| |
BEN HUFFED OUT A LITTLE oh of surprise, eyes wide. “It’s not too late?”
“I never sent my refusal letter. Because...everything.” Ryan waved a hand, indicating the memorial on the other side of the door.
Ben closed the gap between them. Fingers laced behind Ryan’s neck, thumbs along his jaw, he rested his forehead on Ryan’s. His whisper tickled Ryan’s lips. “If it will make you happy, I will do whatever I can to make this happen for you. Anything you need.”
“Thank you.”
“Maybe it was never real to me at all, but now I hate the idea of you being so far away.”
The door banged open.
Veronica grabbed the wine off the counter. “You could have left this with me before you snuck off to make out.” And she was gone.
Ryan kissed Ben and pulled back reluctantly. “I should get out to talk to people.”
“We can talk later. I’m proud of you.”
It was more than Ryan expected from a rushed declaration of life-changing news.
By eight p.m. the crowd dwindled to only a few people, including Ryan’s parents, slowly making rounds of the room. All afternoon and evening, Ryan had checked for Mary and Arthur in the crowd. Despite Mary’s assurance that they’d come, Ryan was massively relieved when they arrived. Since their uncomfortable dinner out three weeks earlier, Ryan only saw his parents a few times. Conversation had been superficial, and more often than not, Ben carried it, pressing for details about everyone’s work days and books they’d read. Gramma was the one to push people through uncomfortable conversations.
Ben pressed a kiss on Ryan’s forehead. His hand trailed down Ryan’s arm as Ryan stood up. “Good luck. Vee and I will clean up over here.” The rest of his friends had left.
“What’s he going to do?” Veronica asked. Ben’s answer was lost as Ryan crossed the room, checking his pockets to make sure he had what he needed.
“I’m glad you guys came.” Ryan believed his parents well-intentioned and supportive in their own way, but he’d never been good at talking to them about the big things. It always took some catalyst, and once the conversation was done, it rarely came up again. They were, Ryan supposed, like him in not wanting to lay the most painful emotions out for others to see. Or, more likely, he was like them.
“I’m sorry we didn’t help when you asked. This is a nice thing you’ve done here.” Arthur put his hands in his pockets, like a man awaiting punishment, which was unexpected and unfitting on his father.
“So many people came!” His mother hugged Ryan lightly, continuing the increased affection that started the day Gramma died. She and Arthur were both dressed up, as if for dinner with friends or church, not every day casual. It touched Ryan that they saw this as the special occasion he meant it to be.
“We advertised all over the neighborhood, but I didn’t expect this many people.”
“It was good to see everyone enjoying the pictures and remembering her. I was so busy watching everyone else, I’m only looking at the pictures now. I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner.”
“We have the pictures and everyone’s memories written down. I’ll put it all together, so we can look at it whenever we want.”
“That will be nice,” Mary said.
“I am glad you guys came tonight. I have something I want to talk to you about. And share something else that happened tonight. I want you to know that I’m accepting the Yoshida fellowship. I’m going to Japan.”
Mary smiled. Arthur nodded.
“It’s the right thing for me to do right now.”
“I thought you decided not to go.” Arthur reached out a hand then quickly stuffed it in his pocket.
“I did, but here I am going.”
“Maybe we can come visit.” Mary looked to Arthur for agreement. “When Ben does. Would be nice to have the whole family finally see Japan together.”
The first smile he’d seen from his father in weeks was better than any sunrise. “We can look up where some of our ancestors are buried and visit them. See the places Mom talked about, from when she went.”
“That’s the next thing I want to talk to you about.”
“Our ancestors?”
“No, not exactly. I have something I want to show you.”
He invited his parents over to the folding table with the guest book and space for people to write memories on cards. Ben and Veronica stayed on the other side of the room, heads down, talking softly.
Ryan took the photograph from his shirt pocket and held it out to his father, his hand shaking the same way Mr. Nakamoto’s had in a similar gesture earlier.
“This belongs to you more than it belongs to me. It didn’t belong here on the wall.”
Arthur flipped it over to see if anything was written on the back the way Ryan had.
“It’s your brother’s gravestone,” Ryan said.
Arthur’s eyebrows shot up. Mary’s hand flew to her mouth in surprise.
“What do you mean?” his father said.
“When I was in the hospital with Mrs. Hino, she told me Gramma lost a baby right after Grandpa left to go fight.”
Arthur stared at the photo for a quiet moment. “I have a memory of Mom being fat, but I was only three when my father shipped out. I wasn’t sure if it was a real memory. She cried a lot then. But everyone did.”
“Mrs. Hino told me that after the camp closed, they sent money to have the grave moved, but Gramma didn’t want it moved to Seattle. So it’s in a cemetery in Idaho. I don’t know who took this picture, or how Gramma got it.” Ryan shifted in his chair, wishing he had something to do with his hands.
“Old Mr. Hino used to travel out that way for work.” Arthur turned the picture over in his hand. “It seems strange Mom would choose this inscription.”
“I asked Mrs. Hino, and she confirmed that they chose it together. I wonder if Gramma just didn’t want to deal with it and went with Mrs. Hino’s suggestion.”
Arthur stared at it for a while. “She named you for him. Now I know why she chose that name when we offered to let her choose your middle name.”
“I wonder why she never told us,” Mary said.
“She wanted us to have happy memories,” Arthur said. “She told me that all the time when I was growing up.”
“That’s what I think too,” Ryan said. “She didn’t want us to know, or she’d have told us. But I’m glad Mrs. Hino told me, because I wouldn’t have known what to make of this picture otherwise. I might have tossed it aside, thinking she took it because of the matching name. She saved this picture for us, so it wouldn’t get lost to history.”
Arthur offered the picture back to Ryan.
“You keep it for now,” Ryan said. “We need to decide what to do with it.”
“I wonder if we can add it to her gravestone?” Mary looked thoughtful. “It might be nice there, with her picture beside it.”
“That would be nice,” Ryan said. “I have one more thing.” Ryan dug in his backpack under the table and brought out the letter Mr. Nakamoto gave him, explaining what it was.
Arthur read it, tears twinkling at the corners of his eyes. “This is my father. This is how she met my father.”
Ryan ached for what his father had lost. “Even though Mr. Nakamoto gave it to me as thanks for this show, you should keep it for a while.”
Arthur turned the letter over in his hand. “Her handwriting looked the same then.”
“I saw that too.”
“She was always right about you,” Arthur said. “You are a good boy.”