“I never took you for an eavesdropper,” Sedge said.
“Are you saying Mariko was here long enough for the two of you to be eavesdropped on? Really, you should both be more careful. Especially her. We don’t pay her to visit our guests privately.”
“What did you come here for?”
“Not for what Mariko came for.”
He didn’t say to Yuki what he wanted to—he was at a disadvantage, and Mariko even more than he.
“I was going to apologize for what I said about Nozomi. I thought your memory of her was still painful. Apparently, I was mistaken.”
“She was only checking on me. She heard our argument in the lobby this afternoon.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
Despite what she said, she stood in the doorway as if she expected him to tell her everything that had passed between them. The silence grew.
“Next time there’s something to tell you,” she finally said, “I’ll have Takahashi come do it.”
Behind her, the cart with his dinner came rattling down the hall. Yuki stepped aside as the man delivering it approached Sedge’s door.
“You’re certainly being well fed,” she said, and the surprise on her face looked genuine. “Bon appétit. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
12
Sedge was winding down from his English class, sitting by the back window of his room, which he’d pulled open so only a screen separated him from outside. Crickets and frogs were competing over who could make more noise, and through the wire mesh a pleasant breeze blew.
Outside, insects gripped the screen, and as he gently flicked them off, his room phone rang. The only people who called on it were Yuki and Takahashi, but normally they didn’t bother him this late. His students had told him that Takahashi was due back from Kanazawa tonight. Sedge, however, hadn’t seen him. A minute later his cell phone rang. Takahashi’s name flashed on it, and Sedge picked it up.
“Sorry I didn’t answer the room phone. I have a headache and didn’t want to move.”
“That’s all right. I may have some pills if you think they’d help.”
“I’m self-treating with a couple drinks.”
“Sake?”
“I bought a bottle of Tengumai from the gift shop.”
“How about coming to the lounge? I can pour us a drink from my own stock.”
Though exhausted, Sedge realized that now, when most of the staff had gone home and Yuki was probably in bed, was an ideal time for them to meet. He agreed, and Takahashi said he could be there in fifteen minutes.
“It’ll be like the old talks we used to have,” Takahashi said. “When you stayed here with Nozomi but it was only the two of us, late at night drinking and soaking in the rotenburo outside. Times have changed, haven’t they?”
In the lounge, Sedge sat at a different table than normal, within clear view of the check-in desk. Normally at night two people manned it, but with no guests present they had stepped into a lighted office to the rear. Takahashi greeted Sedge as he walked past him into the lounge kitchen.
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Sedge said after Takahashi returned with a bottle of sake and two glasses. “I was shocked and saddened to hear about your father.”
“His condition was worse than the doctors realized. They assured us he didn’t suffer. I guess that’s a silver lining if any exists.”
Takahashi told him about his father’s second stroke, and about how his mother had been at his side when he passed.
“I asked Yuki how I might send your mother my condolences,” Sedge said. “She told me that one of you would let me know later. It was too bad I couldn’t take part in what the family organized.”
Takahashi let out a long sigh, and Sedge winced. He knew Takahashi had heard criticism in his words. But Sedge had spoken gently, and less confrontationally than he’d spoken with Yuki.
“I can share your condolences with her. There’s nothing you really need to do beyond that. I’m not sure how much she remembers what specific people have done.”
“I’m not asking because I think she expects it. It’s something I want to do on behalf of your father, whom I loved and respected.”
Takahashi lowered his head and nodded solemnly. When he raised his head again, his eyes glistened. “It’s traditional to give some money, but in your case it’s not necessary.”
“Is my case that I’m close family, or that I have no money?”
Takahashi smiled tiredly. “Both, I suppose.”
Sedge continued to speak in a quiet, sincere tone. “Because if I’m considered close family, it would have been nice to attend his Buddhist ceremony or even his cremation.”
“You understand, of course, that it wasn’t possible. Yuki said she explained it to you. I don’t know why you want to talk about it with me, too. I’m exhausted, you realize.”
“I want to talk about it with you because you’re now my main connection to the family I married into.”
Takahashi gazed into his sake glass for a long time before mumbling, “To my mother, Nozomi’s being away for a year with another man means the two of you are divorced. She didn’t want you there without Nozomi because it might have started people talking.”
“But that’s ridiculous.”
Takahashi didn’t say anything and Sedge saw that arguing about it further was pointless.
