She appeared to be in her early thirties. Her face—the over-large eyes and slightly aquiline nose, the dimples that emerged in her cheeks when she spoke, and the messy bob that swept her forehead—was somehow different from what he had imagined. But what had he imagined? Until now, when he thought of her, the face that came to mind was her husband’s.
The groundskeeper led him past the barrier they had erected. Mariko came up to him there.
“Sorry,” Sedge said. “We were supposed to meet at the pond, not here.”
She laughed again and said, “Are you all right?”
“As far as I know.”
They walked toward a refreshment stand. He ordered coffees and brought them to a bench under a cherry tree, whose pink blossoms were on the verge of escaping from their buds. In front of them, the pond’s black surface rippled where a family of spotbill ducks swam by.
“Thank you,” she said, pulling her coffee closer. “You know, I’ve also helped rescue herons before. There are many of them in Yamanaka Onsen. And many bad drivers, too, unfortunately.”
He looked at her incredulously. “You should have come forward to help me. I hardly knew what I was doing.”
“I’m sure I would have only got in the way.”
“Anyway, I’m glad it didn’t end worse.”
She glanced at her watch. “We have a lot to talk about, but I’m afraid I only have thirty minutes.”
“Do you have to get back to the ryokan already?”
“No,” she said. “I have to prepare for an exhibition.”
“You’re an artist, too?”
“It’s Kōichi’s exhibition.”
Sedge started at hearing her husband’s name.
“Will he be there?” he said, confused.
She shook her head. “It will make things easier on me in the long run if I represent him.”
“But he left you. Why are you still helping him?”
“His son and I could use the money. But this will be the last time.”
“Is he not required to support you?”
She smiled embarrassedly. “We haven’t divorced.”
Sedge didn’t know why this surprised him. He and Nozomi hadn’t yet, either. A divorce was still too much to deal with. Once she disappeared, nobody she knew had been able to communicate with her. If she had left Japan and couldn’t be reached, he was unsure if the Japanese courts could legally issue a divorce. Similarly, he felt paralyzed about the money she had taken, leaving him with much less than he’d need to hire a lawyer.
“Why didn’t you want to meet like this at the ryokan?” he said. “I’ll be moving there in another week. Takahashi suggested it.”
“He told me. But I didn’t know how awkward this would be, and I didn’t want either of us to have to endure that at the ryokan, where my colleagues often gossip. Also, my preparation for the exhibition was a perfect excuse to meet you here.”
He appreciated her considerateness. It was unlikely that Nozomi would have given their circumstances so much thought.
“The exhibition’s over there,” she said. She pointed back toward Mayumizaka Gate, where Sedge had seen posters for an exhibition of kutaniyaki, the same local porcelain ware that he and Nozomi had sold in their shop. It was known for its colorful overglazes and named for the village where it had originated over three hundred sixty years ago. One of the garden’s teahouses, Shigure-tei, was holding the exhibition. “It doesn’t start until tomorrow. But the exhibiting artists have to attend a meeting today before arranging their work.”
“What did you want us to talk about?”
She looked toward the lake. “There’s no rule about what we discuss. I much prefer to know who you are than talk about our spouses’ infidelities.”
Sedge doubted that they could discuss what they’d come here for in only half an hour. Before he could suggest meeting again when she had more time, she went on.
“But I hate thinking that what they did—their selfishness—continues to drag us in their wake. I’m even worse off than I was when they ran away together.” She turned to him again. “Did it shock you when she left?”
“Of course. I had no idea they’d been having an affair. Maybe I was too wrapped up in work to notice anything but that she’d grown distant.”
“Yuki confided in me about the money she took. That must have been a shock, too.”
Sedge nodded, mildly taken aback that Takahashi’s wife had shared this. “She arranged for me to leave town on business, then withdrew most of what we had. She took everything from my personal account but left a bit in the one for our shop. I guess she thought she was being kind.” He tried to laugh.
“You could get the police involved, you know. Maybe that would help you find her. And Kōichi.”
“Takahashi made me promise not to involve the police. Anyway, I don’t care that much about the money. I would have given it to her if she’d asked.”
Mariko turned thoughtful for a moment. “How did your divorce lawyers deal with her if no one knew where she was?”
“We’re not divorced, either.”
“I see.” Mariko leaned back, her arms locked straight behind her, and stared into the crisscrossing branches overhead. “We’ve met before, you know. You look different now, though. Your hair, maybe, or it could be that you’re not wearing your work clothes.”
