Levi had been really sweet on the drive to the hospital, trying to distract her, making small talk like everything was cool. No big deal. But she could tell he was rushing because his van’s tires squeaked around a few corners, and she noticed a few lights turn red before they left the intersection.
Maybe that was just his way of being. The more serious things got, the more relaxed he became. A way to balance the situation out. It had certainly helped balance out her erratic emotions.
Once they arrived, she thanked him and said she’d get a taxi back to the Hilton. However, he insisted on staying. But of course he had. There was just no getting rid of the guy. At that moment, however, Zoe found that she didn’t mind the company so much, knowing he was sticking around waiting for her.
The nurse paused at a privacy curtain pulled across a stall and peeked inside. “Mrs. Plum, your daughter is here.”
Too anxious to wait for an answer, Zoe grabbed the curtain and whipped it aside. When she saw her mother lying on the stretcher, it brought her up short.
Tucked under the stiff hospital blankets, her mother looked so small and helpless. Her cropped, graying hair was lifeless and unkempt, and she didn’t have a stitch of makeup on, which was why her swollen, black eye stood out stark against her pale skin.
Her mother had always seemed like some wound-up ball of energy, a force to be reckoned with, feisty, and full of life and sharp spirit. Seeing her this way was like seeing her for the first time in ten years, because she looked older than fifty-three.
After a stunned moment, Zoe rushed to her bedside. “Kaasan.”
“Zoe.” Her mother reached out for her hand.
She took it and squeezed tightly. Maybe it was just her imagination, but it felt like her mother’s hands had become smaller, frailer. She grabbed the plastic chair next to the bed and dragged it closer before sitting down.
“How are you feeling?” Zoe asked. “Are you all right?”
Junko waved away her daughter’s concern, like it wasn’t her idea to be there hooked up to various beeping monitors and whirring machines. “Daijoubu.”
Zoe frowned. “You’re not all right, Mom. You’re in the hospital. What happened?”
“Zoe.” Her eyes flicked meaningfully toward the nurse who was writing on a clipboard at the end of the bed. “Nihongo de.”
She gave her mom a look. “It’s fine. He’s the nurse. We can speak English.”
Her mother’s mouth pressed into a firm line. Gripping the stiff hospital sheet, she pulled it up to her chin like this could protect her from prying ears.
Zoe knew how prideful her mother was. As sad as it made Zoe to see her mother like this, her mother probably felt just as ashamed. Like it was her fault she was in there.
“Nihongo de.” Her mother widened her eyes intently.
“Okay,” Zoe replied in Japanese. “What happened?”
“I just had a little fall.”
“You fell? How?”
“I felt tired, is all. I must have tripped,” she said. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. I mean just look at this black eye.” Zoe touched a gentle thumb to the dark patch around her eye, and her mother flinched.
It was as though her mom thought she could hide what was going on, like the ambulance attendants who brought her there hadn’t caught on, like the tests they ran wouldn’t have told them everything. The IV dripping into her arm, the monitor displaying her vital signs, it was all just a precaution.
“Ever since dad passed away, you’ve had ailment after ailment,” Zoe said. “And last month, you locked yourself out of the house for five hours.”
She smiled at the mention of her late husband. “Your father kept me young.”
“Well, Dad’s not around anymore. You can’t keep going on like this. I’m worried about you.”
“It’s you I’m worried about.” She placed a hand on Zoe’s cheek. The nurse slipped out then, but she continued to speak in Japanese. “One day, I’m going to be gone, and you’ll be all alone. You’re well into your thirties.”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “I just turned thirty.”
“And unmarried,” she said like she didn’t hear. “Who is going to take care of you?”
“I can take care of myself. This is the twenty-first century. I don’t need a man.” She sat back in her seat, suddenly annoyed at having the same old conversation at a time like this. “And how did this become about me?”
Her mother picked up the spare blanket at the foot of the bed and began to fold it. Knowing her, she probably felt like a burden and wanted to be helpful to make up for it. “I had hoped that Sean was the one.”
“Well he wasn’t,” Zoe said.
“He almost was.”
“Almost? It’s not like there’s a fine line between showing up for your wedding day and leaving your bride at the altar. It’s pretty cut and dry.”
“Zoe.” Her mother fixed her with a hard stare. “I am your mother. You will listen to what I have to say.”
Zoe suddenly straightened in her chair. Conversations with her mother were usually so puzzling, a minefield of poorly masked guilt and jokes that weren’t really jokes. Yet today, she was being rather direct. Maybe it was because she was too tired to put on false pretense. Or maybe, Zoe worried, it was because her mother knew something about her health that she didn’t yet.
“I think it’s time we discussed the deal we made after your father died.”
Zoe blinked in confusion. “What deal?”
“You agreed that if you were still single by the time you turned thirty, you would consider letting me set you up.”
Zoe gaped at her mother. “You’re sitting in a hospital bed right now, and you want to set me up on a blind date?”
“Not at all.”
Zoe relaxed against the stiff plastic backrest.
“I was thinking more of an arranged marriage.”
“What?” Zoe laughed as though her mother was joking.
But her mother’s expression remained firm beneath the oxygen tube running into her nose. Zoe’s laugh petered off into a groan. Her heart sank as she realized that she had, in fact, made that promise—more or less.
It had been two weeks after her father’s death. Her mother was holed up in their home. Zoe recalled her mother’s subdued state. She’d seemed so lost without him, wandering restlessly around the house like she didn’t know what to do now that he was gone.
To see her like that, to see her alone, it stirred something in Zoe. Add that to her own sense of loss, of loneliness without her father, and the rejection that still stung from being left at the altar less than a year before, and Zoe felt crippled with fear. Fear that maybe she would end up alone, that she’d struggle through the rest of her life on her own.
She let that fear expose her, leave her vulnerable to her mother’s poking and prodding, her little lighthearted comments and jokes about being single—although Zoe understood her mother well enough to know she wasn’t really joking.
In the end, when her mother proposed an arranged marriage, the idea seemed to be the only thing to free her of the fear. If her prospects in life hadn’t improved by the age of thirty, then she was guaranteed to not end up isolated and destitute.
Of course, time heals all wounds, and Zoe soon forgot her promise. Forgot her terror of being alone. In fact, it became easier to trust in that loneliness. If she never found a man, she’d never be susceptible to abandonment, either by choice or by death. She couldn’t grieve what she never had. She could continue in a single life of status quo.
But her mother was the master of manipulation, taking advantage of situations, even laid out in a hospital bed. It was all out of love, of course. She was looking out for Zoe’s best interests, or rather, just her own version of it. Surely she didn’t expect for Zoe to make good on a promise she’d made five years ago.
“His name is Taichi Kimura,” her mother said.
Apparently she did expect it.
“Your aunt in Kyoto is very good friends with his mother. He is a celebrated architect. He went to university here in America and is now looking to move to San Francisco and start his own firm here. He has lots of potential a good wife could help him fulfill.”
Zoe ran her hands though her hair. Her mother actually had someone picked out. “Mom, arranged marriages are archaic.”
“They are still widely practiced,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Maybe in Japan.”
“You’re Japanese. Or am I so unwell that I’m hallucinating and you’re not my real daughter?” Her mother laughed.
Zoe didn’t find it very funny considering her current state. “I’m also half American.”
“And you’re also thirty,” her mother said. “And single.”
And there they’d come full circle. This was the kind of roundabout conversation she was used to having with her mother. She wanted to point out that in America, thirty wasn’t unusual to still be single. People were getting married later and later—she was the expert on that. But that excuse didn’t apply to her since she didn’t plan on marrying at all.
“Whatever happened to marrying for love?” she asked evasively.
“Love can grow in time. But you need a good partner if you want to build a strong foundation.”
“But you married Daddy for love. Weren’t you happy?”
“Very happy. And I got a wonderful daughter out of it. Most days,” she joked—sort of.
Zoe rolled her eyes.
“Give it some time,” her Mom said. “There’s something to be said about a man who you know will be there for you, will take care of you.”
“Ahh!” Zoe said suddenly. “Technically the deal was I would agree only if I couldn’t support myself by the time I was thirty. If my prospects and situation hadn’t improved from when Sean left me.”
Zoe very clearly remembered her promise had nothing to do with romance, with craving male company—it had been the last thing on her mind after Sean.
Her mother’s lips puckered thoughtfully. “And what is different about your life now compared to five years ago?”
Zoe took a breath, preparing to give her a long list of all the ways she’d become more self-sufficient, more financially stable, more independent. She had her own thriving business now, after all. Well, it was supposed to be thriving, but ever since the Fisher-Wells wedding, it had been going downhill. And the expo wasn’t really the hit she’d been hoping for.
Of course, there was always the home she was about to buy … when she’d replaced the fees she waived for the Fisher-Well’s wedding.
The silence seemed to drag out, the rhythmic beeping from her mother’s monitors marking the seconds that passed like a timer counting down. When she took too long to answer, her mother laid a hand on her arm.
“You’ve tried very hard,” she said. “But this marriage will be beneficial. You will see. Don’t think of it as a marriage. Think of it as a partnership. A business relationship.”
She was already talking as though it were a done deal. How did she always manage to turn these conversations around?
Zoe opened her mouth to say that she didn’t want either of those things. Not from Taichi Kimura. Not from anyone. But then the curtain swished open, interrupting them.
A woman in a lab coat stepped into the partitioned space. Her thick brown hair was piled on top of her head in a sloppy bun, glasses resting on the end of her nose as she read what Zoe assumed was her mother’s file.
She glanced up, her eyes landing on Zoe. “Oh, hello. You must be Junko’s daughter, the wedding planner we’ve heard so much about.”
Zoe eyed her mom, wondering just how much she’d told them. “Yes.” She held out a hand. “Zoe.”
The doctor shook it. “Dr. Neilson. Your mother said it would be all right if I update you on her condition. Would you mind just stepping outside with me for a moment?”
“Sure.” She looked at her mom before following, but she was averting her gaze.
Zoe met the doctor outside where nurses and physicians rushed from one curtain to the next, answering phones, and jotting notes in charts. Dr. Neilson found a quiet corner before turning to Zoe.
“So your mother had quite the fall outside her home this evening,” she said. “I guess a neighbor called the ambulance. We’re still in the process of doing tests, but I’m fairly certain the cause was due to a transient ischemic attack or a TIA.”
“What is that?”
“It’s like a miniature stroke, a temporary lack of blood flow to a part of the brain.”
Zoe swallowed hard. She thought her mother would stick around forever. Who else was supposed to guilt trip her about men? Something was really wrong with her mom. She had an actual diagnosis and everything. It felt far too real.
“A stroke?”
“With TIAs, the symptoms are usually temporary,” she said reassuringly. “So far, your mother’s symptoms have mostly resolved, but this is usually a warning sign of an impending stroke if no action is taken.”
Zoe wanted to grip her by the collar and yell, Well do something! “What happens now?”
“I’ve ordered a few more tests to determine the cause. I suspect it’s partially due to her high blood pressure, but her readings could be off because she seems fairly anxious with everything going on.”
“Yes, I’m sure she’s not that comfortable here.”
“I understand, but to get a better picture of what’s going on, I’d like her to stay in hospital over the weekend so we can keep an eye on her. It’s important to properly diagnose and treat her, but she seems rather resistant to the idea.” By the look on her face, Zoe knew she probably meant something more along the lines of “stubborn as a mule.”
Zoe cringed. “My mother can be pretty obstinate. She’s very private and doesn’t like to be a bother to anyone.”
“Well, if you can convince her to stay, that would be my recommendation.”
Zoe nodded, ready to strap her mother to the bed if needed. “Of course. I’ll try. Is there anything else I can do?”
“Well, there will be the long-term care to consider,” Dr. Neilson told her. “It’s important that she follows doctor’s orders, takes her medications, makes changes to her lifestyle, that sort of thing. While her symptoms will be fully resolved by the time she returns home, she may need a lot of support to help her during the changes. Does she live with anyone?”
“No. She’s lived alone ever since my father died.”
Dr. Neilson nodded and made a note in the file. “Once she’s at home, it would be a good idea if someone keeps a close eye on her.”
“I pop in regularly,” Zoe said. “Maybe a few times a week. Do you think I’ll need to stay with her for a while?”
The doctor seemed to consider this for a moment before making a vague sound. “It’s hard to say. If she’s independent and able to take care of herself, then I don’t see why you would have to. Every situation is different.”
Nurse Derrick approached then. “Sorry to interrupt, but the patient in bed five has returned from medical imaging, Dr. Neilson.”
She gave a curt nod. “Thank you.” She turned back to Zoe and closed her mother’s file. “For now, the best thing you can do while she’s recovering is ensure she remains as stress free as possible.”
“No stress,” Zoe assured her. “I can totally do that. Thank you.”
“We’ll be in touch. Excuse me,” she said, already moving away.
“Sure.”
Zoe returned to her mother’s bedside. When she slipped through the curtain, her mother’s eyes were closed, her breathing deep and slow as she napped. She must have been tired if she was able to sleep through all the racket in the emergency department.
As she took a seat in the cold plastic chair, she stared at her mother’s bruised face and felt a twinge of anxiety about the potential loss. The possibility that she could lose the last family she had felt too real in that moment.
That old fear of being alone crashed over her, and for a second, she thought that if she was hooked up to those same vital-sign monitors, alarm bells would be ringing. Her hand slid into her purse. The moment it wrapped around Darling Dolphin, the uneasiness washed away just as quickly as it had come on.
Her mother stirred, groaning as she shifted beneath the stiff hospital blankets.
Zoe leaned over her. “Kaasan. Daijoubu?”
“I’m okay.” She smiled sadly and held a hand to Zoe’s cheek. “I only worry about you, dear. If only I could rest knowing you’ll be okay when I’m gone.”
“Kaasan…”
“It’s okay. I won’t be around much longer to worry about you.” She closed her eyes, as though she was ready to cross over to Anoyo, the other world, right there and then.
Zoe rolled her eyes, ironically ready to strangle her mother who she knew was playing up her illness. Besides, if she really did pass on, she was certain her mother would forgo the forty-nine day journey to Anoyo just to remain a spirit here in Konoyo, the world of the living, to continue to pester Zoe about finding a man.
Stress free, the doctor had told her. Zoe gritted her teeth. If that was the only thing Zoe could do to help her mother, then she’d do it. Before she had time to think about what she was saying, she blurted out in English, “I’ll do it. I’ll go on a date with Kimura-san.”
Her mother’s eyes fluttered open. She searched for Zoe’s face, squinting as though she couldn’t quite see her from two feet away. “You’ll consider the arranged marriage?” she asked weakly.
Zoe took a deep breath. “Yes. I’ll consider the arranged marriage.”
“Oh, well, it means nothing to me, but if that’s what you wish,” her mother said offhandedly. She closed her eyes again and looked as though she were sleeping, but Zoe knew she was faking it because she could see a hint of a smile on her lips.
Annoyed, Zoe left before she began ripping those cords out of the wall at random. No stress. No stress. No stress. Instead it was Zoe who was stressed.
But as she headed back to the waiting room to find Levi, she knew her mom was right—but she would make the trip to Anoyo herself before she ever admitted it to her mother. If she allowed herself to think about it, really honestly think about it, she’d been lonely ever since her doxie, Buddy, died.
A Wedding Tail Page 9