Chapter 24
It’s Sunday night, and we’re sitting in a wooden booth in a Japanese shabu-shabu restaurant on the Lower East Side. William orders in Japanese. Huge points. The candlelight outlines his profile.
Two plates of raw beef slices appear, and we get a whole assortment of vegetables to add to the pot. William expertly places them in the hot pot in the middle of the table. The broth bubbles, and the smell of boiling meat and vegetables is making me even hungrier.
“Why don’t you want to tell your family?” William asks. “Are you embarrassed to be dating me?”
I still. “No. Definitely not. Why would you even think that?”
“Because why else would you not want to tell your family?”
“Because Uncle Tony and Takashi expressly warned me not to date you,” I say. “I told you that.”
“And Uncle Takashi warned me. But I still want to tell him. They’ll accept that we’re adults.”
“I know,” I say. “It’s not even that. I don’t want the extra family scrutiny. I want to keep you to myself and not have to share our relationship with everyone else at the moment. Especially if Uncle Tony and Takashi are going to object to it. Let’s spend some time dating first. And I definitely don’t want to tell my mom yet, although she would frankly be delighted to know that I’m dating an accountant with his own business. Won’t your grandmother be disappointed that you’re not dating someone Japanese?”
“It’s not like my father married someone Japanese,” he says. “She’ll be happy if I’m happy. I would love to show you Japan. Tokyo has a similar energy to New York. The people are really friendly, and I think you’d love it. There’s so much to see—the art, the nightlife, and the gardens.”
“And the food.” I slurp down a spoonful of shabu-shabu. “Are you going on another trip there soon?” Or is he talking long term?
“Probably in a few months. If work allows. That’s another reason I started my own business.”
“What are some of the others?”
He adds more vegetables to the pot. “I wanted to be my own boss. I’m not that patient, and I’m not inclined to be subordinate.”
“I’ve never been very good at being subordinate. And I hate having to play defined roles, like the role of the politician’s dutiful daughter.”
“What about your father?” he asks. “Couldn’t you have lived with him instead of John and your mom?”
“That would have never worked politically—my mom not having custody of her daughter would have been too much of a story. Although my dad is fun, he’s not the most responsible guy. It’s very much ‘you’re on your own,’” I say. “As a child visiting, it was like a Pippi Longstocking experience. Which was fun initially, but I got tired of eating cheese sandwiches for dinner. Which was about all I could make.”
“You didn’t learn to cook?”
“I should have, shouldn’t I?” I eat some more. “Also, he lives in the Catskills. I love visiting, but I like being surrounded by people, the lights and energy of New York, and even the heat of the apartments here.” William’s head is tilted as he listens intently. “I miss being able to go to the store at night and check out people at bars or spy on those other lives in the lit-up windows.”
“I get it,” he says.
“Your parents are still happily married, right?”
He nods.
I take his hand. “To be honest, normally, I’d introduce you to Uncle Tony as the first member of my family.”
“Is that what you did with Rex?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Our relationship was announced on The Squirrel gossip page via a photo of Rex and me kissing after a concert.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, that’s not the way you want to tell your parents—especially since the photo mostly showed my face and Rex’s bicep with a tattoo. I looked like I was kissing someone in a motorcycle gang instead of a scrawny LaGuardia High School student,” I say. “It wasn’t even a real tattoo. Rex had put on a fake one for the concert. His mother would’ve killed him if he’d gotten a real tattoo.”
“Was Rex upset?”
“No, he was happy about the publicity,” I say. “Our next concert was mobbed. And we were able to book venues that normally wouldn’t accept a high school rock band. It was crazy.”
“Did you consider being a rock star when you were in high school?” He pours us both some more sake.
“No,” I say. “It was just fun. I always knew I wanted to be an artist.”
William eats. “But then why not tell Tony?”
“We’ve been dating for one day,” I say. “It’s not like you normally introduce your girlfriends to your family in your first week.”
“No, but we’re going to see Uncle Takashi, and I’m not going to lie to him.”
“You’re right. I don’t want to lie to them.” I take another bite. “Fine, we can tell them—but only them.”
“William!” says a female voice.
It’s Kiyoko with two girlfriends, on their way out.
“I thought that was you. We were sitting in the back over there.” She looks at me with definite interest. I hope she doesn’t remember me as the waitstaff from William’s party.
“Hi, Kiyoko. This is Miranda,” William says.
“Hi,” I say. He doesn’t introduce me as his girlfriend. Cold whispers of doubt slither through my stomach.
Kiyoko introduces her two girlfriends. “We were on our way to a karaoke spot. Do you guys want to come?”
No.Not on our first official date, but these are William’s friends. And I don’t want to seem jealous. And maybe William will then look more fun in front of Kiyoko, and he can feel validated. He’s so not boring.
The waiter clears our plates.
“You don’t have to sing,” Kiyoko says. “No pressure.”
“Miranda is the female lead singer of The Tempest.” William glances at me. “Do you want to go?”
“Sure, if you want to.”
The karaoke room has an L-shaped couch with little tables in front of it. A big video screen in the front of the room displays the lyrics. Other screens showcase the song’s video. William places an order for five beers. I also ask for a bottle of water. William leaves to go pick up our drinks.
Kiyoko and her girlfriends pick out songs from the catalog next to me on the fake-leather couch.
“How do you know William?” Kiyoko asks.
I’m dating him. But since he didn’t introduce us that way, I don’t think I can say that.
“His uncle Takashi is married to my uncle Tony,” I say.
“Oh, you’re family,” she says, seeming relieved. I’m not getting the disinterested vibe.
“Not by blood,” I say. Because I can’t help it.
“How do you know William?” I lean against the plastic seatback.
“We dated briefly,” she says.
“Why’d you break up?” I ask.
“She was a fool,” her friend says.
Kiyoko plays with her bracelet. “I had a crush on this other guy at the same time, and I was annoyed with my grandmother for setting me up on a blind date.”
“I’ve told her that her grandmother can set me up on a date anytime she wants,” her friend says. “Her grandmother has excellent taste.”
“I think he is dating someone now,” I say before she gets her hopes up that he’s single. I flip through the catalog to figure out what songs to sing.
When William comes back, Kiyoko invites him to an accounting get-together. He accepts.
Kiyoko asks, “William, what song are you going to sing?”
“I don’t sing,” William says.
“Why are we doing karaoke if you don’t sing?” I ask.
“I’m a good listener,” he says.
“Duet with me. It’ll be good,” I say.
“I’m not Rex.”
“Let’s do a duet,” I say. “You can do the male part of ‘Barbie Girl.’ You can talk most of the male lines.” And this will show his playful side. He looks pained, but I butt him with my shoulder.
“Okay,” he says.
We sing “Barbie Girl.” I dance around him, even sliding up against him at one point. William gets into the spirit of it, hamming it up, especially as I sashay around him. He’s a good dancer.
We sit down. The room is pretty small, and we’re all crowded next to each other. William is between me and Kiyoko.
“You can sing, William.” Kiyoko pats his arm.
“I wasn’t exactly singing,” William says. “But thank you. I’ll stick to clapping for you guys, though, from now on.”
Kiyoko brings up some event both their grandmothers are attending. It sounds significant. William reminds her that they met at that event initially. They discuss some mutual friends in common.
Kiyoko finishes her beer and insists on singing again. She sings “It Must Have Been Love” by Roxette, staring straight at William.
William blushes.
I whisper, “Shouldn’t you tell her we are dating?”
William whispers back, “Yes, but I can’t tell her right now. After that song.”
I pick “Wild Women” and sing it to the room.
Kiyoko is leaning against William. There’s plenty of space, though, between her and her friends. She doesn’t need to be stuck to him.
She picks “I Want You Back” by The Jackson 5 and sings it with some side glances toward her friends, but mostly to William.
I whisper to him, “You should sing ‘I’m Taken.’ Over and over again.”
William snorts.
Kiyoko’s friends take turns singing a bunch of different songs.
I pick “Bizarre Love Triangle” by New Order. William’s mouth kicks up as I sing it, but I don’t sing it directly to him. That’s just too obvious.
She picks “Only You” by Yaz and stares straight at William when she sings it. This is brutal. She sits back down and curls into him.
As I take the mike, I raise my eyebrow at him, and he shifts away from Kiyoko.
And I close with “Fire for You,” staring at William, with a few sultry moves thrown in.
As the song fades, he stands. “We should probably leave. We have to meet the uncles tomorrow early. It was great seeing you, Kiyoko, and nice meeting you guys.”
“You’re leaving together?” Kiyoko asks.
“We were having dinner together,” William says. “I’m taking her home.”
He says it like he’s taking me to his home. Which he is.
As we walk down the street at Saint Mark’s Place, William pulls me close, wrapping his arm around me. We pass by shops crowded on top of each other, both basement level and up a staircase. Signs announce tattoos, ear piercings, and psychics. The peeling remains of rock concert posters pepper one brick building. Another building is painted orange and black to suggest tiger stripes.
“Why didn’t you introduce me as your girlfriend?” I ask.
“I thought you wanted to keep it just between the two of us,” William says.
“Not in front of someone you dated.”
“Were you jealous?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t need to be.”
“I thought you didn’t stay friends with exes.”
“She’s barely an ex. Plus, she’s my grandmother’s friend’s granddaughter. I can’t be rude to her,” he says. “You’re one to talk, given Rex.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I say. “I suppose it’s good to go to this accounting thing.”
“It sounds like it would be a good place to make business contacts.”
“Hmm.”
“Do you want to come?” he asks. “I don’t exactly think it would be your thing.”
I do want to come. “No. I’d probably be bored, and that wouldn’t help you.”
“Anyway, that’s not what I want to focus on right now,” William says as we stand alone on the street corner.
“No? What do you want to focus on right now?” I ask archly.
He pulls me close to him and kisses me, his hand reaching up to curve around my head. I run both my hands through his hair as I kiss him back.
“Let’s go back to my place.” He hails a cab.
We scoot in and buckle up our seat belts. Strapped in to our respective spots, there’s some distance between us. Plus, I prefer to keep it respectable when I’m in a cab. William has a mischievous look on his face.
His hand is on my knee, and he traces zigzagged lines over my thigh, coming closer and closer. My breath hitches.
We are stuck in traffic. Our cab suddenly pulls ahead of the other cars.
I put my hand on his knee and let my hand tiptoe up the inner side of his thigh.
His hand covers mine. “No farther.”
“Agreed.”
The cab stops in front of his place. William pays, and we get out.
We share the elevator ride up to his apartment with another couple. All four of us look frustrated to be with each other.
Finally, we’re in his apartment and Sora and Pochi bark, greeting us. William backs me up against the wall, kissing me, his hand tangling in mine. He lifts me up, and I grip him with my legs. I run my hands over his back muscles under his shirt. I can feel them straining to hold me. He tastes of sake and salty potato chips. His hand reaches under my shirt to unsnap my bra. I squirm to get closer. I unbutton his shirt as he lifts up mine so we are skin to skin, warmth to warmth. As he touches me, the hallway narrows to him and me, touching, feeling, desiring. It’s like a kaleidoscope of colors and layers of paint building up, intensifying, until finally I collapse on him, resting my head on his shoulder.
Sora barks. We both look down to see her sitting there, staring up expectantly.
“I need to,” he says breathlessly, “walk the dogs.”
“Hurry back.” I stare at the bulge in his still-present jeans. “It’s your turn next.”
He kisses me firmly on the lips, buttoning up his shirt, and then clips the leashes on Sora and Pochi.
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet.” Smiling wickedly, he closes the door, leaving with Sora and Pochi.