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“You don’t have to. But it’s good for you.”
“So is a shot of wheatgrass in the morning, but you don’t see me doing that shit. Why can’t they just offer a beer or some whiskey like normal people when they talk about shit after dinner?”
He grabs my hand, and I force myself not to look at our fingers intertwined. Instead, I keep my eyes straight ahead while my body calculates everything. The way his hand feels against mine, warm and calloused from his time working on bikes all day. A scar on the knuckle of his thumb and another one on his palm. Grounding.
I felt those fingers inside me, but this is almost more intimate. Especially when he moves his thumb slowly up and down over mine. He seems natural right now, not an ounce of distress coming off him.
Unlike me.
Anything could happen when we speak to my grandfather. Nothing is off the table.
Still, it feels like nothing compared to the way my heart is beating nonstop because of the man beside me. Showing me more affection than I ever received in this house once my mother passed.
The tearoom is the same as it was before, so I don’t react once I see it. Unlike Atom.
“Whoa. This is a tearoom?” he asks as he takes in the leather chairs and dark mahogany antique tansu cabinets along the wall.
“Not in the traditional way. It was a tearoom when the house was constructed over seventy years ago. However, it’s been changed to more of a parlor for guests who wish to talk to Grandfather.”
“Why not just call it a parlor, then?”
“Tradition,” Takahashi-san says as he waves a hand to the open seats beside him. “Please.”
We move as a unit to sit on the couch. As soon as we all sit, the house woman brings in a tray with tea on it. I fight the giggle in my throat at Atom’s grumble, but it’s low enough that I think Grandfather can’t hear it. Or just overlooks it.
“Thank you, Keiko,” Grandfather says when she bows and turns to go.
“Keiko?” I call out, and she turns. “One Orion, please.”
She looks at my grandfather, who gives her a curt nod, and then leaves again.
As I was taught from a very young age, I pour my grandfather and myself a cup of tea.
Keiko reenters softly and sets down the bottled beer. I nod in thanks and hand my grandfather his drink, then my husband his beverage, and take the last cup of tea for myself.
“This is good, Sunshine,” Atom says after taking a sip. “Not as good as Bulldog’s stuff, but decent enough.”
“It is traditional Japanese beer. Brewed in our homeland and imported to the States,” Grandfather says.
“If you like this, I’ll get some of my brother’s beer shipped over here. We just went international ourselves a few years back.”
“I have heard. But it is interesting how many times you seem to have a shipment sent to the Middle East.”
The way Grandfather sips on his drink and casually speaks to Atom has me hesitating in drinking from my own cup. They’re talking about things I don’t know about, but they seem to.
“Yes, isn’t it?” Atom says as easily as he would about the weather as he adjusts and rests one arm across the back of the couch. He touches my hair at the back of my head in a way I doubt my grandfather can see, but it sends tingles through my body.
I wore it down, showing everyone here that I’m not the same woman who left this place five years ago. I might have the same name as when I left, but I’ve grown, and I’m still learning how to be different. Changed in a way that’s just for me and not for someone else.
Something Atom seems not to mind at all.
To my utter shock, Grandfather laughs at Atom’s words. My cup slips as I set it down on the table. Not enough to spill, though just loud enough to be obvious.
“You remind me of myself in my youth.”
“Young and good-looking?” Atom chirps.
“Cocky.”
