Saying Goodbye, Part Two (Passports and Promises Book 1)

by Abigail Drake

  Hana let out a noise like a squawking crow as soon as she saw me. I may have made the same noise in reply. I backed out the door as quickly as I could, but I had to try several times to shut it. First, my backpack got caught on the doorknob. Then the paper from my flowers got stuck in the door. I let out a groan of pure frustration and embarrassment.

  “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry,” I said over and over again. When I finally managed to close it, I stood in front of the door, staring blankly at it as I tried to figure out what to do. I heard someone whistling down below on the street, and it sounded a lot like The Bonnie Banks O’Loch Lommond, the first song I’d ever learned on the recorder in third grade.

  I rolled my eyes. It had to be Thomas.

  The dorms were set up like a motel, a large block of rectangular grey buildings with doors that opened to an outside walkway. Ours was on the second floor, just above a path that led to the men’s dorms. I looked down and saw him walking past, completely oblivious to the cold and damp. He glanced up and grinned when he caught a glimpse of me leaning over the railing.

  “Sam. How are you?”

  “Not good. I...uh…can’t go into my room right now.”

  I kept my voice low so others wouldn’t hear it. Thomas couldn’t whisper to save his life.

  “Would you like to come and warm your toes at my place for a bit?” He tried to speak softly, but Thomas was loud. Always. Hana stuck her head out of the door.

  “God, Sam. I’m so sorry. We thought you were in class.”

  I waved her apology away, unable to make eye contact. “It’s fine. Really. I’m going to go and hang out with, uh, Thomas for a while. Continue. Carry on. Resume. Whatever. Bye.”

  Thomas grinned up from the sidewalk. “Hello, Hana. Enjoying yourself this evening, are you?”

  Hana hissed at him to be quiet and shut the door. I joined him on the sidewalk, and he looked up at the door to our apartment in surprise.

  “She doesn’t seem very happy for someone just given permission to resume and carry on and what not.”

  I grabbed his arm and pulled him down the sidewalk. A few people passing by had begun to stare at us. I thought it was probably better for Hana, and especially Dr. Eshima, if as few of our fellow students as possible knew about this.

  “You can’t ever be quiet, can you?”

  “I’m afraid not. My ma said I was born screaming and never stopped yelling since. I try to be quiet. Truly I do. It just isn’t in my nature.”

  I still had my arm hooked through his. I didn’t remove it. The drizzle had turned into an icy rain, and Thomas emitted more warmth than a space heater.

  “It’s probably better not to draw too much attention to Hana, okay?”

  He leaned close. “Because of who was with her? I have an idea about who that might be, and discretion is probably a very good idea.”

  I nodded. “Don’t say anything, okay?”

  “I won’t, but you didn’t have to bring me flowers, Sam. I would have let you come to my place anyway.”

  I rolled my eyes. “This,” I said, shaking the damp and wilting bouquet, “is my ikebana homework. Do you want to help me finish it?”

  “Of course,” he said, with a wink. “I’m an ikebana master. I have like a black belt in flower arranging. I have mad skills. Really. I do.”

  When we reached his place, Thomas took my wet coat and hung it on a hook near his door. His room, a bit more spacious than mine, had a small kitchen unit. Thomas set me up at a kotatsu, handed me a blanket, and went to the kitchen to make something for us to eat. The kotatsu, a low table with a heating unit underneath, provided much needed warmth on cold winter days in Japan. It was designed for a large blanket to fit between the removable hard surface of the table and the heating unit beneath. The blanket covered the bottom of the table completely, holding the warmth inside. Normally, people took a hot bath in a soaking tub, and then sat with their legs under the kotatsu to keep warm in the evening. It worked. With the blanket Thomas gave me around my shoulders, and my legs under the kotatsu, I felt warmer in minutes.

  I pulled the dish and frog out of my backpack and began organizing the flowers. If I didn’t get the arrangement put together soon, the delicate plum blossoms would wilt and everything would be ruined before I could photograph it and send it to my teacher. I set to work, cutting and laying out the stems as Thomas chatted from the kitchen.

  “Where’s Malcolm?” I asked. Thomas’ roommate came from Sydney, but had attended university at St. Andrews with Thomas. They’d known each other a long time.

  “He went out this evening with his friend, Kylie. She’s a girl he knew back home in Australia.”

  Thomas stood next to the counter, chopping something on a cutting board. I had to hold back a laugh. The counter hit him just below mid-thigh level. “You’re not built for Japanese kitchens, are you?”

  He shot a glance over his shoulder at me. “I’m not built for Japanese anything. Do you know how often I bang my noggin on these doorways? It’s ludicrous.”

  “Maybe it’ll finally knock some sense into you.” I pretended to be very focused on my ikebana, but had to struggle not to giggle at the expression on his face.

  “Cheeky girl,” he said. “And here I am, bent in half and slaving over a hot stove for you.”

  I bit my lip. “Sorry. You’re right.”

  He put a steaming bowl of fried rice in front of me, filled with veggies and shrimp. “No need to apologize. It’s my pleasure. It’s nice to have company. I hate to eat alone.”

  I took a bite and sighed. “Oh. Wow. This is good.”

  “I told you I had skills.”

  I tilted my head to one side and narrowed my eyes at him. “You said you had ikebana skills.”

  “Oh. I lied about that. I have no ikebana skills whatsoever, but I can cook. I learned how in China.”

  “I love Chinese food.”

  “Maybe we can go out to dinner sometime.” He mentioned it very casually, but I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea.

  “There is something I need to explain to you.”

  “It can’t be that you don’t like me. Everyone likes me, Sam. I’m extremely likable.”

  “Who told you that?”

  He thought about it a second. “No one. I just know.”

  I loved the way he said the word “know,” drawing out the vowel until it hovered in the air just for a second before slipping away. Knooooooow.

  “Well, you are extremely….likable, but I’m not looking for a relationship right now.”

  He shrugged. “Just because you aren’t looking doesn’t mean you won’t find one.”

  I blew out a breath. “You don’t understand.”

  He put his big, warm hand over mine. “Explain it to me. Is there someone else?”

  I pulled my hand out from under his. “There is someone, back home.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  “An ex-boyfriend. He’s sick. Very sick.” The hot rush of tears filled my eyes and it took me a minute to compose myself. “You’re really nice, but I just can’t…”

  “You don’t have to explain yourself any further. Eat your dinner, then I’ll help you with your flower arranging.”

  He didn’t try to manipulate me or make me feel guilty. He just accepted my explanation and moved on. “Thank you, Thomas.”

  He paused with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “For what?”

  I stared at my bowl, feeling a giant lump form in my throat. “For dinner. For being my friend. For understanding.”

  “Don’t be daft, Sam. Of course I’m your friend. I won’t push you, but if you ever want to talk, I’m also an expert listener.”

  I ticked off fingers. “Expert listener. Ikebana master. Extremely likeable. Great dancer. Gourmet cook. Is there anything you can’t do?”

  “Aye,” he said. “I can’t get you to go on a date with me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying.”

  He winked, and I knew he just teased. After dinner,
we cleaned the dishes, and then drank some tea as I worked on my ikebana arrangement and he studied for a quiz in his Japanese class. He’d taken a beginner level course, I was in advanced, but he knew far more kanji than I did because of his time in China. I helped quiz him on vocabulary as I worked, and before I knew it, my arrangement was finished and actually looked pretty good.

  “This might just be the very best one I’ve done.” I snapped photos of it from various angles with my cell phone and sent them to my teacher.

  “Now you know the key,” he said.

  I laughed. “No, I don’t. What’s the key?”

  “You were helping me study, so your attention wasn’t focused. Your mind wandered, and your hands just did what they had to do. It’s a very Zen sort of philosophy. Let go, and let it happen.”

  I had a feeling that might be the strategy he planned to employ with me. He figured if he let go, eventually, I’d change my mind and go out with him.

  I got a text from Hana saying she was alone in the apartment again. “Well, I guess I should go,” I said.

  We both sat with our feet under the kotatsu, our legs touching. I felt very cozy and warm and had no desire to go back out into the cold, but I knew I had to leave. I gathered my things together, but left one small branch of plum blossoms on the table.

  “Thanks for dinner, and for everything.”

  He leaned against the doorframe as I put on my shoes, holding the ikebana arrangement for me. “Tomorrow, we might go out to a karaoke bar. Malcolm said his friend Kylie is coming along, too. Would you like to join us?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Are you a good singer?”

  He handed me the flowers. “I’m bloody awful, but I’m loud.”

  “Okay then,” I said, turning away.

  “Wait, what does that mean?”

  I grinned at him over my shoulder. “It means I’ll come. This is something I really have to see.”

  When I got back to my room, Hana had thankfully put on some clothes. She waited for me by the door. “I owe you an explanation.”

  I put the ikebana arrangement on our kotatsu and sat down next to it. Hana joined me on the tatami floor of our room.

  “No, you don’t. It’s none of my business. Let’s just pretend it never happened, and I’ll try to wipe the image of both of you naked on the floor from my mind.” I closed my eyes and winced. “Nope. I still see it. Ugh.”

  “Sam. Stop it. I really want to explain. I’ve actually been dying to tell you for ages, but couldn’t.” She looked at the flower arrangement. “Wow. That’s really good. Did you do it yourself?”

  “Yes,” I said, frowning. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, your other arrangements have been a little…” She shook her head. “Never mind. This is a vast improvement.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “Sorry. Nothing is coming out right tonight. I just want you to know I’m so embarrassed about what happened.”

  “It’s cool. I’m really not upset. Just a little uncomfortable. And I don’t know how I’ll face Dr. Eshima tomorrow. I mean, I’ve seen him naked. Completely naked.”

  She giggled. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  I punched her in the arm. “When did this start?”

  She sighed. “Back in the States. He came here so we could be together, but it’s not exactly working out as planned.”

  “Why?”

  “His parents live in Osaka, and they are pretty old school. They don’t like the idea of Hiro dating a gaijin.” She let out a groan. “It’s so frustrating. To the Japanese, I’m a foreigner. To Americans, I’m Asian. I mean, on Hawaii it wasn’t so bad, but on the mainland or here it’s awful. I don’t fit in anywhere.”

  “How does Dr. Eshima…I mean Hiro feel about it?”

  She hugged her arms around her body, her dark hair falling like a black, silky waterfall over her shoulder. “He says he loves me and wants to be with me. He insists it doesn’t matter to him, but he’s been away too long. He’s their only son. He has certain responsibilities. It won’t be long before he wakes up and realizes he can’t be with me. It’ll make his parents miserable. I should probably end it now before he does, self-preservation and all that.”

  “Or maybe you could, uh, try before you give up and run away?”

  She gave me a sad little smile. “That, my friend, is the pot calling the kettle black.”

  I lay back on the floor and stared up at the ceiling. “Oh, my gosh. You’re right.”

  She put her head beside mine. “I’m glad to be able to talk with you about this.”

  “Me, too, but I just realized something.”

  “What?”

  “We’re lying on the exact spot on the floor where you just had sex with my kanji teacher.”

  Hana laughed, and all was well between us again, but I felt oddly restless. The conversation with Thomas, coming right after seeing Hana and Hiro in mid-coitus, left me yearning. Not for sex, but to connect with another person. Touch them. Hold them in my arms. Allow myself to be held. Those things seemed so simple to me before, but impossible right now.

  I sighed and stepped into the bathroom after Hana fell asleep so I could FaceTime my mom, something I did every single day. Although I knew what she would say, “No change, no improvement, be patient,” I still kept hoping today might be different. I waited for a conversation that carried some hope; one that allowed me to believe Dylan might get better. One that would let me move on with my life.

  As soon as my mom answered my call, I could tell. Dylan still hadn’t gotten better. Nothing had changed. Today was not that day.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I put on a black sparkly mini dress and black tights to wear to the karaoke bar, and then realized everything I’d brought with me to Japan was either black or gray.

  “It’s like I’m in mourning,” I said with a frown. “I used to wear actual colors.”

  “You look adorable. As always. But do you want to borrow something of mine?”

  I shook my head. “It’s fine. I just noticed it, that’s all.”

  Hana had decided to come with us. Hiro had gone to visit his parents for the evening, and she felt a little bleak. She needed cheering up, and a drink. I planned to help her with both.

  The wind howled and by the time we arrived, our cheeks glowed pink from the cold. Thomas still didn’t have a coat on, but he wore long sleeves.

  “It’s a touch nippy this evening, isn’t it?” he asked as we came through the door of the building, shivering. “But still quite lovely for the end of January.”

  Hana stared at Thomas as he rolled up his sleeves. We still hadn’t let go of our coats. “What is wrong with him?”

  “He’s impervious to cold. Just ignore him.”

  “I’m not dainty like the two of you.” He gave us a wink. “Hula Dancer and Sorority Girl.”

  “I don’t hula,” growled Hana.

  “But I bet you could if you tried,” he said.

  After a few drinks, it turned out he was right. Hana could do a mean hula. Eventually, I got up on the table and joined her. When Thomas tried his hand at it, we both nearly fell off, laughing.

  Thomas helped me down, lifting me off the table like I weighed nothing. Malcolm helped Hana. His friend Kylie clapped and cheered.

  With her flaming red curls and beautiful green eyes, Kylie had the kind of face and figure that got a lot of male attention. Although she looked close to us in age, she acted more mature and worldly somehow.

  We were sufficiently toasted by the time the singing started. The Japanese took karaoke very seriously. A large screen in the center of the room played a music video with the words to the songs scrolling across. English selections were somewhat limited, and most had videos that had absolutely nothing to do with the music. The Beatles seemed very popular, as did Elvis Presley. Thomas almost made me wet my pants when he attempted Jailhouse Rock, and I laughed until I cried when Hana got up to sing
Imagine. She didn’t know a video played behind her showing two Japanese people locked in a passionate, naked embrace. She glanced over her shoulder in the middle of the song, and must have realized it looked an awful lot like what I’d walked into last night. She turned, her eyes meeting mine and we both lost it. Completely. Thomas and Malcolm got up to help her with the last chorus, but she couldn’t do it. Every time she tried to sing, she’d look at the screen and burst out laughing.

  They finished the song for her, horribly and loudly, then Kylie and Hana pulled me up to the microphone with them. They chose It’s In His Kiss, and made me sing the lead part. They took back up, which involved a lot of “shoop, shoop,” but it was adorable and the perfect song for my voice.

  I knew I could sing. I’d had the lead role in our high school musical every single year, and had even sung at several weddings. Thomas didn’t realize this, however. His jaw dropped as soon as I started, which made me play it up even more. We danced and got into it, coordinating our movements. Thomas watched, transfixed, and I kept my gaze glued to his face, singing for him.

  When we finished, the entire bar exploded in applause. We really did sound pretty good, but most of the patrons just appreciated something semi-decent after Thomas nearly made their ears bleed. When I came off stage, he lifted me into his arms and swung me around.

  “You were holding out on me, Sam. You never told me you could sing.”

  He still held me high in the air. My hands rested on his shoulders, and I grinned down at him. “You don’t know all my secrets, Mr. MacGregor.”

  “But I want to,” he said softly, all teasing gone and his face full of longing. I bit my lip, not sure what to do. He gave me a sad smile and put me back down. When my toes hit the ground, I backed away from him. Every moment we spent together weakened my resolve. Hana had been completely right. Thomas was like crack for a boyfriend addict like me.