Page 18 of Ghosts and Ginger Tea

I fell asleep, and I was so deep into it, I thought it was a dream when Keanu’s fingers somehow found mine, and he held my hand for the rest of the night.

CHAPTER SIX

TWENTY-TWO DAYS LEFT

When I awoke the next morning, the bed was empty, and the room was silent. I sat up, disoriented.

Where am I? I looked around at the large jalousie windows and the dark curtains blowing in the gentle wind. The gold foil on the white walls was stunning in the morning light, and now I realized that there were plants everywhere in this room. Memories of the previous night came to mind as I stood and looked out the window, admiring the view of the pastel twilight skies over the ocean.

I then walked around the room, but found no sign of my husband. What I found was his desk and a journal sitting there. It was open, tempting me to look at the writing on the page. Keanu had probably left it open to allow the ink to dry.

Or for me to read it. I shook my head. I would not read my husband’s journal. That was intrusive, and I would not cross that kind of boundary.

But I noticed something else. A paper with my name on it. His handwriting looked like elegance itself. It read “Oliana’s Days,” followed by tally marks. Nine of them.

Nine days have already passed since we made the bargain. I touched the title, wondering. Did he keep these tallies to count down how many days left to solve the riddle? Or, perhaps, how many days he had to suffer being my husband?

My husband. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the place where he had rested last night. He neatly made his side of the bed, even though he didn’t sleep in the covers.

My insides tightened as I glanced at my hand, the diamond-laced ring on my finger. I could almost recall waking up in the middle of the night and feeling that he had held my hand.

Why? What sort of ruse was he up to? When I told him last night to stop pretending, he replied, “I’m not pretending.” I rubbed my eyes again and took a deep breath.

Focus on the riddle, Oli.

I glanced over the other papers on his desk. There was a ledger with payments to the district of Ka‘u.

That’s strange, I thought.

Were those payments to Ka‘u for me? To break off my betrothal to Pulu?

Keanu scratched a note under the word Ka’u: first bargain.

First bargain? Strange.

Another paper sat behind it, a letter, with words scratched under it: second bargain. The letter, addressed to Pulu, wrote out an exorbitant amount of money to cancel our betrothal.

Wait. If cutting off my betrothal was part of the “second” bargain, then what was the first? Who was the first person he bargained with?

A hoot roused me from my snooping, and I jumped. It was just Malu, of course. He seemed amused that I’d been looking over all of Keanu's open papers except his journal…

“Thanks,” I muttered, grateful he’d distracted me before I saw something I wasn’t supposed to see.

But he left his journal and notes out… So was it really my fault?

I looked around and noticed a dress in the washroom that I guessed they expected me to wear. It was black, with a dark maroon corset. Sheer fabric stretched from the top of the corset to my neck, and the bell sleeves had the same sheer fabric. The skirt was long and black, with maroon bows and accents.

Not knowing what else to do, and also not wanting to waste time as I reviewed the cursed riddle in my head, I bathed and changed into the dress. I fumbled with the corset, so it was a relief when, a few minutes after my bath, a servant knocked on the door to assist me.

She was an older woman, and when I asked questions about where I should eat breakfast or if I could speak with some of Keanu’s older kupuna counselors, she politely said, “Malakai is taking you around today. Just ask him.”

I shut my mouth and let her finish, disliking the way I looked when I caught myself in the mirror. The servant had pulled my hair halfway up, and there was a spray of maroon bougainvillea all along one side of my head. She placed a maroon orchid lei around my neck. All of the flowers matched the dress, but they did not match me.

I felt silly, like someone had tried to dress a taro root to make it look prettier. But slapping makeup on my face, putting flowers in my hair, and making me wear this fancy dress was not going to make up for my lack of good looks.

The servant left, telling me to wait until Malakai came, and sure enough, a few minutes later, there was another knock on the door.

I opened it, and anxiety pooled in my stomach. Why couldn’t Keanu be with me that day? I didn’t know or trust Keanu, but at least I knew him. At least he was a little more familiar than everyone else here.