Patrick felt the weight of Kiri on his arm as he struggled awake, though he wasn’t sure he’d even slept. Jenna was still asleep against the wall with her hair splayed out and her legs angled like she’d just kicked a soccer ball in her sleep.
The eight-tatami floor was a chaotic jumble of bags, clothes, pillows, futon covers, and blankets. In the corner were meditation cushions, yoga mats, and a compact stereo system with a tower of relaxation CDs. Kyle had been using the tatami room, more of a box than a room, for meditation or yoga. Kyle had always been there for him, but meditation didn't seem like him. Maybe it was his girlfriend.
Like Patrick, Kyle was Boston Irish, from the well-off suburbs of Boston, while Patrick was from the poorer south side. That difference meant little in Tokyo far from the subtle hierarchies of the East Coast, and anyway, they both attended name schools, Kyle at Amherst as a legacy and Patrick squeaking into Northeastern. They both studied economics, hated it, but liked making money.
They became best buds in their first few months in Tokyo, bonding over a shared love of laughing, eating, drinking, and chasing women. They both took their postings to Tokyo as a lark. They went in search of adventure most nights and always found it one way or another.
One night after they sealed a big deal for Pacific Investments, before Patrick had been headhunted to Nine Dragons, they were dancing at a DJ club in Shibuya called “Unicorn.” Patrick tried to explain the symbolic meaning of unicorns to one of the two Japanese women they met. The women kept ordering champagne and Patrick kept charging it. He couldn’t remember either of their names.
Kyle hoisted a flute of champagne and threw his arm over Patrick’s shoulder, spilling his drink on one of the women’s shirts. She jumped back, brushed her clingy black midriff top, and giggled. Kyle apologized, Patrick got a towel from the bar, and the two women went to clean up.
After they left, Kyle leaned close and shouted over the pounding throb of the music. “Booster, I want to live here forever.”
Patrick cupped his hands over Kyle’s ear. “In this club?”
“No, you fool. In Tokyo. Everything’s here. Everything.”
“Horndog, you’re just going through a phase.”
“No, man, I’m not. I’m going to die here.”
“Not soon, I hope.”
“Maybe never. If I’m lucky. That’s how I feel tonight—like I’ll live forever. In Tokyo.” Kyle wrapped Patrick in a bro hug. The women, whatever their names were, came back and threw their arms around them in a hot huddle, jumping up and down and spilling more champagne. As they spun out to the dance floor again, Patrick realized that was how he felt too—that he wanted to live in Tokyo forever.
Patrick felt little fingers tickling him. “Does that tickle?” Kiri asked.
“Not so much.” Patrick pulled her close.
“Where’s the bathroom?” Kiri sat up.
Patrick rose up on an elbow and pushed the futon aside. “I’ll take you, sweetie. I got to pee too.”
He pushed himself up and pulled Kiri to her feet. She pushed her hair back just like Miyuki did and started doing a little have-to-pee dance. Patrick hurried with her down the hall.
From inside the bathroom came the sound of running water. That made him want to pee all the more. He knocked.
“Come in!” a woman’s voice shouted.
“My daughter has to pee,” Patrick shouted.
“That’s fine!” Kyle’s girlfriend poked her head around the door. She had dimples, white teeth, and a small tattoo of some mythical bird poking above the towel wrapped around her. She stooped down, smiled, and took Kiri’s hand. “I’ll show you where.”
Kiri let go of his hand and hurried in, immediately chattering away in Japanese. He wondered how long they’d take. He really had to pee. He was about to start looking for a sink when both of them poked their heads out. Kyle’s girlfriend said, “We’re going to take a shower. Could you get her clothes? I’m Miki, by the way.”
“Miki. OK, hi, I’m Patrick. And Kyle…?”
Kiri said, “Tell Jenna to come. It’s a super-cool shower.”
“I’ll get her and some clothes,” Patrick said.
Miki shut the door and Patrick could hear Kiri giggling inside.
Jenna was still sleeping, so he pulled her into his arms. She opened her eyes and snuggled into him. “Kiri’s taking a shower and you’re next. Can you pick out something for her to wear?”
“I have to pee.” So did he, thinking of the kitchen sink.
“Let’s get a change of clothes for you and Kiri and I’ll show you where.”
Jenna dug in the bags. “Everything’s out of order in here.”
“We can repack later. Just pick something you like.”
Jenna dragged out two changes of clothes and rolled them neatly. “I really have to pee.”
“So do I. Come on.”
She got up, clothes in hand, and Patrick led her to the shower. Kyle came out of his bedroom in his black kimono.
Jenna eyed him up and down. “Uncle Kyle, I think that’s a woman’s kimono.”
“I’m a cross-dresser.” Kyle laughed, his curly red hair bouncing like a toy lion’s mane.
“What’s that?”
“Look how pretty you are even with bed hair.” Kyle patted Jenna on the head.
Jenna wiggled and smiled and hurried off to shower.
“I’m busting for a piss,” Patrick said.
“There’s another toilet by the front door, you idiot.”
“Oh, I forgot.” Patrick sprinted down the hall.
His bladder empty, he strolled back to the kitchen lured by the scent of coffee brewing. Through the sliding glass doors of the balcony, he could see all the way to the Chiba coastline across Tokyo Bay. Rainbow Bridge spanned the water like a science project and planes took off like toys from Haneda Airport to the south. Patrick closed his eyes, imagining the missed plane landing in Honolulu.
Kyle had changed from the kimono into sweats and was putting out breakfast things. “I was going to wake you up for a jog, but it seemed like you and the girls were sleeping.”
“You jog in that kimono?”
Kyle laughed. “Maybe on Halloween.” Kyle set out fruit and bagels. “These aren’t like New York, but they’re not bad.”
Patrick squeezed a bagel.
Kyle handed him a mug of coffee. “You did a runner. I was really shocked. Miyuki called me, worried. What’s going on?”
Patrick sipped his coffee and gestured it was delicious.
Kyle looked at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back? I would’ve…”
“We missed our plane. We should have been landing in Honolulu just about now.”
“Your plane? You came here and… ah, I get it. Custody thing?” Kyle sipped his coffee.
Patrick looked at him. “You don’t want to know.”
“Did you rebook the flight?” Kyle gestured for Patrick to sit down.
Patrick clutched his mug and surrendered to yesterday’s fatigue and the coming day’s uncertainty. “I might need your help.”
“Why don’t you crash out here today and let me arrange it for you. You want to fly out right away?”
“I’m not sure. I got in touch with this group. For dispossessed parents. They told me not to see anyone I used to know.”
“Is that the support group for divorced parents who couldn’t see their kids for like twenty years? There’s a guy like that at work.”
“You can’t let anyone know I’m here. Don’t let it slip to anyone.”
“And Miyuki—”
“Especially her.”
Kyle set his cup down. “I wish you’d put me in on this from the get-go.”
Patrick sipped his coffee and looked out the window. “Your girlfriend’s nice.”
“Yeah, she is. I might be following in your footsteps pretty soon. I want you as best man. Another reason I wish you’d answered my messages. I figured you couldn’t stand the marriage thing, got a new investment gig.”
“Nothing like that.”
“Then why—?”
Patrick shook his head. “Work.”
Kyle gave him a look that said, “Bullshit.”
Patrick drank his coffee and stared out the window. “I’ll explain…but it’s just gotten…”
Kiri and Jenna’s giggles preceded them down the hall.
“Booster, whatever it’s gotten to be, you know Pacific Investments would rehire you in a flash.”
“They wouldn’t want me at this point.”
The girls skipped into the room and Kyle leaned down. “Here’s my two favorite girls in the entire world. I hope you like bagels?”
“We love them,” Jenna said.
“Toasted?”
“Yes!” Jenna said. “Do you have cream cheese?”
“The best in Tokyo.” Kyle popped bagels in the toaster and opened the refrigerator.
“Do you have jam?” Kiri asked.
“Of course.” Kyle opened the fridge and moved bottles around. “What about yuzu, sudachi, kaki, or kinkan?”
Kiri stepped over to look inside with Kyle. She turned to look at Jenna.
“Yuzu.” Jenna decided for them both.
Kyle set it out and pulled the bagels onto a plate.
“The yogurt I made myself.” Kyle plopped down a container.
Miki came out in a tight skirt and white blouse, her thick hair pinned back by a barrette. A light touch of perfume floated through the kitchen dining area. She smiled and fiddled with her earrings, three in one ear, as perfectly spaced as an ellipsis. She put her hands on the back of Kyle’s chair and leaned into him. “So, you’re Patrick? I heard a lot about you.”
Jenna finished a bite of bagel. “Miki soaped our backs. It was so scratchy, we screamed.”
Kyle looked at her. “You’re not going to join us for breakfast?”
Miki smiled. “I’ve got to run. I’m already late.”
“We’ll see you later!” Kiri said, wiggling in her seat. “Thank you for scratching us to death.”
“Anytime.” Miki kissed Kyle and hurried off with her briefcase.
Kyle followed her to the front door. Patrick tried to listen as he pulled out the second round of toasted bagels and hot-fingered them to a plate.
Kyle came back and sat down.
Patrick said, “Don’t you have work?”
“Meetings in the afternoon. Let’s finish breakfast first.”
Patrick chomped into his bagel and waved Kyle to the hallway out of earshot of the girls. “I have to get to an ATM. Can you watch the girls? I don’t want to leave them alone.”
“Booster, you’re kind of scaring me with all this cloak and dagger.”
“I’ll explain, but not right now.”
“Two blocks back to the station, there’s a convenience store.”
“Actually…”
“Actually, you don’t want to use your card. Miyuki will trace it, right?”
“Miyuki’s the least of it.”
Kyle paused. “Use mine. Take however much you need.”
Patrick looked him in the eye and didn’t say what he was thinking, that that was the problem, knowing how much you needed.