Vanilla

by Guy Willard

  “You’ll do fine. In a couple of years you’ll be behind the desk in the admin office anyway. Just keep plugging on till then. After that you won’t have to worry about teaching anymore—just keep one eye on the books and take home your salary every month.”

  “And Seiko will be happy about the extra money, too.”

  “I’m sure she will. Fumio, what’s this I hear about your wanting to move out?”

  “Oh, that. It’s just a whim of Seiko’s. She keeps harping on needing to have more freedom.”

  “It seems to me that she has more than enough freedom as it is. We went to a lot of expense to remodel the second floor for the two of you. Moving out now is out of the question.”

  “Yes, sir, I realize that. It’s just...well, what can I give her as a reason?”

  “You don’t have to give her a reason. Just put your foot down. You’re the man of the house, aren’t you?”

  “Of course. But....”

  “Fumio, you really should keep a tighter rein on Seiko. If you let her have her way too much, she’ll run your life and do exactly as she chooses. That’s not a good way to start out your marriage. You have to let her know who’s in charge. Otherwise your household will lack its necessary center.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And her mother was telling me that Seiko came in at two-thirty in the morning the other night. That is unthinkable. You mustn’t let her run around at all hours of the night.”

  “Maybe it’s just the difference between our generations, but I feel that if she’s tied down too much, she’ll feel trapped. And since you won’t allow her to work, what is she to do with all her time? If I were in her shoes, I’d probably go nuts. That’s why I think she should be allowed to spread her wings a little.”

  “Don’t worry about Seiko’s welfare, Fumio. Just think of your own. Let her take care of herself.”

  “Father, I really think you should be less hard on her. She truly feels unloved. The other day she was complaining that you cherish me more than you do the daughter of your own flesh and blood. What a heartbreaking thing to hear her say. And it hurts me, too. That’s why I want to give her as much freedom as possible.”

  “But it’s true, Fumio. I do love you more than I love her. I can’t help it. I’ve always wanted a son, and was terribly disappointed when our first child was a girl. And as things turned out, we were never able to have another child, so ever since Seiko came of age, I began looking forward to the bridegroom she would someday bring into this male-less home. I wanted her husband to be somebody I myself could love and cherish. And in you I found the perfect one.”

  “But you mustn’t let it show so obviously. She’ll begin to suspect something. And you promised that once I moved in here, you would keep your feelings for me under control.”

  “I know. But it’s so hard, Fumi-chan, you don’t know how hard it is. I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried.” His tone of voice had become wheedling, and Fumio noted with alarm that the professor had reverted to the diminutive form of his name. “I lie in my futon night after night just below your bedroom and hear you walking around up there. But the hardest part for me is when it gets all quiet. I can’t help imagining what the two of you are doing in the silent dark. Sometimes I hear a gentle creaking sound, ugly in its furtive suggestiveness. I don’t want to be jealous of my own daughter but I can’t help it. You know I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you, and I always will. You’re in my heart all the time.”

  “Father, you promised....”

  The old man had slid forward on the tatami until their knees were almost touching. Fumio felt distinctively uncomfortable. He looked around. The family altar was directly behind him, its wood blackened from age and its portals open upon the memorial tablets of the professor’s ancestors. Every morning his mother-in-law struck the tiny devotional bell at exactly eight o’clock, pressing her palms together in prayer: Fumio could hear it from the room above. The odor of incense still lingered in the air, subtly cloying, lending an aromatic depth to the slight gloom.

  “Fumio, please don’t treat me so cruelly. You’re so cold nowadays. When we first met, you were so much nicer to me.”

  “But professor, it was my understanding that you wanted a nonke son-in-law. And for Seiko’s sake, I need to maintain my position in that regard. Otherwise, how can I get her pregnant with the child you want so much?”

  “You’re young and virile enough to have some left over for me as well. And you know it.” The professor moved in even closer.

  “Please, sir.” Fumio found himself sliding backwards. “How can you even contemplate such a thing, before your ancestors? What must they think of you?”

  “Why should I try to deceive them? They know me for what I am, and I can’t hide it. This is something I absolutely refuse to give up until the day I die. And I don’t care if I get condemned to all the fires of hell for it.”

  “Father, you should be ashamed.”

  “Fumi-chan. Don’t make me beg for it.” He reached out to touch his son-in-law’s chest.

  Fumio gripped Akiyoshi by the wrist. “All right, then. But will you...will you please stop treating Seiko so harshly, then? If you promise to let her live her life as she wishes, I’ll do as you ask. But only if you promise.”

  “All right, all right, I promise. You leave me with no choice, do you? From now on, I won’t say a word, no matter what she does.”

  “And how about our moving out to an apartment of our own?”

  “That, too.”

  “All right, sir, you’ve promised. Before your ancestors. And I’ll hold you to your word.”

  He let the older man lower the zipper of his sweat suit and pull it open in front, exposing his bare chest. Fumio felt the heat from his own skin against his face as his nipples tensed up from the sudden chill. The eyes of the older man were pinpoints of focused desire. His mouth was slightly open as he bent down to kiss a nipple. And then he began working his lips in a nibbling fashion. Despite himself, Fumio became aroused. Mastering his disgust, he turned his face aside as he felt his father’s hands caressing his chest.

  Carefully he leaned back until his body was resting against the wooden pillar beside the family altar. The ticking of the old-fashioned clock on the opposite wall was loud.

  Fumio’s penis grew erect, and the professor felt it, for he gripped it tightly through the sweat pants and began stroking it. To sweeten this bitter medicine Fumio imagined Seiko in bed with Tatsuya...and of how she must have felt as her lover’s firm muscular body had pressed against hers with all the overpowering confidence of a virile young male. How Fumio wished he could have been in her place, with her thighs clamped tightly around Tatsuya’s slender hips, and feeling the steady pistoning of his thick penis repeatedly plunging deep, deep into the very core of her being….

  There was a sound at the front door. The professor pulled away and quickly sat up, putting his kimono into order. Fumio, in a flash, had zipped up his sweat suit.

  The footsteps went upstairs where Seiko began calling for him.

  “I’m down here,” he shouted, a little out of breath.

  The footsteps came pounding down. The glass door to the hallway slid open with a loud bang. “Fumio-san, what are you doing down here? And in the dark?”

  A cough.

  “Father? Is that you?” She switched on the light.

  “Fumio-kun and I were just having a little talk. About you.”

  The professor was wiping at his mouth with a handkerchief, and in Fumio’s eyes he looked the very picture of a guilty little schoolboy just caught pulling a prank.

  “He asked me to give you more freedom, Seiko. And I must admit that maybe I’ve been a little too harsh on you. It must be the pressures of work; I’ve been so busy lately.”

  Seiko’s eyes grew big. She looked toward Fumio.

  His body was still trembling from his interrupted pleasure. Beneath his sweat suit, his nipples were aching slightly. “You finished your sho
pping a little early, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. So I took care of some other business while I was at it.” She looked a little out of breath herself.

  “Oh?”

  “I enrolled in that English conversation class we were talking about.”

  “That’s nice. Now you’ll have a chance to get out of the house every now and then, and do as you like. That is, with your father’s permission.” He turned toward the older man, who nodded curtly.

  “Yes, by all means,” said the professor. “Follow your heart’s desire, and enjoy yourself at it.”

  “Thank you, Father. I will.”

  The young couple glanced at each other with a secret look of complicity, all but laughing together in their private joy.

  33

  From the very next week, Seiko began regularly attending her English lessons. What her parents didn’t know was that she only had real classes once a week, while the other days were used as cover-ups for her time spent with Tatsuya. As promised, she kept Fumio closely informed about each of her dates with his friend. And though at first she was ashamed to go into much detail, eventually she was able to describe for him even her most intimate doings.

  While Fumio was genuinely excited about her deepening relationship with Tatsuya, he couldn’t deny that, as time passed, he was beginning to feel more and more jealous of her. Why should she so easily be able to enjoy what he could only fantasize about?

  There came a time, however, when he started to notice that her dates with Tatsuya were occurring less and less frequently—from three times a week, down to twice a week, and then finally only once a week. He refrained from commenting on this, gnawed as he was by his secret jealousy. But one night, as he and Seiko lay in their futons preparing to sleep, she said:

  “Fumio-san, I think Tatsuya is beginning to cool toward me. Maybe I’ve outlived the excitement I initially gave him.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I suspect he’s seeing another woman.”

  “What?” Fumio grew alarmed. “Do you have any proof?”

  “No. Only my feminine instincts.”

  Fumio saw the tears in her eyes despite her struggle not to let them show. It was no longer possible to deny it: Seiko was now as deeply in love with Tatsuya as he himself was. Perhaps this was what he’d unconsciously been hoping for from the very start.

  Seiko wiped at her eyes. “What shall I do?”

  “If you’re that worried about him, why don’t you give him a call? It might put your mind at rest. He’s probably still awake.”

  “Is it all right with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “The truth is, I’ve been dying to call him all day, but didn’t want to do anything behind your back...after everything you’ve permitted me.”

  “Don’t worry.” Fumio didn’t know if he was excited or jealous at the prospect of listening to his wife’s conversation with Tatsuya. “Do you know his number?”

  She nodded and reached for the phone, but hesitated before dialing.

  “Go ahead,” he said. “Dial.”

  She began dialing the number with a facility which showed how thoroughly she’d memorized it. As she waited for the line to connect, Fumio watched the expression on her face, noting with envy the subdued radiance of a young woman about to speak with the man she loves. Her hand was at the throat of her nightgown, pulling it together. Almost hidden by her hair was the faint pulse of a vein on her neck.

  Her face brightened. “Hello? Tatsuya? I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  Fumio tried to imagine Tatsuya’s reply at the other end.

  Seiko laughed in relief. “No, you don’t sound sleepy at all. It’s just that you took so long to answer. What were you thinking about when I called?” She tilted her head coquettishly as she listened to his answer. “Really? I was thinking about you, too. Who?” She glanced at Fumio. “Fumio-san? He’s still out drinking with some fellow teachers at his juku.”

  There was a long pause as Tatsuya said something, and Seiko looked straight at Fumio to indicate that he was still the subject of their conversation.

  She laughed. “Oh, no, of course not. I trust him completely. Though I suspect there is a certain young woman at the juku who might have caught his fancy.” She made a conspiratorial moue at Fumio.

  Fumio brought his ear close to the receiver, and Seiko let him listen in, pulling it away from her ear just enough for them both to hear. Fumio heard Tatsuya’s voice sounding tinny and remote: “What if he decides he wants to get a little more intimate with that girl?”

  “He would never do such a thing.”

  “Don’t count on it. The straightest-looking men are often the most dirty-minded. How do you know he doesn’t have fantasies and tastes which you can’t satisfy?”

  Seiko exchanged a knowing look with her husband. “I don’t care about what he does outside the home as long as I never find out about it.”

  “Well, you are quite the broad-minded one, aren’t you?”

  “I wish we could meet more often, Tatsu.”

  “Come on. Don’t go into that again. You know I want to see you more often, but if we overdo it, he might begin to suspect. And if he were to find out, I don’t know how I could face him. He is my best friend, after all.”

  “I think maybe it’s just because you’re his best friend that I don’t feel so guilty about it. As if he wouldn’t mind so much....”

  Tatsuya gave a little laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. You have no idea how a man feels about his wife cheating on him…and it doesn’t matter with whom.”

  “Still, I just wish I could spend some more time with you. I’d even slip out of the house right now if you’d like to meet.” Seiko looked at Fumio, and instinctively he reached out his hand and clasped hers, giving her his approval.

  But Tatsuya just laughed. “That’s impossible. What’s he going to say when he sees you gone? Admit it, it’s the danger of being caught that gives you your biggest thrill, right? I love the guilty look you get on your face each time I mention your beloved husband’s name.”

  Seiko flushed, but Fumio squeezed her hand to reassure her. He wanted to hear more because he was a little puzzled by the coldness on Tatsuya’s part. Surely there should have been a little more affection in his voice, even if it was only play-acted.

  “Tatsuya.” Seiko suddenly stiffened and pressed the receiver to her ear, almost pushing Fumio away. “Is someone else there with you?”

  “Here? Of course not. I’m all alone. Who else could there be?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “Come on, now you’re getting paranoid. After all the dangers I’ve risked in seeing you, and the ways I’ve shown how much I care for you, how can you accuse me of such a thing? I hate to say it, but you’re starting to sound just like the typically jealous girlfriend.”

  “You’d know about that, wouldn’t you?”

  Tatsuya sighed audibly. “You know, you disappoint me. You were so worldly at the start of this that I thought you were the perfect woman for me. But now that you’re finally showing your true colors, it looks like you’re a normal woman after all, just another neglected housewife having her little affair on the side.”

  Fumio saw that Seiko was ready to burst into tears. He put his finger to his lips, begging her with his eyes to calm down. She did.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to Tatsuya. “Maybe it was just my imagination.”

  Fumio couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation for he’d pulled away in fear that Tatsuya might suspect his own presence here. Lying in his futon, he gazed vacantly at the ceiling. After Seiko had hung up, he said, “Why did you say that to him?”

  “I don’t know. I just suddenly sensed someone else at the other end. And another thing: he never once mentioned my name over the line. I notice things like that.”

  “It seems like pretty flimsy evidence to me. And besides, if there was a woman with him, she would have known from his end of the conversatio
n that he was talking with a girlfriend.”

  “That’s true....” She still didn’t seem convinced, however.

  Fumio shook his head. “Maybe he’s right; you are getting paranoid. You’ve become so infatuated with him that you’re starting to imagine things.”

  “I don’t know….” She blinked her eyes rapidly a few times. “It’s just that I get so worried sometimes. The things you told me about him, his promiscuity, his eagerness to try anything new…. There’s no guarantee that I can keep his interest for very much longer. In fact, what exactly do I have to offer him? There are so many other women out there—younger than me, prettier than me—who would be more than glad to take my place.”

  Fumio had nothing to say to this, yet the sympathy he felt for Seiko was strangely mingled with a sort of happy expectation.

  She suddenly clenched her hands into fists. “Fumio-san, I feel so afraid of losing him. I know you must think I’m terrible, but I can’t hide it from you anymore: I would do anything to keep him. If he is with another woman now, it would just kill me.”

  “I understand. And believe me, if he was seeing another woman, I’d be just as upset as you.”

  She lowered her face in shame. “Right now, if he were to tell me that he wanted to leave me, I’d be willing to give up everything I have just to get him back, and I’m worried. This all started out as an amusing game, but things have become much more serious than we ever imagined. Please believe me.”

  “I suppose we were naïve to think that you and Tatsuya could just remain sex friends.”

  She fell silent. Then, with a whimper of agony, she turned to him with a deadly serious look in her eyes. “Fumio-san, please help me win him back.”

  He stared at her. Technically it was she who was in the wrong, and yet here she was, begging her own husband to win back her straying lover. Only Tatsuya could do this to a married couple, he thought.

  “Don’t worry, Seiko. I’m sure things will turn out all right.” He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. “Let’s go to sleep for now.”