Mamachari Matchmaker – Chapter 8

ERIKO

I told Henry to meet me next to the Starbucks right across the street from the convention center, and when I arrive, he’s not there yet. I check my phone, and I’m a whole fifteen minutes early. Not bad. Usually I’m late! I’m so proud of myself I decide to treat myself to iced coffee. While I’m waiting in line, I turn to peer out the window, and Henry shows up right on time.

He didn’t stand me up! I worried about waiting for him only to find out he decided not to come. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been stood up unfortunately. I don’t know why but a lot of men take the easy way out of relationships. They just don’t call, don’t answer their phones, and don’t text if they don’t like you. They don’t show up to dates, and then I’m left sitting and waiting for no one. I thought maybe with Henry things might be different. Americans are more forward and vocal about the things they want or need. I like that. I hate trying to figure things out the hard way.

I sip on my coffee and stare at him through the window as he surfs the web on his phone. He looks good today, casual and easy. I realize I know nothing about him yet, where he’s from, what he likes or dislikes except that he loved my sushi and he enjoys good manga. He’s a mystery, and right now, he could be anything. I could concoct any kind of story about him I want to in my head. A burst of excitement lightens my chest. This could go anywhere!

“Hi there.” I exit the store and join him on the sidewalk. “I got here early and decided to get some coffee.”

“Hi,” he says, smiling at the panda on my chest. Is he looking at the panda or my boobs? Hard to say. “I was afraid I was late and missed you.”

“Nope.” I shake my head and smile as his eyes travel down my body. “You can always text me, though, if I’m ever late.”

“You really love pandas, don’t you?”

“I do. They’re my favorite animal.”

“I like cats and dogs. I’d love to have both someday.”

A new picture of him forms in my head, out walking a small dog on a leash.

“Big dogs or small dogs?”

“Medium sized,” he says, laughing. “Something furry and warm.”

I replace the image of a Pomeranian with a Shiba Inu. That’s better. In my daydream, we’re walking our dog to the park together. Oh, I like this.

“I love dogs, too. After all, you can’t own a panda.”

“Just the stuffed kind.”

And my stuffed ones just ended up at the donation center. I would laugh about the irony, but I’m glad I did it. I felt a huge weight lift off my chest as I dropped them off yesterday.

“Come on.” I beckon towards the crosswalk currently beeping at people to cross over to the convention center. Along the way, hoards of onlookers take pictures of people in cosplay. Some of my favorite people are here today. I see the group that likes to dress up as Sailor Moon characters and then there are the zombie maids. I wave at people I’ve met a few times and snap photos of the most amazing guy in an elaborate purple suit with a giant sword.

Henry’s mouth is constantly open, his eyes taking in everything around us. He grasps my shoulder and leans into my ear, “How do you know these people?”

“Well,” I stammer to a stop and bite my lip. “Well, usually I, uh, get dressed up, too.”

“You do?” His voice squeaks as he looks me over again. My cheeks burn because this time he is definitely sizing me up, wondering what I look like under the panda bear shirt and short black skirt I wore today. I wanted to be cute but show some leg. Is that so wrong?

I glance to my right and one of my cosplay dopplegangers walks past us.

“That’s my usual outfit,” I say, waving at her as she poses for photos. My face bursts into flames as he stops to admire her as well. “I’ll admit my boots are better. They come up to mid-thigh.” I make a cutting gesture across my leg and his eyes linger on my legs. I’m usually embarrassed by this kind of attention, but I’m in my element today, around my people. I’m freer than my normal buttoned-up, no cleavage, knee-length skirt and sensible shoes outfit I wear to work everyday.

He nods at me, stepping closer as a tiny girl with a giant sword passes us. “You should have worn the outfit.”

I wave in front of my face to stop the blush. “Nonsense. I didn’t want to scare you.”

“I think I would like to be scared by something like that. You’re quite different, Eriko.”

Different? Hmmm, I was hoping for something a little less odd than “different.”

Someone behind me squeals. I turn around and five girls dressed as maids, their wigs all different colors and lengths, pour out of the crowd towards me. I clap in excitement to see some of my favorite convention friends.

“Eriko?” Mari asks, her eyes wide. “Is that you? Why aren’t you dressed up?”

“What happened?”

“Did your costume get ruined?”

“Oh no! Ruined, did you say?”

The chorus of girly voices from the five of them peak to deafening levels before I calm them down with shushing. “My costume is fine. I’m here with a friend today, and I didn’t want him to feel left out.”

“Friend? Who is this?” Mari purrs, literally. She reaches behind to grab her tail and swing it about her fingers. She twists her heels and smiles seductively at Henry. His cheeks color at the temples.

“This is Henry. He’s American and teaches at a school not far from me. Henry, this is Mari, Ikumi, June, Sachiyo, and Chie.” They pose for him, and he seems alarmed, completely tongue-tied.

He leans towards me, his hand shaking as it comes to my shoulder. “I won’t remember any of their names,” he says in English, and that’s when I feel it. He’s petrified. Is he afraid of them? I look him in the eyes for a moment, and though he’s smiling politely, I can tell something is wrong.

“Eriko, he’s handsome,” Izumi says. She grabs his hand, and I panic but try not to show it.

Sachiyo gasps. “Doesn’t he look like Michiru-san from Space Station Omega?”

All the girls cover their mouths in surprise. Henry giggles. That’s the best way I can describe it. He giggles and it sounds like hysteria to me.

“He does!” Mari clasps her hands briefly before grabbing Henry’s other hand and tugging him towards them. He trips but recovers quickly. “The wavy hair! And the green eyes!”

Shit. He does look like Michiru-san. I didn’t realize until now! This guy I’ve seen only twice before today looks like the hero in one of my favorite manga. How did that escape my notice?

The girls tug on his hands and pull him into the group. “Hey!” I yell, as they circle around and block me off from him. Oh my god, I’m being cockblocked! How does this even happen to someone like me?

I struggle to follow along because Henry keeps throwing glances over his shoulder at me. Panicked and wide-eyed, he is completely out of his element. At least, that’s what I believe because I never even got the chance to ask him if he had been to a convention before.

I start to lag behind as more and more people get between Henry and me.

“Where are you from?” Ikumi asks, her hand on his arm.

“California.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters?” Sachiyo asks.

I try to rush forward to hear the answer, but I trip over the tail of some mutant mermaid that walks in front of me. Two other people jostle past and my coffee slips from my hand and crashes to the ground. I stoop to pick it up, and when I straighten, Henry is gone.

“Henry!” I call above the crowd. I hear my name yelled from somewhere to my right, but I can’t see him through the wall of people heading into the convention center.

I just lost my date.

—-

I walk around the convention center in a daze. Usually I come to these events, pose for photos outside, shop for manga and anime inside, hang out with friends, then go out for dinner and drinks afterward. I had hoped I would come with Henry and we’d have some time to wander and browse together while getting to know each other. I didn’t expect to be here alone and costume-less. I feel like an outsider again, in my own home. Conventions like this are the only time I fit in. Now the day is ruined. Peeking through groups of people, I keep my eye out for Henry but still have yet to glimpse him since he was carried off by the maid brigade.

I glance at my phone and there’s a new text from him. “I don’t know where I am. Some corner of the convention center. Can you tell me where to go so I can find you?”

My blood heats in my face, anger whipping to the surface. He would have been fine if he had just said no and stayed with me. But maybe he was happy to be surrounded by a bunch of beautiful women? I sigh and step to the side of my favorite manga publisher’s booth while I glance around. Where can I send him?

“Meet me at the exit in 20 minutes,” I type back. It would be impossible to find him in this place.

I stare at my phone, unbelieving that this happened to me, today of all days, my first date in years. And, I think he’s a pretty perfect guy, too. Re-reading his text, he didn’t make one mistake in his Japanese. It’s a little formal, and I often wonder at his verb choices, but he’s quite good at it.

I make it to the exit ten minutes later, after saying hello to friends and buying a few more manga. Off to the side of the exit but inside the convention center, I sigh into a lump on the floor against the wall letting my feet jut out in front of me. I don’t even know why I’m still here. This was a disaster of a day. In fact, the whole thing makes me super aggravated, and I seethe watching the groups of people float past me.

“Eriko! There you are,” Henry says, sitting down beside me. “Thank god. I was beginning to think I would never find you in this mess.”

I turn the most sarcastic eyebrows I can muster on him and he frowns.

“No, really. I spent the last hour and a half looking for you as soon as I lost the maids.”

“You know, you could have just said no and walked away, right? You kind of left me alone on our date.”

“Our date? This was a date?” he asks, a smile broadening his face as mine pinks. “Of course it was supposed to be a date. I’m so sorry.” He sighs. “So here’s the thing about Japan and foreigners. We all know that you’re super polite and being rude is frowned upon. Remember those Thai kids that came to Japan, made a mess of themselves on the subway, and were vilified on the Internet? I really like it here, and I’m afraid of screwing something up and being branded the ugly, awful foreigner.”

I relax hearing his explanation, my face and anger cooling a few degrees.

“I tend to let people direct me around, and I shouldn’t have today. I’m sure it was even worse than saying no.”

He sets a paper bag on his lap, and I nod at it. “What did you get?”

“I did manage to buy some things I was interested in.” He opens the bag and I smile at his choices, all of my favorites and a few I’ve been meaning to read.

“This one,” I say, pointing to a manga about clones. “I’ve had my eye on that for months.”

“Really? Why don’t we go get food and some beers and read it?”

I blush as I look down at my hands. “Sure. Do you like yakitori?”

“Do I like yakitori? Is the sun yellow? The sky blue? The grass green?” He stands and offers me a hand with a dashing smile and his deep green eyes. I place my fingers in his and laugh as he pulls me up. He has no idea but his sense of humor is like Michiru-san, too. My manga hero come to life.

“All of these thing, yes.”

“Then yes, I love yakitori. I haven’t met a Japanese food I dislike yet, even natto.”

“Wow” I gasp. “I don’t like natto and I’m Japanese.”

“See? There’s a lot you don’t know about me… yet.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “I know you’re from California.”

“Obviously.”

“How many brothers or sisters do you have?”

“One older brother, one younger sister. You?”

“Only child.”

“Interesting,” he says, smiling, before his smile fades and skin blanches. “Oh god, it’s the maids. Let’s go.” He grasps my hand and yanks me along. “Hurry! Run for you life, Eriko!”

And though we dash between unsuspecting and annoyed anime fans, jostling them and being the kind of rude Henry was trying to avoid, I laugh hysterically as we beat a fast path to the door and onto our first real date.