The Unquiet Heart

by Juliet McCarthy

  He paused, as if assessing the risk of what he was about to say. “I thought about you the whole time I was gone. When I called … It is not easy for me to say things I am feeling, especially on the telephone. Especially in English.” Kojiro broke off in embarrassment. “You see, even now how difficult it is for me.”

  Libby longed to take his hand but Kojiro would not have appreciated the gesture in the crowded coffee shop.

  “I had trouble sleeping,” he continued. “The dosojin would not give me any peace.” At the mention of the fertility gods, Libby smiled self-consciously, her body provoked by memories of Kojiro’s hands stroking her breasts, pressing on the plain of her stomach.

  Libby glanced at two middle-aged women sitting at the adjoining table and marveled at how surprised they would be if they had any inkling as to what was being said or, how shocked, if they could read her mind. Presumably they could not speak English, but that didn’t prevent them from eyeing Kojiro and Libby suspiciously. And indeed, they must make an exceptional couple, she thought. Not only because they were of a different race but because of their striking appearance — Kojiro tall and darkly handsome, Libby so blonde and fair. Until today, she had only thought of them in terms of their differences, never as a couple whose looks and personalities complemented one another.

  “Libby?” Kojiro took a sip of cold coffee and then pushed the cup aside. “I have to go to Sapporo on official business next Friday. I could take two days leave and spend the weekend … . The ice festival will be winding down but I thought, I wondered, if you would like to see it. The ice festival. It is very famous in Japan. You could meet me there, if it is possible to get leave … . If you wanted to, to meet me. I could make arrangements … .”

  Libby toyed with the tissue-thin napkin, trying to smooth the ruffled edge. If she agreed to meet Kojiro in Sapporo she would be committing herself to a man she did not really know, to a man, that for all he physically desired her, had never mentioned the word love or referred, even casually, to the future. It was as indiscreet as it was dangerous. It wasn’t like Libby to take unnecessary chances. Fighter pilots, for all their bravado, were not known for being either foolish or reckless. They were as cool and calculating on the ground as they were in the cockpit. Of course she should say no.

  “I’d love to see the festival, Kojiro,” she said. Her answer surprised her as much as it surprised Kojiro and she blushed in embarrassment. “I should know in a few days, if I can get away. The weather has been so uncooperative,” Libby stammered, “the inspection team may have to wait and come in the spring.”

  Kojiro smiled. “If that is the case, then I shall never again complain about the snow.”

  OUR courtship, that we tried to hide,

  Misleading is to none;

  And yet how could the neighbours guess,

  That I had yet begun

  To fancy any one?

  Nibu No Tadami

  Chapter Six

  The Operational Readiness Inspectors made it as far as Tokyo but the inclement weather in Northern Japan deterred them from traveling to Misawa. While they were boarding an airplane to return to Hawaii, Captain Libby Comerford was busy packing her bag for a weekend in Sapporo. She couldn’t decide what to take, as she would only be away for two nights. And she had no idea just what exactly those two nights would entail. Kojiro had called and said he had reserved her a room. Period. He did not say if he planned to share it with her. What would she do, if that were his intention? Why else had she agreed to go? That they would sleep together was implied but not mentioned in his invitation to the ice festival. That was what he wanted. It was what she wanted too, she tried to assure herself. But she was nervous and a little afraid. Libby was not a virgin but her sexual experience had been limited to her unrewarding and embarrassing fling with Charlie McKay when she was nineteen years old. She was a lot older now than she had been when she blithely surrendered her virginity in the backseat of that Chevy, but she wasn’t sure she was any wiser. If she were, she wouldn’t be preparing to spend the weekend with Kojiro Yoshida.

  “I don’t get it, Libby.” Charlie was stretched out on the sofa in Libby’s apartment, watching her put on her lipstick. “Why are you going to Sapporo by yourself? I’ve heard the ice festival isn’t all it’s cracked up to be and it’s almost over. The ice sculptures will be melted or demolished.”

  “They won’t be melted in this weather,” she laughed.

  “You can go to Hirosaki to the festival there. It’s closer.”

  “I am going to Sapporo.”

  Charlie got up and wandered into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and retrieved a can of coke. “If you want company, I don’t have anything on my agenda … . We could take the train through the Seikan Tunnel.” He popped open the lid and took a swallow. “I could do with a break. The long winters in Michinoku make me claustrophobic.”

  Charlie went and stood behind Libby, put his free hand on her shoulder and directed her attention to their reflection in the mirror. They looked so good together. It was inconceivable that anything could ever come between them. They were meant for each other.

  “What do you say, Libby? Just the two of us?”

  “I want to get away for a few days. By myself,” she added. But she didn’t sound very convincing.

  He was going to ask her if she was meeting someone; on second thought, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Since they had gone their separate ways, he had made a point not to pry into her personal life. He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  Libby bussed him playfully on the cheek. “I’ll only be gone two days,” she said. But there was something in the way she said it, a finality, that filled Charlie with dread.

  Kojiro was waiting for her at Chitose Airport when she disembarked from the plane. He looked different, she thought, eager and expectant, as if he had shed his earnestness and reserve along with all the official trappings of military officer and general’s aide. Libby’s heart accelerated at the sight of the tall, imposing figure, at the hope and the promise embodied in his smile of greeting.

  “I was afraid you would not come,” he said. “I was prepared to be disappointed.”

  “I said I would,” she laughed.

  “I worried you would change your mind. Women sometimes say one thing … ” Kojiro wiped his palms nervously on his trousers. “Sometimes a woman changes her mind.”

  “I wanted to come.”

  Libby desperately wanted Kojiro to touch her, to reassure her, but she knew it was too much to expect any physical demonstration of affection in such a public place.

  “I will take you to the hotel and you can drop off your bag before we go out. I hope you brought warm clothes,” he said, eyeing the small suitcase. He hesitated to pick it up, as if reluctant to set in motion the sequence of events that would change their lives. No matter what happened in the future, they both knew that nothing would ever be the same after this weekend.

  The hotel was on the outskirts of the sprawling city at the end of a subway line, in a quiet, residential neighborhood. While far from luxurious, it was clean and neat, and afforded all the amenities of a respectable establishment. Libby had her own room, on the second floor, two doors down from Kojiro’s. It had a single bed, a nightstand and a chest of drawers. The window overlooked a school playground.

  What if she had misunderstood his intentions, she wondered, as she unpacked her things. She wasn’t always adept at decoding Kojiro’s cryptic conversations or interpreting his silences. What if she had come to Sapporo intending to sleep with him and all Kojiro had in mind was showing her the sights?

  There was a knock on the door. “Libby?”

  She finished stuffing her lingerie in a drawer and opened the door. She didn’t know whether to invite Kojiro in or leave him standing in the hall. It was obvious he was on his way out and had stopped by to see i
f she was ready. His snow jacket was slung over his shoulder and he was carrying his boots.

  “I’ll just be a minute,” she said. “You can come in if you want.”

  Libby had not anticipated how awkward she would feel, or how shy, once she was alone with Kojiro in the hotel, but if he noticed the forced laughter, or nervous smiles, he didn’t let on. Perhaps he didn’t know her well enough to realize that she was not always as brave as she appeared or perhaps he was just too polite to mention it.

  Kojiro crossed the threshold into the little room and closed the door. “This is not what I had in mind,” he said, indicating the modest surroundings with a nod of his head. “Most of the hotels were booked because of the festival.”

  “It’s fine,” she said cheerfully. “I’ve always thought it extravagant to spend money on a hotel room when you’re only going to sleep … ”

  “It is out of the way,” he interrupted. “And … “ He was about to add, the owner is discreet. But it would have made their assignation sound sordid and cheap. He didn’t want her to have any regrets about joining him in Sapporo. “It is out of the way,” he repeated. “Not as crowded as the hotels downtown.”

  “I’m in the Air Force, have you forgotten? I’m used to Spartan quarters, and so are you,” she laughed. “I feel right at home.” Libby reached in the closet for an extra sweater and hand-knit scarf.

  Kojiro set his boots on the floor and sat down on the bed. He was wearing Levi’s with a knife-edge crease, a knit turtleneck and over that, a gray, rag wool sweater that accentuated his broad shoulders and long, lanky frame.

  “Do you remember the first time we met?” He asked.

  “How could I possibly forget? You were terrified to fly with me.”

  “Was it that obvious?”

  “Yes. It was,” Libby smiled. “I thought you were dreadful. Overbearing, arrogant, chauvinistic.”

  “I am afraid I am still all those things,” he said ruefully.

  “I know. I think you probably are too.”

  “You should not have come to Sapporo,” he said. He sounded so serious, Libby wasn’t sure whether his admonishment was intended as a warning or a joke. His attempts at humor were as ambiguous as they were infrequent.

  “I wouldn’t have missed this weekend for anything,” she said.

  Kojiro watched her as she raised her arms and struggled to pull the bulky sweater over her head. He could see her breasts straining against the silk blouse when she raised her arms. One of the buttons had come unfastened, revealing a glimpse of provocative flesh-colored lace.

  “Let me,” Kojiro said. He stood up, and with one deft stroke yanked the sweater completely off, tossed it on the bed, and took her in his arms.

  Libby was too startled to protest, even when he began fingering the buttons on her blouse, with the obvious objective of taking it off.

  “I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen,” he said, nuzzling her cheek.

  “Well you certainly didn’t act like it,” she laughed, in a light-hearted attempt to keep things from getting out of hand. It was too soon. She’d scarcely arrived in Sapporo. She wasn’t ready.

  But she was too late. As soon as he took her in his arms, Libby was lost. The years of caution and reserve as insubstantial against the onslaught of sudden passion as the flimsy fabric of her blouse.

  Kojiro unfastened the buttons slowly, deliberately, staring at the dusky nipples visible though the sheer lace. He reached out and touched one with his index finger and felt her shiver.

  “Let me look at you,” he said.

  “Now?” Libby asked shyly. It was the middle of the afternoon. The blinds were open and the waning sunlight cast long shadows into the corners of the room.

  “Now,” he said, as he reached over and slid the straps of the bra off her shoulders.

  Libby, embarrassed by his scrutiny, crossed her arms over her breasts.

  “They are beautiful,” he said. “Do not hide them. Not from me.”

  “But … ” Kojiro shook his head and Libby reluctantly uncovered her breasts and stood with her hands at her side and her head bowed. She could feel herself blushing, the tide of self-consciousness and desire washing over her.

  For the first time, in as long as she could remember, Libby felt proud of her body, of the shape and size of her breasts. And unashamed.

  Daylight was ebbing. In the distance she could see the lights of the city flickering in the early dusk. “Kojiro, Kojiro,” she whispered.

  Kojiro hadn’t gone into Libby’s room with the intention of making love to her. He wanted to take his time, savor every moment they had together, make this brief interlude last so that he could relive the weekend over and over again. But once she was in his arms and he felt her ardent response to every kiss, he lost all restraint. There was no coyness or pretense in her affections; she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  “The dosojin,” she murmured breathlessly. “Do you feel their presence?”

  “Hai. They followed you to Hokkaido,” he laughed. Kojiro had never felt such exhilaration or joy.

  They did not leave the hotel that night to go to the ice festival nor to eat dinner. Kojiro retrieved a bottle of soda from a vending machine and they quenched their considerable thirst from plastic cups. He ran the bath for her — something he had never done in his entire life for a woman — and when she emerged from the tub, wrapped her in a terrycloth robe, and carried her to the bed.

  “Don’t go,” she murmured worriedly, when he drew the covers up under her chin.

  “You need to sleep,” he said, as he leaned over and brushed her forehead with a kiss. “It has been an eventful day.” That was a quaint way of putting it, she thought. He made it sound like their tempestuous love-making was on par with an excursion to Tokyo Disneyland or a night at the ball park.

  She clasped his hand. “Please, Kojiro?”

  Libby guessed that he had reserved separate rooms for appearances sake or because he assumed she would want her privacy, but the thought of sleeping alone after they had made love was unbearable. He couldn’t just walk out of the room and leave her stranded in her single bed, now that they had become lovers.

  Kojiro turned off the light. “This is dangerous,” he said, discarding his clothes and crawling in next to her. “The bed is very narrow for two people.”

  “I want to fall asleep in your arms,” Libby said, as she traced her finger lazily across his smooth chest. She nestled up against him, tucking her head under his chin, entwining her long, shapely legs between his. “We just fit,” she giggled sleepily. “Don’t you agree, Kojiro?”

  “Perfectly,” he sighed.

  Kojiro did not anticipate getting much sleep in such crowded conditions. He was used to sleeping alone, on a roomy futon. So he was pleasantly surprised to wake up the next morning from a sound sleep, and see brilliant sunlight streaming under the slats in the blinds. Well, it had been an exhausting twenty-four hours, he thought, gazing at his drowsy companion, both physically and emotionally. No wonder they had both overslept. He shifted slightly, to try to make more room for Libby. She was on her side, wedged up against the wall. Her robe had come unfastened in the night and he could see her exposed breasts. Kojiro averted his eyes and tried to concentrate on her face.

  She looked younger in the abandonment of sleep. There was a girlish softness to her cheekbones, an innocence and vulnerability that was not apparent when she was awake. She was so clever and confident, it had not occurred to him how easily she could be hurt.

  Libby stirred and, opening her eyes, smiled shyly at Kojiro. She wasn’t surprised to see him there. After all, she had invited him to spend the night but she hadn’t considered what it would be like to wake up and have to face him in the morning. He was always so impeccably groomed. It was a little disconcerting to see
him with stubble on his chin and his hair mussed. Should she say good morning and try to ignore the fact that he was completely naked, ignore how warm and solid he felt next to her? Her knee was within a hair’s breadth of touching the most sensitive part of his body. She took a deep breath and tried to ease her leg out of the way. But the bed could barely accommodate one person, let alone two.

  “Ohayo gozaimasu, Libby-san,” he said.

  “Ohayo, gozaimasu, Kojiro. Did you sleep well?”

  “Hai.” He reached for his watch on the nightstand. “I overslept. Ah, we overslept,” he amended. Kojiro was not used to waking up with a woman in his bed and he was finding it extremely difficult trying to avoid staring at Libby’s breasts or ignore the fact that every time she shifted her body even the slightest, her leg brushed up against his thigh, provoking an instinctive and ungovernable response.

  “Kojiro, why are you looking at me like that? You look so worried … .” Libby reached over and cupped his chin in her hands. “Are you having second thoughts about my coming to Sapporo?” She asked.

  “Second thoughts?”

  “Are you sorry you invited me? Or wish I hadn’t come?”

  “Libby, how can you say such a thing. Sorry?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Yesterday was one of the most … ” He couldn’t think of the words — in Japanese or English — to describe how he felt about making love to Libby. “Yesterday, you made me so happy.” Kojiro took her hand and pressed it to his lips.

  “I was sure you would change your mind,” he said. “When I saw you get off the airplane, I could not believe what my eyes were seeing.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you, I wanted to come,” she whispered.

  Kojiro raised himself up on his elbow and gazed down at Libby. Her short hair was feathered out on the pillow, framing her face. He traced a finger across her brow and over her eyelids, along the profile of her nose, as if he were trying to commit every feature to memory. Libby’s lips were parted. He inserted the tip of his finger and felt her teeth graze the skin, and then her tongue.