If there is one certainty in this world, it must be the fact that a bride’s first meeting with her new parents-in-law causes deep concern.
It was certainly so for me. The fact that I had been married once before made no difference at all to my worries now. My first mother-in-law had truly been the stuff of nightmares for a young bride. She was a Southern lady. A devout Catholic, steeped in the traditions of her Virginia home. So shocked was she to discover that her beloved only son had brought home a Japanese geisha for his wife that she had a heart attack moments after she first met me. Or rather, she pretended to have a heart attack. No matter, the message was exactly the same. I understood perfectly. I was not welcome in her life. Nor, from her point of view, would I ever be welcome in her son’s life.
But that is my past. That meeting now only has a place in my memories. All that is of any concern is my life now. The shuddering breath I take at this moment. The moment before the door to the low, unremarkable white house is about to swing open and my new husband’s parents will be waiting to greet me.
Wish me luck. For although I am no longer a geisha, my past life and all that happened in it cannot be changed. And my new mother and father are missionaries for the Free Church of Scotland. They are living here in distant China to convert those remaining wayward heathens who stubbornly refuse to accept the joys of Christ the Redeemer, choosing instead to cling to the gods of their ancestors.
As I do.
As the door widens, I pray to Baizenten, Goddess of Geisha, to bring me good fortune, for I think that I may need it.