Sujata Massey - Shimura Trouble

Over the phone from Tokyo, Hugh had said the way that things played out was sheer luck-that a hair band in a bath drain alone probably couldn’t have sent Jiro and Calvin to jail, and Michael, Kurt and I might have been charged with home invasion if Calvin and Jiro hadn’t so clearly attempted to murder us.

“I miss you, Rei, but I don’t miss all your high drama and danger,” Hugh had said at the end of our conversation. I’d hung up and thought about his comment. For me, events in the month had been remarkable; I’d come to believe that Hawaii was a place where miracles could, and did, happen. After all, my father had gotten better, and so had I. And, in my case, healing meant more than a recovery from poisoning; it was a recovery from chronic loneliness, the discovery that not only was I able to live with other people, I loved it. Taking care of my father, uncle and cousin had been the opening act; now I could commit myself to Michael with an open heart and confidence. And while I would probably always love Uncle Yosh and Courtney and the rest of the Hawaiian Shimura clan, I felt Edwin had learned something from knowing us, and I fully accepted my role in his particular tribe.

Edwin had finally made some money on an internet auction, and he’d undertaken a new job to keep himself busy: family wedding planner, although Aunt Margaret was the one who actually secured a sunset wedding on the hotel lawn, with just five days’ notice. Braden was dutifully filling out his application for the James School with the help of my father, Uncle Hiroshi and Tom, who all had a different take on the essay question ‘Tell Us about Yourself!”

Courtney and Uncle Yosh had been my shopping companions at every bridal boutique in Honolulu, and helped me decide on a long, bias-cut, creamy silk gown tinged with just a bit of yellow on the bottom. “Look like plumeria,” Uncle Yosh had said, and Courtney had promised to make both Michael and me wedding leis that were rich with my favorite Hawaiian flowers.

Michael returned to D.C. the day after Jiro and Calvin were arrested. That morning, he’d come Leeward one last time to ask my father, who was still in the hospital, permission to marry me. Of course, my father granted it, and Michael and I drove back to Waikiki to pick up his luggage and walk the Alai Wai Canal one last time.

“There’s something we need to talk about,” Michael said.

I shot a glance at him, because he sounded so sober. Surely he wasn’t changing his mind?

“The other night, you made a crack about there being some kind of James Bond attraction.”

“Yes, I did say that, although of course, I don’t really want to marry James Bond. I want to marry you.”

“When you rescued me in the garage, I told you I was getting out of the business. I mean to do it. No more spying.”

“Oh, well. At least I’ll have my memories.” I squeezed his hand.

“Actually, when I was meeting with my old friend at Pearl Harbor-I didn’t mention it before, but that lunch was more like a job interview.”

“Do you want to join the Navy again?” I felt something inside me drop. Sure, the Navy was safer work than OCI, but he’d be away from me for months at a time every year. It would be like being single again.

“I wouldn’t reactivate, no. But there’s a center for Pacific Rim intelligence based right here. The pay’s OK, and…well, we could live here, in Hawaii.”

“You’d want to live here?” He’d hinted at it before, and of course I loved Hawaii, but I hadn’t imagined it could ever happen. I was used to hardship and suffering, not the prospect of life on a tropical island.

“After I get Braden squared away at the James School and some projects are tied up at OCI, I’d love to come back. The sailing is unbelievable, and this mix of Asian and Western culture makes it the perfect place for us to raise children. They won’t be singled out for being half-anything; they’ll just be like everyone else.”

“I see your point,” I said slowly.

“And it’s not just for our kids; it’s the state itself. We’re halfway between Japan and the US, the perfect neutral ground for both of us. You can continue with OCI, and there’ll be no conflict of interest if I’m working for the federal government at Pearl Harbor.”

I imagined myself in Japan, overworked, alone and exhausted in OCI’s luxurious apartment in Hiroo. Then I flashed to myself queuing at Narita airport every second weekend for the flight that would take me to join Michael in the sun for two or three days at a time. I shook my head firmly. “No. Forget OCI; the only reason I kept my ties to that place was to be with you. I don’t want to live away from you, or have you worry about me. I don’t exactly know what I’ll wind up doing here, but jobs have a way of finding me, don’t you think?”

“Trouble has a way of finding you,” Michael had said, and then he kissed me, as if we were the only two people alongside the canal. By the time we’d broken apart, the ring that I’d thought he’d returned had transitioned from his pocket to my finger, and now all I had left to do was convince my fiancé that in Hawaii, not only brides wore white, but grooms too.

“WILL YOU COME to my wedding?” I asked Josiah Pierce, when I’d accepted his invitation to tea in the garden of his Tantalus home. I was flushed with joy, for now the pending marriage felt real, and I knew it was the right thing to do. My fear was gone.

It was the afternoon of the day after Michael had left for the mainland and, as if in protest, the weather was bad. The sky had opened right at the start of Mr. Pierce’s exhaustive garden tour, so we traversed the garden under the protection of a golf umbrella. Standing close to him, I wondered how I could ever have been afraid. His courtesy, and thoughtful attention to old manners, reminded me of my Japanese mentor, Mr. Ishida. Of course I would want Mr. Pierce at my wedding, where he could meet Mr. Ishida and the rest of the handful or so of very close Japanese friends and relatives who could come to Hawaii on short notice.

“What do you mean, wedding? Are you leaving the husband you have?” Josiah Pierce’s wry question brought me back to the present, and I remembered my long-ago fib.

“I’m not leaving Michael. I must to admit to you, with some embarrassment, that we’re marrying. For the first time.”

“You didn’t want me to know you lived together? My, you are an old-fashioned girl.”

“No, that wasn’t our situation. It’s actually a rather new romance. I’m sorry we weren’t honest at the start, when we met you. Michael thought…” I trailed off. It was impossible to explain.

“Well, I can only imagine that Michael said these things because he wanted the situation to be different. I think that’s an indication he’s likely to be a devoted husband.” Josiah Pierce sat down on an aged iron garden settee, and indicated that I should join him.

“I used to question whether I…whether I could commit to anyone,” I said. “But those fears are gone now. Permanently.”

“What changed for you then?”

“I credit it to spending time with my father, day in and out. I just got used to living with someone I cared about, and having more family around. And I think it’s better that way. You know, Michael and I are in the midst of deciding whether to permanently relocate here. It seems crazy to give up our past lives, but awfully tempting.”

“Yes, lots of people want to live in paradise, but when they really settle in, they get something we call Rock Fever-an insatiable desire to get off this island and go somewhere larger and more interesting.”

“Don’t you think we could make it here? We can’t help speaking with mainland accents, so maybe we’ll never escape being malihini.”