Akiko’s father was finally released to her on Tuesday morning and she was ready with a wake and funeral prepared. After the autopsy, they kept his body on dry ice and stuffed his orifices with cotton as was the usual custom. Chiyo and I arranged small gifts of sweets for everyone we thought would attend the wake and arrived at the funeral hall dressed in black. Mom offered to man the front table for the day, greeting guests and collecting the kodan, condolence money, which Akiko would use to pay for the funeral.
I smiled solemnly to Tama, standing next to his father’s casket, and he nodded back to me. Glancing around the room, I counted only five people, people I recognized from around town but didn’t know by name. My face slipped into a frown. This was the loneliness of old life. Kano’s wife had gone and many of his friends were dead too. In those last few years, Akiko said his health was failing and he had stopped visiting his favorite spots in town. I wished there were more activities for the elderly to do to keep them busy and happy in their final years. Imagining the lonely days for them saddened me.
Akiko emerged from the room next door, a place to go for food and drinks after guests paid their respects. Her pale and sallow face did not look much better than her father right now, and her crisply pressed black suit did nothing to help her complexion.
I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed, tried to squeeze life and love back into her. She deserved so much more than the treatment she’d received so far.
“Hey, how are you doing?” I hadn’t wanted to bug her too much, especially after the police hauled her off on Saturday.
She pulled away and straightened her suit jacket. “Can you believe I had to go out and buy this thing?” She frowned down at her outfit. “I want to burn it after today.”
I nodded, feeling the same way about several outfits of mine that I wore to sad events. The outfit I had worn to my grandmother’s funeral sat in the back of my closet for years until I sold it at the age of fifteen to a consignment store.
She took a deep breath and let it all out in a huff. “I’m okay. Well, I’ve been better. The food and drinks were mostly donated and the priest will be here at 11:00 to say the sutra. He’s going to the crematorium tonight, funeral tomorrow morning.”
She rubbed her eyes and yawned, and I peeked over her shoulder at Tama who greeted a few people and nodded at their condolences.
“Did Tama help you at all?” I kept my voice low.
“Him? No,” she grunted. “His job was to show up and be the first-born male. Just like it’s his job to take the money and run.”
“Shhhh,” I quieted her and glanced around. “Don’t let anyone hear you.”
“What?” A bitter note in her voice took me by surprise. “He always gets what he wants. Always.”
Movement at the door caught my eye. Haruka, dressed in a knee-length black wrap dress, walked across the room, her bouncy hair flowing behind her. Tama’s face lit up when she smiled at him, and I may have been imagining it, but I could’ve sworn Tama threw a glance at me over her head.
What was he trying to do? Impress me? I really didn’t care. Tama was way in my past, and I had no interest in him, even if his attention brought about a warmth in my body I hadn’t felt in years. Still, that warmth was lukewarm, at best.
Akiko looked between me and Tama with Haruka. “Are you interested in my brother again?”
“What? Me? No. Not even close.”
“He’s been talking about you a lot the last few days. Wondering what you’ve been doing the last five years, how long you’ll be home, if you’re returning to Tokyo…”
“Tell him to mind his own business,” I said, squeezing her arm. “I’m too good for him.” I winked at her, and she smiled weakly, but it was something.
“I have to go. I don’t expect a lot of people, but I’m sure most of them will be here this morning.”
She walked off, giving me a good view of Tama and Haruka, holding hands side by side, and speaking to people quietly. Why in the world would Tama be interested in me anyway when he had her?
Wanting to leave the wake as soon as possible, I hustled across the floor to the separate room where tables covered with flowers, trays of vegetable sushi, small sandwiches, and salads awaited hungry mourners. At the center of each round table, bottles of saké practically called my name. It may have only been 10:00, but I was ready to sit, eat, and drink the entire day away. Between losing my job and becoming a farmer’s daughter again, and my best friend’s father dying, I couldn’t think of a better reason to get drunk.
I chose a spot in the corner, set my purse on the table, poured myself a cup of saké, and got going.
This idea that Tama may be interested in me again bugged me. I’ll admit that I still thought he was handsome, and with a successful job, he was quite the catch. But I wasn’t one of those girls who got burned and forgot about it. I dropped Tama like a hot coal from the stove when I heard he cheated on me and I never looked back. If he didn’t want me then, why would he want me now? Besides, I found Haruka disgusting and him doubly so for being with her. We were so over.
I sipped on the saké, knowing that if I pounded it, I would regret it in about two hours. For a solid thirty minutes, I sat alone in the party room, waiting for someone to join me until Chiyo, Goro, and Kumi arrived. We waved and smiled to each other, and they took a moment to gather some food before coming to sit with me.
“Your mother says she’ll be in around lunchtime and then they’ll be done for the day. The priest will be here soon to say the sutra, but that should only take fifteen minutes or so.”
I drank more saké as the three of them discussed bathhouse plans. That must’ve been nice, to have a clear-cut job and business plan into the future. I stared into the clear liquid of my drink and tried to imagine my new life on the farm, one filled with hard-working days earning good money, and nights spent out with friends, going to art galleries or eating at fancy restaurants. Instead, I saw me at my mom’s age, a crazy cat lady, worn and brittle from the sun and working outdoors, no family, and no life outside of what I had at home. My mom had had it better than me. She actually met a man she loved and had children with him. I doubted I’d have the same kind of luck.
I looked up at the door in time for Shin Tajima, the mayor of Chikata, to walk in. I felt the urge to jump to my feet, like one does when your boss walks in the room or someone much farther up the chain of command. Chiyo, Goro, and Kumi just nodded and greeted him like they would any other person, so I did the same.
“Do you guys know Tajima-san?” I whispered. He had pulled his phone out and was listening to it while picking up sushi rolls and depositing them on a plate.
“Of course,” Chiyo whispered back. “Most people in town know him.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird he’s here? Last I saw him, he was in Akiko-chan’s house, and she was yelling at him that she wasn’t going to sell her land to him.”
“Hmmm,” Goro said, rubbing at his chin and training his eyes on Tajima, oblivious to us, though we were the only people in the room. He sat down at a table on the other side of the room, scrolling through something on his phone.
“Hey,” I whispered at Goro, swatting my hand in his direction. “No free tips. It’s me against you, remember? And I want to see you run in your underwear.”
He huffed a laugh. “Fat chance but fine. Have you looked at Fujita Takahara?”
“He was also at Akiko-chan’s the other night. I didn’t like him. He seemed… too slick. A little too polished to be a regional manager of a grocery store.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Goro snapped his fingers. “They were both leaving in a BMW when we arrived. I thought I saw them but they were driving too fast. Well, we’ve been looking into him. I can’t say what I’ve found yet, but we are looking.”
“Hmmm.” I leaned back into my chair and sipped more saké. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Goro jerked his head towards the door as Fujita Takahara entered. He avoided the table of food and sat next to Tajima. They tilted their heads close to each other and whispered, but I couldn’t hear anything.
Would the murderer show up to the funeral of the man he killed?
Maybe he would to throw anyone off the scent.
My body began to warm as the saké flowed through me. I pressed my cold hands against my cheeks and tried to calm the alcohol flush response, the one thing that totally gave me away when I drank. I was a stone-hard kind of drunk. I didn’t get mushy, lovie, or sloppy. I merely became a rock — silent and immobile. Unless I was alone with someone I liked and then the truth poured out of my mouth like a waterfall in the spring after the snow had melted. I was safe at a funeral, though.
I rose from the table to slowly walk past Tajima and Takahara, hopeful I could overhear what they were saying.
“… But the fourth hole is tricky because of that sand trap just around the corner…”
Damn. They were talking about golf? What could be more boring than that?
Disappointed, I stood at the food table and piled a plate with vegetable sushi.
“Better save some for the other guests,” a voice at my shoulder said, scaring me and sending my plate jolting forward. His hand snapped out and caught it before the food tumbled off. Yasahiro, the chef I challenged, smiled at me. Oh no. I wasn’t prepared to deal with him again until lunch next week.
“I… I get hungry when I drink.” This was true too. Alcohol meant a whole lot of truth and food. Both of which could leave me either someone’s best friend or someone’s greatest enemy by the time I was done.
He laughed, grabbing his own plate and adding a few sandwiches. “Me too. I’m, uh, glad I bumped into you again, though I suppose I should have known I’d see you here today —”
“Did you know Kano-san?” I asked, my voice ten times louder than it should be. I closed my eyes and cursed silently at myself. “Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
“That’s okay. Yeah, I did know him. He liked to go to Izakaya Jūshi in the evenings, and that’s one of my favorite hangouts. We used to drink together before he got sick.”
“Ah. I see. He did love that izakaya.” I set my plate down and tried not to waver as I crossed my arms. “How long ago, would you say it was, when he got sick?”
Did it sound like I was pumping him for information? I couldn’t tell.
He popped a sushi roll in his mouth and thought, his eyes turned to the ceiling. I followed them upwards and marveled at his hair, so stylishly messy, but not immature. I hated all those trendy, moppy boyish cuts. He seemed much more polished.
“About three months ago. Maybe the beginning of summer. I haven’t seen him there since.”
I thought back to my conversations with Akiko. He had been sick a lot this past year, but Akiko swore he had recovered.
“So,” Yasahiro said, clearing his throat. I snapped my attention to him. “I was wondering if there are any foods that you absolutely hate.”
“What?” That was such a strange question, especially since we were just talking about Akiko’s dad.
“For next week. The challenge.” He pushed up his sleeves on his sweater over a button-down shirt. My gaze settled on the ripples of muscle in his forearms.
“Do you get that from working pans in the kitchen?” I asked, pointing to his arms.
Oh my god, did I ask that out loud? I glanced around to make sure no one else heard me. I thought I’d be safe here with so many people in the room, but my mouth had switched to TRUTH ONLY and my face burst into flames.
Yasahiro smiled as he coughed and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I suppose I do.”
God, kill me now.
“Eggplant. I don’t know why but I can’t stand eggplant.” I could handle this truth, and it spurted from my mouth like water from a fire hose. “Hopefully that’s not like your signature dish or anything.”
“Nope. That should be fine.”
I blew out a relieved breath as I stepped back. Saved that one!
Akiko appeared at the door, mercifully stopping me from embarrassing myself further.
“The priest is here to perform the sutra. If you could step into the main room now…” She gestured to her side and everyone stood up from their tables.
I ducked my head away from Yasahiro and ran to Chiyo’s side.
She giggled in my ear. Great. She caught me being awkward with Yasahiro. I would never live that down.
“Not a word from you,” I hissed back as we joined everyone for prayers and incense.