by Jill Jaynes
Leonie smiled back. “For true! Today it’s double great. I’m about to meet my brother for the first time.”
“Good on you. I hope you have a wonderful reunion.”
“Noriko!” A man bellowed. A force of nature, large and bearlike and wearing a pork-pie hat, thundered across the roadway on legs like telephone poles. He stopped right in front of her. “You’re Noriko, all right. You look like Pop. You know, Japanese-y.” He tipped his hat to the elderly lady in pink. “Ma’am! Isn’t this a glorious day? May I help you with your bags?”
Without waiting for either woman to answer, he picked up both of Leonie’s bags and stacked the elderly woman’s three bags on top. “My truck’s this way.” He strode on long legs back across the roadway into the parking lot and didn’t look back.
Leonie and the lady exchanged bemused looks, and Leonie burst out laughing. “It may take me some time to get used to my new brother. In the meantime, I think we should follow him before he drives off with our bags and leaves us stranded.”
Chapter 16
T-Jake had dropped the elderly lady, Miss Evelyn, at her house with her bags after persuading her to come for supper the next night. The cab of the truck was silent as he tore out of her driveway, hurling gravel every which way. Startled chickens launched themselves into the air, and Leonie hung on to the door handle for dear life.
But after they reached the county road, she asked T-Jake a tentative question. He made a surprisingly shy reply. Soon they were chatting about food and fun and the other usual topics of conversation she was accustomed to. She learned T-Jake worked as an orderly in a hospital and loved to fish in a creek behind his house.
T-Jake didn’t bring up Jake, so she had to. “What’s wrong with Jake? Why haven’t the doctors been able to help him?”
He glanced over at her. “The doctors don’t know what’s wrong. They done a lot of tests. They didn’t find nothing.”
Leonie frowned. Diagnosing some diseases required going beyond blood and urine tests. “Did you get him a second opinion?”
“Ain’t no other general doctors in town or anywheres nearby. We got a specialist in hearts and a specialist in feets, but his are fine, the doctors say.”
“Does he look sick? Does he feel bad?”
T-Jake rustled in a mess of junk by the gearshift, found a toothpick, and stuck it between his teeth. “He looks mighty pale. But he don’t go outside. I keep telling him and telling him it ain’t healthy to look at walls instead of trees and to walk on carpet instead of good healthy dirt and pine needles. He won’t take his shoes off neither except to go to bed.”
“Is he in pain?”
“He say he feel bad all over.”
“What do you think?”
“I think it mighty good you a traiteuse. You know the right prayers and the right herbs, and you his daughter besides. Maybe you can get him well and out of my damn house.”
She poked his upper arm. “T-Jake! What kind of son are you?”
“The kind that git fed up with people moping about and needing cooking for. You should just call me ‘Bro’ or ‘T.’ Too many ‘Jakes’ flying around elsewise.” T jerked the wheel, and they left the blacktop for a rutted dirt road.
“You can call me ‘Leonie.’”
“Leonie, we almost home now.”
She had expected T to live in a rusty double-wide sitting on cement blocks, with maybe some goats in the yard to keep the grass short. Instead, he pulled up in front of a white, recently painted center-hall cottage with a lawn in front and a white picket fence along the road. Fruit trees clustered on one side of the house, and a large, neat rectangular garden lay on the other side. Behind the house, a line of willows showed where the creek must run.
“I built it myself,” he said proudly. “Like it?”
“Yeah. I feel right at home already.”
“Well, don’t you be staying here forever like our daddy,” he said darkly. “He old, so he get cut some slack. You, I just kick your butt out when I get tired of it.”
“I promise my butt will behave.” She giggled.
He lowered his fierce eyebrows at her. “Don’t you be poking fun of me neither. I know you a college girl. But this my house, my rules.”
“Sorry, Bro. I’m nervous, and I’m worried about Jake.”
“Yeah. Me too.” He shut the truck off. “Go on in. I’ll bring your bags.”
She walked slowly to the house. The pine forest across the road made the air smell fresh, and many species of birds sang from all around. She didn’t recognize some of the songs, but that made sense. They were a little farther north here, and that little distance made a big difference in the things that mattered to birds, such as trees and landscape.
She climbed the steps to the stoop, pulled off her shoes and socks, and set them by the door. She wiggled her toes and rolled her head to get the kinks out from the flight. “Feets, don’t fail me now,” she muttered. She pulled the screen door open and went in.
Jake sat on the sofa, an unopened newspaper on his lap and a full mug of tea in front of him. “Noriko! You’re here.” The dull, even tone of his voice saddened her. They had never touched before. She took his hand and squeezed it, then hugged him quickly.
“Believe it, Jake. Father. I missed you. So have Puff and Slink. They want you home.”
He looked down at her hand but didn’t pull away. “The doctors didn’t make me well. Will you try?”
“Yes. Of course. I know several things that will make you feel better. Soon you’ll be up and around.” She touched the mug. As she suspected, it was cold. “First thing, I’ll make you a fresh cup of hot tea. Tea is good for everything. I’ll cut up a tomato for you too.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Her chest tightened, and her eyes squeezed half-shut. “I know.”
Traiteurs were supposed to treat, not diagnose. But Leonie couldn’t help thinking Jake was depressed. Maybe dehydrated and enervated as well from not eating or moving around.
T came in with her bags and set them side by side on the floor, bottom ends lined up like soldiers.
“T, could you fetch a fine ripe tomato from your garden for Jake?”
“Sure. There still some left on the vine that the heat ain’t overtook.”
“Thanks. I’m going to make Jake some fresh tea in the kitchen.” She held her brother’s gaze, and he nodded.
“Kitchen’s in there.” He jerked his thumb toward a door.
Leonie took her time with the tea, not only to make sure she made it just the way Jake liked it but also so she could talk to T. He arrived quickly from the garden, opening and shutting the kitchen screen door without a sound. He set two huge, purple-black tomatoes on the cabinet, and her mouth watered.
“One’s for you,” he whispered. “What you think about Pop?”
“He’s certainly not the man he was in California. Did the doctors ask you or him about his sleep, his appetite, or his interest in doing things?”
“No. They only interested in his blood and piss. Can you make him better?”
“I’ll try. Will you help me?”
“Sure thing.” He poked her in the upper arm as she had done to him. “Anything to get Pop out of my favorite spot on the sofa.”
Chapter 17
Leonie coaxed Jake to drink his tea and eat his tomato by telling him stories about customers and funny things Puff and Slink had done. He laughed a couple times and told a story of his own about Slink.
Then she insisted they go out onto the stoop for his treatment. Jake refused until T made it clear he would carry Jake out if he didn’t walk on his own.
Leonie settled Jake in a bright red metal lawn chair and pulled up a stool to sit next to him. “Jake, tell me how you’re feeling. Where do you hurt? What doesn’t feel right?”
“It’s hard to describe. At first, I felt bored. Not just my mind but my whole body. I know it doesn’t make sense for a leg or a finger to be bored, but that’s what it was like.”
/>
Leonie nodded. “I understand. Go on.”
“I didn’t want to do anything. I thought the feeling would pass but it just got worse. Then my body felt guilty and ashamed. I lost my appetite. It was as if my body thought I didn’t deserve food or drink or any other pleasure.”
“Do you have pain anywhere?”
“Not at first. But now I’m stiff and it hurts to move around.”
Common sense tells me what will make him better, but it’s my authority as a traiteuse and the rituals that will make him follow my advice. She stood, laid her hands on his head, prayed for several minutes, and then walked around him. She repeated the ritual two more times.
She sat on the stool.
“I feel better, but not back to my usual self.”
“There’s more. I’ve started things, but you must finish them. Listen. Each day, I will make special teas for you, and you must drink them. Each day, first thing in the morning, you must weed T-Jake’s garden for an hour. Each day, for an hour, you will either walk with me in the pines or go fishing in the creek with T-Jake. Do these things for seven days, and then I will repeat the ritual.”
Chapter 18
A month later, after getting five treatments, catching a lot of fish, and muscling up from daily weeding, Jake was back to the dignified, self-possessed man Leonie had met when she went to California. Leonie and T-Jake had become siblings in truth as well as in blood, and Miss Evelyn came over once a week to eat or play cards or just tell stories. Sometimes she brought friends, and T’s house would fill with music and laughter. Although Leonie had only a tiny room to sleep in, she was content and happy and in no hurry to make any decisions about her future. Her here and now was enough for a while.
But one Saturday morning, instead of going out to weed, Jake woke both Leonie and T up and insisted on a family meeting. He had them sit on the sofa while he stood before them, legs slightly spread and his hands clasped behind him.
“I have a great shame to confess,” he started.
“You don’t have to confess to us, Pop,” T said.
Leonie said, “That’s right.”
“I’m the father, so you two will sit still and listen.” Jake cleared his throat. “I understand now why I became sick. It was a punishment for being a bad father.
“As I got to know you both, I saw you had grown into honorable people with good characters, and I knew I had no part in it. Your mothers made you what you are.
“I was not a good man when I was young. Even the Navy couldn’t straighten me out. I was ashamed of being Japanese and tried to be the opposite of everything I thought a Japanese man was.
“Then my father—your grandfather—sent me to Japan to visit my aunts and uncles and cousins. I learned about my heritage and what it really meant to be Japanese.
“I came back to California a changed man. But I was too embarrassed to contact your mothers. My old Navy buddies who stayed around here sometimes told me about your lives. When your mothers died, I had a duty to step up as your father so you wouldn’t be orphans, even though I didn’t feel worthy.
“Now I want to go back to California, to my life and friends there. I want you both to come with me. I want to finally be the good father you deserve.
“Please tell me your answers tomorrow. I must go weed now.”
“Didn’t see that coming.” T chewed harder on his toothpick.
“What are you going to do, T?”
“What are you going to do?”
She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “This is tough. I want to stay here by you, but I also want to get to know my father at last. The weeks I spent here don’t really count; he wasn’t himself.”
“I know what you mean.” He picked lint from his pajama bottoms. “I haven’t used vacation time. I can take time off. I guess it the right thing to do.”
“Well, at least he gave us plenty of time to make a decision,” she joked lamely. “We don’t have to tell him until tomorrow. And you get an extra day of no weeding.”
He scowled at her. “Feeble. Real feeble. You plain shouldn’t be making jokes.”
David would have laughed. He would have even thought she was funny. Her stomach knotted, and she stared at her toes. I was so self-righteous. I sent him away, yet he still helped me find my family.
“Bro, I’m going with Jake to California. I really want you to come too.”
“Such short notice,” he grumbled. “Is it as great in sunny California as they say on TV?”
“Not at all. But Bikini Babes films in Moonlight Cove”—T perked up at the mention of his favorite show—“and we’ll be together. We’ll be a family. Does it matter what California is like?”
T grinned and spit out his toothpick. “Naw.”
Chapter 19
They had been back in Moonlight Cove for two weeks, and the cats were still showing displeasure at their having been gone. Leonie knelt on the wood floor, her knees getting tender despite her work jeans, cleaning the glass where one of the petits diables had peed on the display counter. Puff washed herself calmly in a pool of light by a window, and Leonie called to her, “Diable! You are one for true, even if you don’t have horns.”
Puff stopped washing in midstroke, her tongue still sticking out and her leg in the air. She gave Leonie a long, haughty look and then resumed her bath.
Leonie sighed. She had already put a thick layer of baking soda paste on the wood floor but didn’t know whether it could take out such a great stink. She could still smell cat pee, but she suspected it was her clothes she smelled, not another, undiscovered marking site. I should probably rinse my clothes out in the backyard. If I put them in the laundry, we may all smell like urine.
The chimes tinkled as the door opened. T had hated the chimes from the first moment. He thought they were too girly for a sophisticated store, thought they should be given to a toy store or a dress store, but Jake had over-ruled him. In fact, Jake liked nearly all of the changes she had made and was surprised and pleased she had increased profits so much. He had even told her how proud he was of her. The warmth in her heart she had felt then came back just as strong.
“Uh, hi.” The voice was familiar. “I came to check out your new stock.”
Leonie gasped, and her heart leapt into her throat. I’m wrong. I’m hearing what I want to hear. But her tingling skin and the growing warmth of her lips confirmed her original thought. Still facing the counter, she brushed baking soda off her knees and cat hairs off her work jeans and work shirt. She elbowed a strand of hair off her face.
She couldn’t delay her greeting any longer. She swung her legs under her, sat on her heels, and bowed. “Welcome.”
Two pairs of feet stood in the store, one small pair and one large pair, both wearing pink Hello Kitty flip-flops. She raised her eyes higher. Two pairs of blue shorts. Two white t-shirts with a Renaissance still life of flowers on them. One smiling face, one nervous face.
She looked at the little girl beside David, holding onto his hand tightly. “You must be Ysabel.”
“Yes.” She bowed stiffly, and Leonie’s heart melted that Ysabel had copied her greeting. The little girl had wavy brown hair like David’s. Two pink Hello Kitty barrettes held her hair back from falling in her face. “I’m Ysabel Lewys and this is my father, David Lewys. I am pleased to meet you.” She looked up at her father.
David smiled proudly and ruffled her hair with his free hand. “Good job.”
Ysabel’s face glowed with joy.
“I thought about everything you said. You were right,” David said quietly. “I now have temporary custody of Ysabel and hope for permanent soon. Maybe shared, but I hope full custody. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She licked her lips. “Are you still living in the attic?”
“No. The warehouse is zoned for mixed-use, so we’re living there. I built a couple of bedrooms and put in a kitchenette. My workspace is smaller, but it just means I don’t have to walk as far. It’s great. I’m very
happy there.” He looked down at Ysabel and smiled.
“My room has a window with two geraniums,” Ysabel said proudly. “My futon has Hello Kitty sheets and a Hello Kitty bedspread.”
“Sounds as if you have everything you need.”
Ysabel nodded.
“I see you like art like your papa.”
“I don’t have a papa. I have a daddy,” Ysabel said with great seriousness. “He likes modern art.” She scrunched her face. “I like the great masters. The picture on our t-shirts is Bouquet and it was painted by Broo… Bruh… Brueghel!”
“You made a great choice.” Clearly, David had been telling her about art, and the girl had wolfed it down.
Leonie looked down at her cleaning clothes and winced. What a day for David to show up! She stood anyway. “I have to thank you too. I have a family now because of you. It’s not only Jake and me. T-Jake is staying by us for a while.”
“I’m glad.” His warm smile confirmed that he truly was happy for her. His eyes took on the puppy-dog look she could not resist.
“I said some terrible things to you,” Leonie said. “I’m sorry. Jake helped me understand how you felt. I know you probably can never forgive me, but if one day you do”—her mouth was so dry she had to stop and swallow—“I wouldn’t mind picking up where we left off.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” David said. “Ysabel?” He winked at his daughter.
The girl dropped his hand, ran outside, and came back in holding a bag with two hands. She shoved it at Leonie. “Here! This is for you.”
The bag made a crinkling noise as she opened it. Inside was something soft and white. She pulled it out. It was a t-shirt. She unfolded it. It was a t-shirt of the painting Bouquet by Brueghel.
“Oh, sha!” She hugged the t-shirt to herself, then remembered she was covered in cat pee. She quickly tossed the t-shirt on the counter. Tears ran down her face. She tried to explain, to thank him, to say how happy she was to see him, but her nose was running so hard that her throat was clogged.
“Daddy, she doesn’t like it!”