But by the time they reached the hospital, Yoko had already been cleared to go home.
“It was a panic attack,” Aunt Valerie explained as she helped Yoko back to her car. Lily and Grandma Esme chased them, unsure of what to do. “The doctor said to get plenty of liquids and rest. I’m going to take her home.”
Yoko looked exhausted and maybe twenty years older than she had at dinner last night. Lily knew she needed to care for this woman, that it was what Liam would want. Before Aunt Valerie closed the passenger door between Yoko and Lily, Lily bent forward and touched Yoko’s shoulder. “I’m going to come over,”she promised. She realized, after their discussion last night, that she shouldn’t have left Yoko on her own.
Something was amiss—something overwhelmingly lonely about Yoko’s eyes.
Rather than ride with her grandmother, Lily got into the car with Aunt Valerie and Yoko and texted her mother to let her know what was up. Rebecca sent back a panicked message, saying she sent me her best and to let me know if I needed anything. But it was impossible to tell what Yoko needed. As they drove back to the Reynolds estate, Yoko didn’t say a thing.
“I think we’re going to need dinner,” Aunt Valerie said from the front seat, finding Lily’s eyes in the rearview. “But I have to get home to help Alex with August.”
“I got it,” Lily promised.
Once they reached the house, Lily got out and helped Yoko out of the passenger seat and into the front door. Aunt Valerie was behind them the entire way, ready in case Yoko collapsed. But Yoko was slight and as graceful as a ballerina. When they reached the sofa in front of the television, she sat daintily, raised her chin, and thanked them for taking her home.
“I don’t need any help from here,” she said, unable to look at them. It was apparent she was too embarrassed to fully acknowledge what had happened.
Aunt Valerie sat beside her and touched her shoulder. “You know,” she said to Yoko, furrowing her brow, “we’ve been through a lot in the Sutton family. Much more than it always looks like. I was alone for years back in San Francisco. I didn’t think I’d survive my loneliness sometimes.” She inhaled sharply, as though the memory of that painful time still crashed in on her.
But Yoko didn’t take the bait. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.
If Yoko’s loneliness was as thick as the fog that rolled in off the Nantucket Sound, Yoko was to be the last to acknowledge it. Lily wondered if that was a Japanese habit or a Yoko one.
Soon, Aunt Valerie admitted she really did have to go. “Call me if you need anything,” she said to first Yoko, then Lily, before gliding to the front door and disappearing into the night.
Lily sat in silence for a full minute, unable to look at her future mother-in-law. She remembered the cryptic way Yoko had spoken last night about relationships and wondered if Yoko’s breakdown had anything to do with Kendall. It seemed that he really was always gone.
“I’m going to make you some tea,” Lily said.
Yoko thanked her and reached for the remote control. She played an old Japanese movie without subtitles, which sounded pleasant and nonsensical in Lily’s ears. The soundtrack was divine, sweeping strings and stylish guitar picking. When she returned with the tea, Yoko took it and continued to watch the television, as though she’d disappeared into it.
Lily took this opportunity to go upstairs and call Liam.
It had been a couple of days since Lily and Liam had spoken on the phone. Liam was busy with reshoots and promotions and auditions and so on, preparing for his “big winter out East,” which he saw as a time of relaxation and “avoiding fame.”
But Liam didn’t answer, not on the second or fourth time she called.
When Lily went back downstairs, she realized how slender Yoko looked, tucked under a blanket with her ankles crossed. Feeling like her own mother, she hurried to the kitchen and made a platter of snack food, hoping that Yoko would pick at things as the day wore on. Crackers, chips, nuts, and sweet treats. Lily knew her cooking couldn’t hold a candle to Yoko’s, so she didn’t even want to try. Maybe in an hour or two, she’d orderfood. Did Yoko like pizza? She couldn’t imagine Yoko inhaling a slice of pepperoni the way Lily wanted to right now.
When Yoko’s first film finished, she ate the first of the assembled snacks and put on another Japanese movie from the 1970s. This time, for Lily, she added English subtitles and said, “You’ll like this one. It’s about a matchmaker in Tokyo. Things are not so different these days.” It was as though she’d just realized Lily sat beside her.
Eventually, Lily texted Liam.
LILY: Your mother isn’t feeling well. I’m at the house taking care of things. Btw, does she like pizza?
Liam called right away. To avoid bothering Yoko, Lily hurried back upstairs and into the study to answer him.
“What’s going on?” Liam demanded.
Lily explained what Grandma Esme had told her and what had happened since. “I think she’s really lonely with your dad on business trips all the time,” she said tentatively. She knew how Liam felt about his father, knew how close they were.
“She’s never been bothered by it before,” Liam retorted. There was a bratty edge to his voice as though Lily had caused Yoko’s breakdown.
“She needs to eat something,” Lily said. “Pizza? Mexican? Sandwiches?”
“Keep it simple,” Liam said after a pause. “Nothing too heavy. It hurts her stomach.”
“Got it,” Lily said, grateful for Liam’s input.
