dispensation from Pearl.”
The tree’s fullest bloom had passed, and its nearly bare branches arched overhead, architectural against the sky, budding at the tips into leaf. A few white and yellow blossoms still released their sweet perfume from above and below as fallen flowers dotted the ground in contrast of gold and cream against the dark earth.
The setting was almost ethereally beautiful as morning light filtered through the branches to create dappled patterns around us, highlighting the sculpture on a stone dais directly before us.
“Oh, wow,” I said, gazing at the crane in its spot near the tree’s trunk. A six-foot-tall rendering in bronze, the bird exuded peace; its neck arched in a graceful curve as it tucked its bill beneath a wing. The metal seemed to glow; it hadn’t yet acquired the patina of age.
“This spot is for a stone bench to sit and contemplate,” Keone said, pointing to a cement pad that faced the sculpture and the tree.
“The statue is gorgeous, and this spot will be perfect for reflection once the garden is complete,” I said.
“I thought so too.” Keone’s hand moved to his pocket. “Which is why I asked Pearl’s permission to bring you here today.”
My heart speeded up as Keone withdrew something from his pocket—not a box, but an origami crane folded from iridescent paper that shifted between blue and green as it caught the light.
“Did you make this?” My voice was unsteady as I accepted the delicate paper bird.
“I did.” His warm brown eyes gleamed. “They’ve become a symbol of our journey together. Open it.”
I unfolded the crane with trembling fingers. Each released fold revealed words.
Keone had written in his distinctive handwriting: “Some loves reveal themselves slowly and deepen with each passing day. Some questions can only be asked when the moment is right.”
As I released the final fold, something small and metallic rolled into my palm—a ring of vintage design, featuring a central pearl surrounded by tiny diamonds set in intricate gold filigree.
“This was my grandmother’s,” Keone said as I stared at the ring. “She gave it to me before she passed, saying I would know when and with whom to share it.”
I gulped. My knees wobbled. “I wish that bench was finished so I could sit down,” I muttered.
Keone took my free hand, his touch steady despite the emotion evident in his eyes. “Kat, you’ve become essential to me. My partner in investigation and in everyday moments, my favorite person to share everything—and a cat—with.”
That he mentioned Tiki in that moment made my eyes well up; I was doing okay until then. I sniffled loudly, blinking. “Dang it.”
Sun caught in the pearl’s surface, revealing subtle variations of cream and pink within its depths as Keone continued, dropping to one knee before me.
“I’m asking if you’ll share life’s journey with me, as my wife. Will you marry me?”
The question hung in the fragrant air between us.
The distant sound of celebration from the main party area provided a gentle backdrop to the moment.
I stared down at the ring in my palm, its beauty undeniable, the weight of its significance even more so. Familiar tightness strangled my breath; the same constriction I’d felt at every major emotional crossroads since I was nine years old and lost both my parents in a single moment on an icy road.
“Keone—” I coughed, choking on joy and fear. Longing and hesitation. Desire for connection, and an instinctive self-protection that had become second nature.
Keone stood back up. “It’s okay. Just think about it,” he said.
His graciousness released my paralysis.
“I love you,” I blurted, the words coming easily because they were undeniably true. “And I want a future with you. But marriage feels like tempting fate somehow.”
“Because of your parents?”
I nodded, grateful for his perception. “I was so young when they died, but the lesson I learned was crystal clear: loving deeply means risking devastating loss. Every time I’ve gotten close to someone since then, that fear resurfaces.”
“I know,” Keone said. “It’s okay. I thought it might be too soon to ask you.” I finally had the courage to gaze into his warm brown eyes. I could see that he understood. “Loss has shaped both of us in different ways. Losing my dad, and seeing my parents’ loving marriage, made me determined to wait, and be sure of, the right person to spend my life with.”
