Chapter 39
CHAPTER 39
S hinji
Notes of tuberose and vanilla surround me, and I inhale, filling my lungs. We’re in Lakeshia’s she-asis. Soft R&B music about love and heartache plays from the built-in speakers. Lakeshia stretches out, and I rest my head on her lap.
Now that Paul is dead, days like these will end. Soon, Katsuo will demand Takeshi and I resume our duties. Until then, I’ll take advantage of every day by spending all my time with Lakeshia. She has yet to complain about my constant presence, and I’ll never tire of talking, holding, and just soaking in her presence.
Lakeshia lightly scratches my scalp, and I can almost forget about the scabs underneath my slowly regrowing locks. The tingly sensation zings through my body, awakening nerves that remind me I’m alive and with the woman who shares my love. My problem is, there’s guilt and memories from a past I left behind accompanying these sensations. And every time I look in the mirror, my recollections grow bolder and louder, overshadowing what should be a happy time.
The Giametti threat is over. I’m supposed to be in my celebration era. Lakeshia’s pregnant and we’re a few months away from fulfilling my dream of expanding our family.
Yes, I have concerns specific to Lakeshia’s health, but Takeshi has taken steps to ensure the best outcome. Although still early in the pregnancy, Lakeshia now has a full-spectrum doula who’ll live with us until our wife no longer exhibits worrying postpartum symptoms, though I hope she doesn’t experience any. She has an expert medical team worth a fortune. And Takeshi ensures their dedication with reminders that if we lose our wife or baby, they’ll suffer commensurate losses.
I should be overjoyed. I am overjoyed. Yet my joy comes with a bittersweet bite and ghosts from my past leeching my pleasure.
I roll, pushing my nose into Lakeisha’s stomach and I hug her waist.
“Shinji?” Her hand rests on my head, no longer scraping my scalp.
I hug her closer, not yet willing to dampen her day with my issues. After so many years of suppressing these emotions, why must they come up now? They pale compared to what Takeshi and Lakeshia have had to overcome.
“Give me a minute.” I bury my face in her belly, trying to connect with the baby inside because if I succeed, everything else will be fine. I’ll continue to act as if life is perfect until life gets in line.
I don’t care if my behavior seems childish. When have I ever?
Lakeshia pushes at my shoulder until I release her, rolling onto my back with a defeated sigh. She peers down at me. Lines mar her beautiful forehead. “Something’s going on with you.”
I open my mouth but she presses a finger on my lips before I can respond.
“I don’t want to hear an excuse. You obviously don’t want to talk, so let’s do something else.”
I quirk my brow at her. “Like what?”
“Retail therapy? We can ooh and ahh and buy all the baby stuff to fill the need you aren’t able to address.”
I caress her stomach. Maybe shopping is the answer. “I like that idea. Let’s go.” I bounce out of bed and usher her out of the house.
We arrive at a baby boutique in the heart of downtown Serenidad. It’s in the most luxurious shopping district. Maybe I’ll use this trip to buy Lakeshia and Takeshi something special, too.
“We probably shouldn’t go overboard…” Lakeshia strokes a soft gender-neutral onesie, a dreamy smile on her face and longing in her voice.
“You’re right.” I touch the light pink one next to her. “But cost and space aren’t issues. The house is big enough to make three nurseries.”
“Shinji!”
I stare at her with a raised brow. “Do you expect me to talk you out of buying something you like? Because as long as we’ve been together if you think I have an ounce of self-restraint in my body, I must be doing something wrong.”
Lakeshia rolls her eyes and smiles. “I’m thinking of Takeshi.”
“Good point. He’s probably already ordered everything for the nursery.”
She spins around with her mouth open in horror. “He wouldn’t! Would he? I mean, he likes to take initiative, but he wouldn’t shut us out on the decorating, right?”
“He’s more than capable, but considering how huge this is for our family, he might practice restraint. He is the master of self-control after all,” I huff, although I love when I’m the one under his command.
“True. I bet he’ll research everything to death and when we sit down to plan, he’ll steer us to the safest options.” Lakeshia picks up another gender-neutral item, a romper, and hands it to our shopping assistant quietly standing off to the side.
The aide scans it and confirms the size before stepping back and blending into the background.
We continue to the next display.
“Ooh, there’s a mommy section.”
The store helper steps up. “Yes, we carry prenatal and postpartum clothing, supplements, devices, literature… even items to help with high-risk pregnancies. You name it, we’ve got it.”
“I see where my money’s going on this trip.” Lakeshia starts toward the mommy section but stops when the attendant discreetly clears her throat.
“There’s also a daddy section. I can have an aide meet you there if you’d like.”
I catch Lakeshia’s eye, a mischievous grin growing on my face. “Is there something?—”
“Yes, he’d like someone to meet him while I shop for myself.”
“Lakeisha, why’d you let me out in public if you didn’t trust me?”
“That!” She points at me. “Act a fool when I’m not around. I won’t have you getting me kicked out because you decided to act out.” She turns to the helper, grabs her arm to rush her to the maternal area, and whispers, “Let’s go before he draws us in with his smile. It’s devastating, and I haven’t built up a resistance to it so I know you’ll fall faster than a spinning top when it stops whirling.”
I shake my head but go on my way. The daddy and me sets stop me mid-step. Although we don’t know the gender yet, the options for both are too enticing to my sarcastic sense of humor. Phrases like Drool Delivery on the onesie and Drool Catcher cause my fingers to tingle. I’m sold when I see the Narcoleptic onesie and Insomniac t-shirt.
I reach out to grab one of everything when a voice says, “Obasan, he can shop for himself.”
I shake my head.
There’s no way.
I grab two items, when an older, familiar voice responds, “That’s what’s wrong with modern women. You’re here, the clothes are here. Why make him take time out of his busy day to drive all the way here to buy something you can get for him now?”
My hand freezes over the clothes as an image of the lady from the gas station comes to mind.
Coincidences exist.
Right. I’m mishearing the lady’s voice. A remote gas station is one thing but at a baby store in the heart of Serenidad? There’s no way.
Coincidences exist.
Until they don’t.
I drop my hand and slowly turn with a sense of growing dread, praying I’ll breathe in relief when I confirm my fears are unfounded.
Except they aren’t.
The hair is in the same bob. The same Liese black dye she’s always bought since the eighties to hide her premature grays. The same face that used to smile at me when I exceeded her expectations.
I stand frozen as the sweet memories of being her dear son flash before my eyes. All the laughs and hugs she freely gave before the incident happened.
She notices me before I collect myself and disappear. Her face pales and a hint of a wistful smile appears. “Fumio?” Her voice shakes and she reaches her hand out but lets it drop to hang listlessly by her side.
Disgust and hatred more intense than the day she disinherited me, transforms the warm, loving mother I knew. In her place is the person who threw me away and convinced everyone in the family I murdered my twin brother.
Aya Nakashima. My mother.
“Fumio died, remember, obasan?” The young woman accompanying her touches her shoulder.
She looks familiar…
“Shinji?” She asks, her face frozen in surprise. “Oh, my goodness. It’s been forever. You disappeared during my senior year in high school. How have you been?”
“Hikaru?” I force her name out, finally recognizing my cousin.
She favors her mom’s side of the family with their rounder faces and full cheeks.
“Yeah. How random is it to meet in a baby store?” She pats her belly, molding the loose shirt over an almost invisible bump.
“Congratulations. How far…” I give up rasping out questions while my mother glares at me, her face getting redder and redder the longer Hikaru and I talk.
Soon she’ll forget we’re in public, that she likes to maintain a certain image.
“I’m about to pop. Ooh! You should come to my shower. Obasan is in town with the entire gang. We’ve kind of made a family reunion of it. Oops!” She hits her head, reminding me of the same girl who never let anyone talk when something excited her. “Are you here because of a shower or are you going to be a dad?”
“Enough!” Aya yells. “Hikaru, we do not know this person. Remember who you are. Nakashima’s don’t associate with murderers.”
“Okāsan—” I choke on the word.
“Don’t you dare. I told you the night I found out Fumio had died it should have been you. You were supposed to look out for him.” She grabs my cousin and turns. After taking two steps, she swings around. “I hope Hikaru is mistaken and you aren’t about to become a parent. You don’t deserve to be happy or to start a family when your brother can’t have one.” She drops Hikaru’s arm and advances on me, jabbing her finger in my chest while stabbing me with her insults.
My feet won’t move and my mouth won’t open to defend myself. Again. Like all those years ago. My grief at losing the one person who matched me so well we had the same DNA, slams into me again.
“If you are having a baby, I hope it dies before ever meeting you. Maybe losing your baby will finally make you understand my pain.” Aya takes Hikaru’s arm again.
Her shock softens her body, and Aya drags her to the exit. Hikaru doesn’t stop gaping at me, but what can she do?
“Shinji?” Lakeshia cups my face and turns me toward her. Furious tears sparkle in her brown eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I only caught the end of what that horrible woman said. I’m going to find her and teach her a lesson. No one wishes death on our baby. No one.”
I grasp her forearm, needing her touch, her voice, her everything to help me wipe away the last five minutes. “Don’t worry about her. I need to leave. Now.”