Summer Haikus – Chapter 38

Without Masa, days at the ryokan are getting long and difficult. The Olympics are less than two weeks away, and I’m filling in for the extra tasks Masa used to help with. I’m sorting trash and making flower arrangements while eating my lunch and handling the schedule all at once.

“I suck at flower arranging,” I type to Masa and attach a photo of the sad, droopy flowers and erratic twigs, one of which falls out of the rocks as soon as I take the photo.

“Well, it’s not… bad.”

I laugh at his text and push the twig back into the arrangement.

“It’s awful. I’m going to ask Kosho to come in and take care of them. How are things there?”

“Brutal. Dad and Mom got here this morning. Wasn’t expecting Mom. I caught her snooping through my stuff. She found our purikura photos and has been grilling me about you. Sorry. I think it’s going to turn into a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, a thing. The only good news is that she seems happy about us dating.” He includes a heart emoticon, and my stomach is invaded by lovesick butterflies. I kind of knew, if we stuck together, we’d have to tell his parents, but I didn’t think it would happen so quickly. They like me, but I was always just the friend before now.

“I miss you. Can we talk tonight after your shift?” he texts, and I smile and press the phone to my chest for a brief moment.

“I’m off at seven. I’ll call you?”

“Okay. Call Kosho before you destroy those flowers.”

I laugh and get back to work. We have no vacancies from here till the end of August, and my calendar is booked solid with extra employees hired just for this month and next. I’m already bonding with several of the attendants, and it will be hard to let them go when the time comes.

I arrive at my grandparents’ house after eight in the evening. I tried to get away at seven, my usual release time for a Saturday if we’re not holding a banquet, but of course, something came up and I had to stay behind while a plumber fixed the sink in the staff bathroom.

I unlock the door and slip off my shoes in the front hallway, stretching my ankles and yawning at the same time. My stomach growls and I curse at myself. I forgot to eat dinner again. When I’m depressed, my appetite vanishes, and though I’m putting up a valiant effort to pretend like nothing’s wrong, imagining never seeing Masa again is depressing the hell out of me.

“Isa!”

I freeze and turn towards my mom’s room. The light is on and the door is open.

“Isa, are you home?”

I head to her room with the wheelchair folded up outside her doorway. Mom’s in her bed, the lights on, and Kosho is unpacking her bag, folding clothes and slipping them into her dresser.

“Mom, you’re here.” I smile and come to her bedside, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. “When did you get home?”

“The ambulance dropped me off this afternoon. I can get around with crutches now that my arm is doing better.” She gestures to the crutches next to the bed. “So the wheelchair is just a precaution. I start physical therapy at home on Monday. Someone will come three times a week.”

“Hi, Kosho. It’s good to see you. I almost called you today. With Masa in Kamakura, I can’t arrange flowers to save my life.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “Neither could your mother when she first started learning. I’ll come by tomorrow and put together a few arrangements for you.”

“Thanks,” I say, sighing onto the bed next to Mom. “Mom, do you need help with physical therapy? I could take time off during the day at the ryokan to help you.”

“No, you shouldn’t do that.” She turns off her iPad and sets it aside along with her reading glasses, then she opens her planner and pulls out a piece of paper.

“It wouldn’t be a problem. I could move around some scheduling and work later nights…” I stammer to a halt when I see what she’s unfolding: my long “Ryokan Wishlist” I left on the office desk.

“Isa-chan, we want to talk to you about this list Grandpa found on the desk at the ryokan.”

I close my eyes and prepare myself to hear the worst. I’m too brash and too ambitious, the stuff I want to do is too costly or foreign or ridiculous.

“It’s fabulous. Really. I’m so pleased to see you’ve taken a real interest in the future of the family business.”

I part my eyes a sliver and look sideways at her. Is she serious?

She smiles, totally serious.

“Kosho and I, and your grandparents, we’ve been excited about what you’ll do in the next ten years. It could be extremely profitable and unique.”

Kosho clears his throat and my mom stops gushing, pulling her lips into a line.

“I need to apologize for the way I treated you when you asked to be paid. I never did apologize, and it was wrong of me to say those things about you.”

I blink my eyes, stunned into silence. Mom is hardly ever apologetic. Her decisions are final and rarely ever challenged. I glance up at Kosho and he’s nodding his head at my mom. An overwhelming sense of love flows up from my belly for this man. I don’t know how he did it, but he made my mom into a softer, easier person.

“And,” he says, turning to the dresser, “I’ve called on a few contacts at some of the local colleges for you. I thought you’d like some admissions packets to peruse, to consider the different programs.” He hands me a stack of A4 size envelopes, each emblazoned with college names and seals.

“Wow. Thanks. I… I’m really excited about taking over the ryokan.” I bite my lip and look at them both, happy, together. How long does it take to heal a broken heart? How long will I coast through the days before I move on from Masa? Will I ever move on?

Because I have a bad feeling he’ll be on a plane to Michigan next week, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

“Is something the matter?” Mom asks, and I shake my head to clear the sad and broken thoughts from my mind.

“No. I’m fine.” I rise from the bed. “Thanks so much for all of this.” I pat the envelopes. “I’ll start looking them over tonight.”

Kosho takes my place on the bed and nods to me. “Get some rest, Isa-chan. You look beat,” he says, in a fatherly tone.

I back away from them both, bowing, until I’m far enough out of the room to turn and head to the stairs.

“Oyasumi nasai, Isa-chan.” Hearing my mom wish me good night in Japanese makes me smile, like when I was a kid and she’d read me a story, tuck me in, and kiss me good night.

Maybe I’m finally getting back the family I lost six years ago? I’m not sure, but I’m glad I get to stick around and figure it out.

One thing’s missing, though. I wish Masa were here to write a haiku about it.

—-

“I think my grandma may be suicidal, so I’m glad my mom is here to ease things the next couple of days.”

I wince at the sound of Masa’s voice, tired and sad. He sighs and rubs his eyes under his glasses, he in his futon bed at his grandparents’ and me in mine at my grandparents’, connected by FaceTime on our phones. I burrow under the covers a little more, the air conditioning unit blowing cold air straight onto me. I’m exhausted after this day.

“How was your bath?” he asks, his voice low.

“Perfect. Exactly what I needed. My feet were killing me.”

“If I was there, I could have taken a bath with you and rubbed your feet.”

I giggle at the notion. “I’m not sure the ofuro holds two people plus water.”

“I’ve met your grandparents. I’m pretty sure it does.” He raises his eyebrows at me and laughs.

“Masa, don’t be crude.” I laugh anyway. “You’re right. They’re still totally in love, and I’m cramping their style by being here.” I sigh and close my eyes for a brief moment. It’s after ten and I’m fading fast. “What’s your mom doing while she’s there?”

“Cooking, cleaning, snooping. The usual mom stuff.”

“Snooping?” I yawn and stretch, causing Masa to yawn on the other end.

“Don’t do that,” he says, laughing again. “I don’t see you enough for us to fall asleep during a chat.”

“Sorry.”

“Snooping, yes. Remember how I told you she found the purikura of us? Well, of course, we’re making out in half the photos, so she’s been asking questions every possible moment. Where’s the ryokan? How long has your family owned it? Do you like working there? Et cetera.” He waves his hand in the air. “I told them about how you’re staying, and how I want to stay, and my dad blew a gasket.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Oh yeah. Yelling. Like I haven’t heard since my childhood. He stormed out of the house, and my mom went through my bag and found the condoms.”

“No!” I blush, imagining her with the string of them in her hands. She will never look at me the same way again.

“Yeah. Get this. She didn’t say a thing. She put them right back and walked out of the room with a smile on her face.”

“Really? Does she… approve?”

“Maybe?” He yawns again. “She wants to see you again. How about dinner in Tokyo next week?”

I perk up, enough to pop up from the bed. “You’re coming back into the city?”

He smiles. “Excited to see me, darling?”

“Well, yeah.” I lick my lips. “Can we… get away?”

“Mmmm,” he breathes.

I imagine his lips across my neck, my shoulders, my stomach, and my fingers gliding along his back. We could go to a love hotel! I’ve always wanted to try one now that I’m in the hotel business.

“Isa, you make me so happy. I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” He groans as tears flood my eyes. “I can’t get away. Mom convinced Dad to come up to Tokyo for the evening, but then we’re coming back here. Dad’s working with the police on the investigation, and I think he’s going to force Grandpa to retire, sell the house, and move. So things here are crazy, and I’m expected to stay with them. I’ll see if I can come back to the apartment for the Olympics.”

“Right!” I wipe my tears on my pillow and keep him from seeing them. “The Olympics. I have a ticket for you for the marathon. Should I leave it at your apartment?”

He nods. “Put it in the mailbox.”

I shiver under the air conditioning and get back under the covers. “I miss you,” I whisper. The other side of my bed is empty, so I close my eyes and pretend he’s there, not two hours away.

“I miss you, too. Sleep well, sweet Isa.”

“You too. ’Night.”

We wave to each other before ending the call, and I roll over to stare out the window, avoiding the photos of us on the wall, until I drop off to sleep.