“Wow, this is so nice.” She showed the card to Connor and hugged her grandmother. She looked up at Elder Packard. “Thanks, Grandpa.” The old man beamed.
Connor said to Wanda, “They had it delivered? So that’s what you had to go home to check about?”
“Among other things.”
Lynne and Glenn gave them a toaster oven. Martin’s present was an electric frying pan. The Kusanagis’ was a four-place table setting. “Ah,” said Elly, “I’m beginning to see a pattern here.”
“Not that I don’t enjoy eating dinner with you,” Wanda said. “But I imagine you want to share a meal alone from time to time.”
Connor handed the two remaining boxes to Elly. “For you.”
Melanie’s gift was a black cocktail dress. “Oh, Mel,” Elly exclaimed.
“You did say your wardrobe was a little scant.”
“Let’s see,” said June. Elly stood and held up the dress. June quipped, “That’s what you wear when you want to get Connor’s attention off his schoolwork.”
The last box, from Wanda, was an Allison Woods pantsuit. Wanda said, “Melanie was the one who picked it out.”
“Melanie has impeccable taste,” Elly said, with a grateful smile to her roommate. “Thanks, Aunt Wanda. I didn’t expect anything like this.”
They opened the cards next. The take came to a little over two hundred dollars. Her uncle pointed out, “At your reception in Japan, money is all you’ll be getting, and with the attendant commercial implications, especially if your dad has any plans of returning to his consulting work after his mission.”
Elly’s brow furrowed. “I’m not looking forward to that.”
With the last card, the open house pretty much came to an end. Elly escorted her grandparents to the door. Sister Packard said, “You can come up for church on Sunday, can’t you? We’ll have to show you off to the ward. Sacrament meeting is at nine.”
“We’ll be there,” Elly assured her.
Wanda left as well. She handed Connor the keys to the Camry. “I’ll get a ride home with Lynne,” she said. “You take your time.”
After most of the guests had left, Elly went looking for Melanie. She was alone on the back porch, arms folded, staring at the dark orchard.
“Hey, Mel,” Elly said softly. Melanie glanced over her shoulder at her. Elly asked, “Is something the matter?”
Melanie shook her head. Then she laughed to herself. “No, just a little envy, that’s all. I should be the one wearing the tsuno-kakushi.”
“Envy?”
“It’s my stupid, competitive nature. I wanted to be the first. I wanted to fall in love first. I wanted to get married first.”
“But you said so yourself: I’m hardly the role model for how to get married, even at BYU.”
“I said it for spite. After all, I’ve always been the one making the other girls jealous. It’s tough having the tables turned.”
Elly shook her head. “It’s true. I’m not a role model. I think of myself as more of a cautionary tale.” She put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “If you hadn’t been there when it counted, I would have fallen to pieces.”
Melanie laughed in self-reproach. “You sound a lot more grown up than me.”
“No, Mel, you’re my senpai, my senior. And that’s forever.”
They hugged for a long time. Melanie said, in a brighter voice, “You need a ride tomorrow, don’t you? Connor has to return his tux and we’ve got to get Fall semester ID stickers and books.”
“Sure. Thanks, Mel. I’ve got a staff meeting at two, so if we came over around noon—?”
“Who knows what the lines will be like at the Marriott Center. Better make it eleven-thirty.” A mischievous glint came to her eyes. “You will be up by eleven-thirty?”
“Mel—” Elly said, slapping her arm playfully.
Melanie clutched her roommate’s hand one last time. “See you, Elly.”
“See you, Mel.”
And then Elly was alone on the steps. She looked up at the night sky, at Sirius shining in the deepening blue. It was true, what she’d said before: getting married was easy. Leaving friends, leaving family—that was hard.
June was at work in the kitchen. Elly felt guilty, leaving her with such a mess to clean up. “Auntie—” Elly said in Japanese. Words failed her.
The older woman wrapped her niece in her arms. When they parted, her eyes were glistening as well. “Be happy, Elly. That’s the best way you can thank me.”
Elly bit her bottom lip and nodded. A tear tumbled down her cheek.
“Good heavens,” June said crossly, “Connor’s going to get the wrong idea.” Elly had to laugh. “That’s more like it,” said her aunt. “Now go get him and go home.”
Connor and Oh Sensei were in the garage, loading the folding tables and chairs into the back of the minivan. The professor said, “To speak briefly in defense of my big sister, exaggerating the more severe aspects of her personality is something of a family hobby. I’m sure you’ve heard all the soap opera plots about the awfulness of the wife/mother-in-law relationship in Japan. My parents lived with my father’s parents until Sayaka was six. I was two when we moved back to Osaka, so my knowledge is mostly secondhand. But our grandmother apparently lived up to all the stereotypes, made worse in my big sister’s eyes by Mother’s expressions of relief when we finally moved. Sayaka’s determination not to be caught in a similar situation had the ironic consequence of making her more like her grandmother than her mother.”
Oh Sensei shut the hatch. “Add to that the family birthright. You are aware of those two infamous scrolls Samataro Oh penned for his daughters?” Connor nodded, and he continued, “My big sister is a fine woman and a good mother, and she’s got a heritage to live up to. So my advice is this, and it’s pretty simple: give her the respect she’s due. Feel free to disagree with her. But never condescend to her. That applies to the daughter as well.”
Elly came into the garage from the front walk. “What applies to me?” “Your mother’s personality,” her uncle said.
“Was that a compliment to me or a threat to Connor?”
“Both.”
Elly tucked her arms around her husband’s waist. “Auntie says we
should go home.”
“Good idea,” said Oh Sensei. “And not to spoil your honeymoon, but
we’ve got a staff meeting tomorrow afternoon.”
He shooed them away and closed the garage door.
Chapter 33
Coming Home
T raffic was light on Eighth North as they drove east toward the gray wall of Mount Timpanogos. In the dark calm they both sighed. They’d set out twelve hours before as boyfriend and girlfriend (nominally), fiancé and fiancée (briefly), bride and groom (temporarily). They returned as husband and wife.
Connor pulled into the turn lane at 2200 North in Provo and waited for the light to change. “Didn’t your parents meet on their missions?”
“Mom transferred into his zone when Dad had only three months to go. He extended it to four, which usually isn’t allowed. Dad says the mission president let him stay a month longer because he was the only man Mom would listen to. Mom says he asked to stay a month longer because he was in love with her. I gather they were both right.”
“So your father had to wait for her. That’s a switch.”
“He enrolled in the semester abroad program so he could be in Japan when she got off her mission. When I was a little kid I thought that was so romantic. I still do. From what I’ve heard, he didn’t tell anybody about her. She came back with him at the end of the semester, and he said, ‘Here’s my fiancée.’ They got married a month later. It’s funny to think of your parents ever being as crazy and impulsive and in love as you.”
“Not as crazy as us.”
Elly laughed. “They actually had an engagement, except they didn’t tell anybody. I suppose they didn’t tell anybody because they thought people would object. Though I think people objected more because Mom and Dad
didn’t tell anybody.”
Wanda had left the garage door open. Connor parked the car and shut off the engine. He clicked the remote under the visor, switching on the overhead light. The creak and rattle of the closing door died away, and the interior of the car filled with a muted, gray light. They sat there in silence for a minute.
“Well,” Elly said, “I’m home.”
They got out of the car. Connor retrieved the toaster oven and frying pan from the back seat and Elly got her new outfits. Wanda was at the kitchen table, reading a book and sipping a cup of cocoa. She said, turning a page in the book, “Your parents sent you a wedding present. It’s downstairs.”
“Parents?” they both echoed.
“Connor’s. I’m afraid Lynne let it slip.”
Connor gave his wife a guilty look.
“What did they say?” Elly asked.
“Congratulations, of course. I told them you were going to Japan over Christmas. They said they hoped you would come to Maine in the spring. And they expect wedding pictures.” She glanced up from her book. “I’m pretty sure I heard my brother mumble something about wishing that all their children’s marriages went this easily.”
Elly pouted, “So you’re free and clear. No fair!”
Wanda got up and set her cup and saucer in the sink. “I’ll see you two sometime tomorrow. Good night.”
“G’night, Oba-chan,” Elly said.
The new table sat in the middle of their kitchen. The varnished oak gave the room—it’s freshly painted walls still bare—a welcome warmth. Connor placed the frying pan and toaster oven on the counter. Elly hung her dresses in the closet, turned around, and stopped in amazement.
“Connor!” she called out, “come see this. Your parents got us a new mattress set.” She sorted through the stack of linens perched on the bed. “Plus a set of sheets, a comforter, and two pillows.”
“A nice make too.”
“There’s a box taped to the card.” Elly peeled off the box and handed
it to Connor. He slit the cellophane tape and opened the lid. He smiled. “What?”
“Read the card first.”
She read: “Congratulations, Connor & Elaine. Wanda tells us that Elly
is a lovely girl. We wish you the best. Mom & Dad. The necklace was my mother’s. It’s about time I had a daughter-in-law to give it to.” Elly gave Connor a puzzled look. Connor stepped forward with the box. “See?” he said.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Are those real pearls?”
“I believe so. She’s told me that story before, now that I think about it, supposedly in case I needed to bribe a girl into marrying me.”
Elly held the choker in the palm of her hand, the snowy pearls glowing in the warm, incandescent light. “Here,” she said to Connor, handing him the choker. She lifted up her hair so he could fasten the necklace. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled the back of her neck.
A few minutes later, Elly said, her voice hoarse with ardor, “We’d better make the bed.”
They tucked in the mattress pad and the sheets. Connor retrieved the comforter from the kitchen table. They shook it out and glided it to rest on the bed. He said, “This is a lot easier with two people.”
“It ought to be a custom.”
Elly sat on the edge of the bed. The bed didn’t have a headboard—the wall served instead—so she fluffed the pillows into the right angle formed by the wall and mattress. She stretched out with her head on the pillow. “It’s a good bed,” she said, patting the comforter beside her.
Connor set the pillow next to its companion. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out next to her. “Especially the cinderblocks,” she added.
“It’s a solid foundation.”
She rolled over and pressed against his side. She could feel the beating of his heart, the warmth of his body radiating against her like summer sunlight. “How’s married life?”
He answered with a kiss, his hands slipping to her sides, over her hips, and like a ship steering through calm waters, leaving turbulent currents in its wake. By the time his hands sought harbor at the small of her back, she had abandoned any restraint or delicacy.
His lips trailed down to the hollow of her throat. She groaned with unabashed contentment. But she felt compelled to say, catching her breath, “I think we should finish getting ready for bed.”
They fell easily into the routines the dreams had taught them. Elly undressed and Connor went to the kitchen to brush his teeth. In the bathroom, Elly debated for a half-minute, then stripped off her undergarments and left them in the clothes hamper. For the first time in many years she thought of Becky Hoggan and that slide. She shook her head and had to smile. If she knew then what she knew now—but she couldn’t have known, could she? No one ever did.
Connor had left the marriage certificate on the bureau. Elly picked it up and lay on the bed. Connor came out of the bathroom and gave her a double-take. “I don’t think I’ve seen you wearing glasses before.”
“What do you think?” She tipped her head to the side and shot him a coy glance over the rims.
“You look like the sexy woman scientist in any James Bond film. You know, put horn-rimmed glasses and a lab coat on a fashion model and her IQ automatically shoots up fifty points.”
“What about a half-Japanese brunette?”
“Makes her a genius.” Connor got in beside her. She snuggled against his shoulder. He said, indicating the marriage certificate, “Your grandfather said they’d send us a fancier one.”
“Don’t you think this one has a particular air of bureaucratic authority? Though it really ought to have a big, red seal on it. There’s nothing more official looking than a document stamped by the proper Japanese government agency.”
“Can you get a marriage license in Japan if you’re already married?”
“If you want to get legally married in Japan, you have to record the marriage at city hall. Then you have the family register amended—that is, if the husband or wife is Japanese. Since the Oh family domicile is listed as Osaka, it’ll be easy. Mom will probably have all the paperwork ready when we get to Kobe.”
“All I know about family registers is that the wife’s record gets transferred to the husband’s koseki when they get married.”
“Not if the husband doesn’t have an active register,” Elly pointed out, “or if it’s a muko-iri marriage and the wife’s family adopts the husband into their line. Then he goes on the wife’s koseki.”
“That means your father is listed on the Oh koseki.”
“Yes. We all are. You don’t mind, do you? I mean, it’s more of a genealogy-type thing, since neither of us is a Japanese citizen. But then you can officially wear the Oh family crest. You did, you know.”
“I did?”
“In dreams. You wore it in our dreams.”
Chapter 34
Better than Dreams
E lly slid the certificate back into the envelope and returned it to the bureau, along with her glasses. She switched off the light, leaving the room lit only by the soft glow of the nightstand lamp, and climbed into bed and into Connor’s arms, absolutely sure of her place in the world for one of the few times in her life.
He nuzzled the nape of her neck. She undid the sash of her yukata. The traditional kimono is subtly designed to expose the back of the neck. Elly hadn’t believed that such a mundane part of her body could be so exquisitely stimulated. But those old kimono makers weren’t wrong.
“I love you,” he whispered, nipping gently at her earlobe “Yes,” she whispered back.
Connor’s hands slipped up her sides to her breasts. She gasped with
sheer delight. Unable to bear it any longer, she twisted around in his arms and opened her mouth against his. He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her until she tingled inside and out.
He lowered her trembling body on the green bed, within these beams of cedar, under these rafters of fir. Her breath hummed out of her throat in a l
eonine purr. I am my beloved’s and his desire is toward me. Lightning storms danced through her nerves. Her hunger for him surpassed anything she’d experienced before in her life.
He was breathing heavily when he once again looked into her eyes. She knew he saw in hers a wild and untamed countenance. He hovered over her. I rose up to open to my beloved; and my hands dropped with myrrh, and my fingers with sweet smelling myrrh, upon the handles of the lock.
She nodded and closed her eyes. A small cry escaped her as they came together. The concerned look on his face told her he must have seen the tears in her eyes. She kissed him, reassuring him with her body.
For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely. The dreams had communicated that strong sense of intimacy, of closeness and belonging. But had said nothing about the intensity, the heat, the sheer, raw intoxication of his physical presence.
She heard the keening of dolphins, the sound of the ocean. The world went white. She held him tightly in her arms, lest the universe shatter and they lose each other in the cataclysm.
“Elly—” he said. Tears tumbled down her cheeks. He swept them away and smoothed the hair from her brow.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I think that happens when I—” She kissed him and settled her head against the pillow, smiling until she felt her cheeks dimple. Every touch generated little sparks of pleasure, like blue static snapping off the fur of a contented cat. She was sure their bodies glowed in the dark.
She gazed into his eyes. “It’s much better than dreams.”
“Much better than dreams,” he agreed.
He pulled the covers around their shoulders. Elly nestled against his chest and closed her eyes. The world fell away. She floated on a warm and quiet sea. As she drifted into the embrace of sleep, a new understanding came to her—that he loved her completely, body and soul. And that was a wonderful thing indeed.
The room was dark when she awoke, the air crisp and cool. Elly retrieved her yukata from the foot of the bed and groped her way to the kitchen. She got the pitcher of mugi-cha from the refrigerator, filled a teacup and warmed it in the microwave, bringing her face close enough to the digital clock for her blurry eyes to read the time. Five in the morning. She drank the herbal tea slowly, letting the liquid warm her stomach.
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