Arima (Haruki Arima Duet, #2)

by Laine Watson

  “Oh, yeah. Let me finish cleaning up.”

  “Okay, I’ll go get Max.”

  “Okay.”

  He walks over to me and kisses me sweetly, then heads upstairs. A few moments pass before my mother walks into the kitchen.

  I am folding a hand towel.

  “So, you bought yourself a new car?” she says, as she meets me at the counter and leans on it.

  “I did. I made Haru get rid of that crazy expensive car. It freed up some college money for Max.” I laugh.

  My mother smiles. “He’s an idiot, huh?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “You did all this just to prove a point?”

  “Mom, no. For so long, I didn’t know what I wanted in life. I guess I wanted a kid and a career. You know, be superwoman. Like you.” I grin affectionately.

  My mother’s shoulders fall. Her eyes almost seem wet.

  “Well, I’m sorry I kissed him. You were right: I was a bit jealous. He is a very handsome man. I wanted to prove he wasn’t worth a damn, but I guess I wagered wrong.”

  “What? You, admitting to being wrong?”

  “I didn’t say I was wrong. I wagered wrong. There’s a difference.”

  “Oh, okay. I get it.” I laugh a little at my mother’s apparent vulnerability. “Have you missed me, Mom?”

  “I miss your meals.” She laughs, stiffly. “I miss having someone at the office doing nothing. So, I suppose.”

  I smile. “Mom, I’m not trying to be defiant or anything. I love my life. I love Haru and Max so much. School is great, and I help kids. I’m training to be a counselor at the high school when I graduate.”

  “Well, I guess you didn’t need me to grow up, did you? Maybe I was the one keeping you from doing so.” My mother sniffles and sounds even more vulnerable.

  “I don’t think that’s it, Mom. I think I just did it on my time.”

  My mother sighs, gathering her wits. “Well, looks like you’re doing a great—”

  “Hey! Look at this, Mom.” Max runs up to me.

  “What is it?” I take a toy fixture from him.

  “It’s engineering,” Haru says as he follows me out of the kitchen, trying to reach for the fixture. My mother follows us to the living room. Haru, his parents, and Darby all join us.

  “Look, you only have to move this one,” Max says, “and all the wheels turn.”

  “Okay.” I turn the handle, and all the gears on the green platform turn. “Oh, that’s cool! You made this?”

  “Yeah!” Max says, enthusiastically.

  I continue to spin it and watch all the different gears moving. From the middle of one of them, something emerges. It pops up so fast, I only get a glimpse of it. “Oops!” I giggle, and another two objects pops right out and onto the floor. I stop turning the handle and bend down to pick up the fallen items.

  Rings? I hesitate to pick them up.

  Haru and Max bend on one knee. Haru picks up one ring, and Max picks up the other. Max smiles while Haru has a very serious look on his face. My heart beats fast as I rise to my feet. I stare around the room, smiling at all the twinkles in everyone’s eyes, except my mother’s. Everyone knew except me?

  “Oh, my God! They’re going to do it!” Darby says, and then covers her mouth to contain her excitement.

  “Summer,” Haru says, looking up at me. “I love you like I never thought I’d love anyone.” He takes my hand. “Will you marry me?”

  An excited moan comes from my lips.

  “Summer?” Max smiles so big. “Can you be my mommy some more?”

  I glance over to notice my mother shifting on the sofa uncomfortably. I can’t focus on that. My chest becomes hollow, and tears fall uncontrollably from my eyes. I cannot speak ... I cannot think. I glance around the room, panting. Everyone is waiting for me to answer.

  “Summer,” Haru calls. “You have to answer.”

  But I can’t; I’m still in shock. I look toward my mom.

  “Summer,” my mother says, “what’s your answer?”

  With my vocal cords finally free of anxiousness, I belt out, “Yes!” I lower my voice to a normal volume. “Yes, to both of you.”

  “Yay!” Max hugs me.

  “Awesome.” Haru rises to his feet and puts the beautiful platinum diamond ring on my finger. Max puts his ring on my middle finger. I wipe my tears with my fingers, and Haru’s mother brings me a handkerchief as Haru kisses me and wipes some of my tears away.

  I laugh. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right, sweetie,” she whispers and leans into me. “I never saw this day coming. So, kudos to you. You’re very special.”

  My mother’s sigh falls over the room.

  I dart my eyes toward her and catch the bitter end of her eye roll. What is wrong with her?

  I glance at Haru and then back at my mother, her facial expression is more complacent. “You know, Max, if Summer is your mom, then that means I’ll be your grandma.”

  She’s being weird, I sigh anxiously, shifting my feet on the hardwood.

  “Really? Sweet! I’ll have two!” Max hugs my mom. “I never had two. I had one with my other mommy, and then I had one with Dad, but now I have a mommy and a daddy and two grandmas! Sweet!”

  “Congratulations, son.” Haru’s father gleams.

  “Thanks Dad.” Haru leaves my side to hug both his mother and his father.

  “Well, we’ll get out of your hair.” Darby says as she and Haru’s parents disappear into the kitchen. My mother didn’t make a move.

  I can hear Darby chatting with Haru’s parents in the kitchen as he approaches me with an endearing stare in his eyes. “Stop crying. You had to have known this was coming,” he says, proudly. A boyish smile crosses his lips as he cradles my elbows, inching me nearer to him.

  “No, I didn’t. Why did you—”

  “Because, Summer, no one else will ever be with you. No one else will ever have that chance. I want you to be mine. I’ve been throwing the idea around for a while now. I can’t live any other way. Now that we have you, I won’t.”

  “Well, isn’t that great?” My mother smiles, acidly.

  Haru turns to face her.

  “Max.” he calls.

  “Go upstairs.”

  The sound of Haru’s voice is deep and authoritative.

  “Okay.” Max says and runs up the stairs.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight as I turn to her intensely. “What?” She was just happy.

  “You almost had me fooled for a moment.” She grabs her things and glances at her phone. “This little charade of yours—I’ve had enough of it.”

  “Charade?” I arch my neck, insulted.

  “You set up this little ‘dinner’ to prove a point? You barely know him.”

  “I told you I didn’t.”

  “I don’t care what you do, Summer. You’re an adult. You found someone else to take care of you—so, go ahead. You don’t have to force fake success stories down my throat or have pretend proposals or whatever the hell this is. It’s pathetic.”

  “Mom? I—I—we just talked about it. I’m doing things for myself. We’re a family.”

  She huffs, stomping toward the door.

  I reach out for her, my heart falling to the floor. She slams the door behind her as she leaves. The silence in the room is heavy. A beautiful moment destroyed, and for what reason? One, I don’t understand.

  “I didn’t pretend, Summer,” Max says, standing in the middle of the staircase, confused.

  “Max,” I agonize.

  “Hey, buddy, it’s fine.” Haru rushes to him as he walks down the stairs. He bends down in front of Max on one knee. “Summer knows we love her, and she’s going to be your mommy forever.”

  “But what about my new grandma?”

  “She’s surprised. People take surprises differently. It’s fine,” he reiterates.

  “Oh,” Max accepts.

  I notice Haru’s mother standing at the edge of the
kitchen staring right at us.

  Haru’s facial expression is distraught and pained. He glances at his mother. “We’re leaving.”

  Chapter Seven: The Man In Between

  It’s been a few days. Haru and I really haven’t talked about the engagement or my mother’s behavior. Darby’s back at home. In the back of my mind, I contemplate calling my mother.

  There’s not much to do since Haru and Hayden finished unpacking all the big stuff. I’m stuck at home on a Saturday afternoon, alone, going through boxes in the miscellaneous bedroom with no one to talk to, only my thoughts to keep me company.

  My mother said something I can’t stop thinking about either: “You barely know him.” I shouldn’t worry about what kind of girl Haru was having mindless, amazing sex with, but I want to know. Am I his ideal type?

  I hold a few miscellaneous home décor items in my hand and glance out of the white slats covering the long window. I don’t need to be worried about that. I need to worry about convincing my mom Haru and I love each other. Maybe I just need to explain things. He blindsided her—hell, he blindsided me. It does seem unbelievable.

  My wrists drop, and the décor falls back into the box on the floor. I hurriedly sway into the living room and snatch my phone off the end table, quickly dialing my mother’s number. I ease myself down on the sofa, anxiously awaiting to hear my mother’s voice.

  I’ll just tell her I was surprised too—even though I sort of already tried to tell her that. Maybe since we’ve had a few days to calm down and it’s just us on the phone, I’ll be able to get through to her.

  My toes twitch and so do my knees. I’ll ask her to help me plan the wedding, then she’ll see what Haru and I have is real, I contemplate, instilling a bit more hope inside of me.

  “Hello,” my mother answers.

  “Mom.” I sigh with a smile, perking back up.

  “Call to tell me the truth?”

  “U—uh, yeah... Actually.”

  “Good then. I knew you were smarter than this.”

  “Well...”

  “If you need me to come and get you, I will. You never have to lie to me or—”

  “Mom,” I cut her off, confusion settling on my face. “I’m calling to ask you if you’d like to help me plan the wedding. I don’t really know anything about weddings. Or anything about what I need or where to even start. I thought it would be good for us to do this together. You could see Max more, and be around me and Haru. E—”

  “What?” My mother spits out. The revulsion and irritation in her surly voice cripples me as I slump over on the sofa, my feet spread apart. My knees cave in against each other. “I—”

  A weighty, contemptuous laugh streams from her so effortlessly.

  My eyes lower to the square area rug under the coffee table. I focus on the beautiful wine-colored flowers and navy blue accents against the neutral background. I bat my eyes slowly, a sick sensation in my stomach.

  “You’re still going through with this?” she grumbles and adds a lengthy sigh. “You’re working my nerves, Summer. Do not call here with that bullshit.”

  “Mom...”

  “Summer! Even if it is real—it might be to you, but there is no way it is to him—this man has lived a life before he ever even met you. Men like him only deal with women who have something to offer. What could you possibly offer to a man like Mr. Arima?”

  “I have a lot to offer, and you’d know that if you’d just listen. Come and hangout with us, see how we spend each day. Max would love it. I would love it.” Hope fills my heart. These are the right words to say. She’ll understand. She’ll get it, and even if she doesn’t, maybe she’ll try to find out—give us a chance.

  “I don’t want to see shit! I’d rather not watch my daughter be used by a man almost ten years older than her.”

  “He’s not using me. And he’s only six or seven years older than me.”

  “Goodbye, Summer.”

  “Mo—” I try to explain but the call ends.

  My eyes burn with the threat of heavy flowing tears. I shake out the desire to cry with a pensive sigh and fall back on the sofa. A hopeless sigh slides past my lips. I gaze into the TV above the closed-in fireplace. My ankles twist in circles, small bones cracking back into place as I do.

  What am I going to do? She isn’t even willing to listen. Why does she think this is such a joke? I search my mind for an explanation to ease my breaking heart. My lips part. I sink further into the couch cushions.

  I wonder if my mother’s irrational behavior is spiked because she’s truly concerned this is all a lie or if she’s simple angry that I get to be happy.

  Or is my mother right? Do I know Haru well enough to know he loves me without a doubt? Or are there things I need to investigate further? There are parts of his life he doesn’t always want to share with me. I’d like to know about his transition into manhood. Who was Haru? Not that sweet-eyed boy from college or the man I know now—but the man in between.

  Chapter Eight: Your Kind of Girl

  It’s been a few days since my chat with my mom. After the initial devastation, other thoughts have moved to the forefront of my mind.

  Max’s mom—was she just one of a number of conquests?

  It’s not like I want Haru to tell me his body count. I don’t think I could handle that. I just want to know what kind of women he prefers, and where I stand up against that ideal.

  Was she the kind of girl he was into? Before I can agonize any further, the front door opens. I dart into the living room. Haru is walking in the house with his phone out.

  “Hey, are you having fun with your sofubo?” he asks.

  “It’s okay.” Max complains. “They won’t let me go outside by myself.”

  “So-fu-ba?” I ask.

  “Grandparents—sofubo.” Haru glances up at me from the video chat, kissing me on my lips after he takes his shoes off.

  “Mom!” Max says from Haru’s phone screen.

  “Hi, buddy! I miss you so much!” I gleam.

  “I miss you too. I want to come home. I don’t want to stay the weekends here anymore.”

  “We’re almost done unpacking everything,” Haru says, “We just need to get your room and the upstairs guestroom done.”

  “I can help,” Max says.

  I glance at Haru with a pouty face.

  “When are we going to have crazy sex, if he stays on the weekends?” Haru whispers to me.

  “Haru!” I chastise him.

  “We’ll come to get you tomorrow.” He gives in.

  “Yay!” Max dances.

  “All right, buddy, talk to you tonight.”

  “Can you guys read me a story?” Max smiles.

  “Can do,” Haru agrees as I nod. “Love you, eat your dinner—take a shower.”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  “Bye, Max.” I smile.

  “Bye, guys.”

  The call ends, and Haru puts his phone away. “Hey, princess.” He smirks and picks me up. I giggle as he swings me around. He sets me down gently and kisses my lips with his delicious ones.

  “Hi. How was work?” I ask.

  “Regular.” He loosens his tie. I lean on the sofa a little, taking in all his sexiness as I watch him strip. Off comes the jacket, then the tie. He slowly unbuttons his shirt and takes it off, revealing his muscles and tattooed arms. I subconsciously lick my lips, flustered and rethinking his previous statement about the crazy sex.

  First, I desire a touch from his hands. In the next moment, insecurity. I bite my bottom lip and lower my eyes to the floor.

  “You want to order something and have a date on the sofa tonight? Then finish in the bedroom?” He glances back at me. “If Max is coming home tomorrow, that means quiet sex—still fun, not as entertaining.”

  I pick up his articles of clothing one by one as he stands near the stairs. When I make it over him, I hand him his clothes.

  “Sure.” I smile sweetly.

  “Sorry. Force of habit.”


  “Learn some new habits. What do you want? I’ll order. Are you heading to take a shower?”

  “Yeah. But... tonight is your night, princess. We can eat what you want and do what you want. It’s all you. Sorry about everything with your mom.”

  “It’s fine.” I smile girlishly. “So, I can choose?”

  “Yep. Whatever you want.”

  “Okay.”

  He kisses me. “Can you go put on something skimpy, so I can ogle you while we’re eating? Maybe I’ll have a taste of you too.”

  “Haru...” My cheeks burn as I avert my eyes from his devilish smile.

  “Okay, I’ll be down soon.” He continues up the stairs.

  I wonder if he’s had a slick tongue like that with every girl. I glance up, biting down on my teeth, my cheeks burning even more. Slick tongue. I shake off my embarrassment from my own thought, open the food delivery app on my phone, and scroll through some restaurants.

  Pasta sounds good and salad. I order from a place down the road.

  I change clothes, like Haru requested, putting on a tank top and some tiny shorts, then pull my hair into a low ponytail.

  I’m ready to spend all night with Haru, but questions of his past still linger in my mind. I want to talk to Haru about it, to dig deeper, so I can know him a little better. I want to know how he went from an innocent-looking boy to a dark, sexy man.

  They deliver the food before Haru comes back downstairs. I set the coffee table for both of us: a bowl of salad and a plate of pasta. I wait for him only a few more minutes.

  “What d'you get?” he asks, traipsing down the hall shirtless, letting all his sexy out. His hair, a little damp, hangs past his shoulders, and his jeans fit him perfectly. My eyes veer toward his bulge as he walks toward me. He flops on the sofa heavily.

  “Salad and pasta.”

  “Sounds good.” He slides himself closer to the table, grabbing the salad bowl closest to him and the fork and chomps down.

  I get mine off the table and take a few leaves of lettuce covered in Italian dressing and take a bite.

  “So, did you get a lot done?” He scarfs down the rest of his salad.

  “There are two boxes in the guestroom. When I get done going through those, I’ll take everything in the garage to a donation place or something.”