hiding anything from me?”
She’s closing in on me! I thought, bracing myself. For a moment I contemplated confessing everything and returning all of the money. It occurred to me that if I opened up in that way I might get off the hook. But I hesitated, unable to reply to her question. After an awkward lull in our exchange, I gave up any hope of conning her this way.
“Well, to be honest, I haven’t touched that money yet. So let me give it all back to you.”
“What? Do you mean the story about your friend in trouble was a lie? If so, what was the money for? I really don’t understand. Do you think you can get any old tale past your mother? Don’t be ridiculous! Parents can always see through their children’s shenanigans, and I smelled a rat from the beginning. So tell me what’s going on!”
She was shouting now, stubbornly keeping this charade going. It was irritating and also rather creepy. Here I was more or less leveling with her, so why did she have to drag this out? But was it really a charade? And if not . . . what it would it mean if Daiki’s mother really thought I was him?
It was a horrifying idea. Suddenly I didn’t care about getting arrested; I just wanted out. Get me back to reality! I silently pleaded.
“Okay, okay, I did something stupid. It was just an impulse. I didn’t mean any harm. It just happened . . .” Clinging to that idea, I told her the whole story. I thought that I could somehow reset everything that had happened since I picked up Daiki’s cell phone. I didn’t know that it was already too late.
Mother heard my confession, only to fly into another rage: “Of all the nerve! So you say you’re not my son? Fine. If you want to treat your old mother like a stranger, go right ahead! You’ve been neglecting me all this time anyway. In exchange, I won’t hold back either—I’d been telling myself not to intrude. I was waiting for you to tell me. But I’ve had enough, so I’ll ask you anyway: are you going to marry Mamiko-chan or not?”
I was speechless, having no idea how to reply.
“I see . . . When faced with an inconvenient question, you fall into convenient silence. Very well then, go your merry way. It’s your life. Never mind your mother.”
“It’s . . . it’s not like that.” I barely managed to spit out the words, unnerved at not knowing what Mother would do next.
“Then what is it? Just tell me something.”
“I’ve broken up with Mamiko.”
I’d caught her off-guard. “Oh,” she sighed, looking momentarily dazed.
I felt somewhat relieved. And then my mind began to work. “Actually, the money I borrowed has something to do with that. I made a terrible mess, hurting her and all, and so I wanted to put a little space between us.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m sorry, really sorry. Look, what I told you before is true: I was driving my friend’s car with Mamiko and we had an accident. Mamiko was badly hurt.”
“Oh no! How badly hurt?”
“Multiple hip fractures. She’s a lot better now, with no aftereffects. We’d both been drinking, so the insurance barely covered anything. I managed to get some money together, borrowing it from friends. I told Mamiko how sorry I was and tried to take care of her, so that even though there aren’t any bad vibes, it’s somehow not quite right. We feel awkward together, you know, uncomfortable. There’s now a distance between us. We decided not to meet for a while, and then about a month later Mamiko suggested that we call it quits, at least for the time being.”
I was riding high. With my own parents, it occurred to me, I would never have been able to pull this off, but in my role as Daiki I found I had a measure of self-confidence.
“When was that?”
“Nearly six months ago.”
“I see. And all of this has obviously knocked you for a loop.”
“Yes, I’ve had a lot to deal with.”
“But about Mamiko-chan . . . you could have told me. The least I could have done was lend you some money for her hospital treatment. It’s as if we were strangers.”
“No, quite the contrary. I couldn’t speak precisely because I knew you really liked Mamiko and that it would be quite disappointing. I had my hands full just coping with my own state of depression. And Mamiko didn’t want to tell you much about what had happened.”
“Hmmm, so is that what it was?” she said before sighing deeply. “But it’s still too bad.”
“I know, I know. But dwelling on it only makes me feel worse. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Still, time will work things out, won’t it? My feeling is that you just have to wait for the dust to settle, and then everything will be back to normal.”
“That’s all very well, but I can’t work myself into a very hopeful frame of mind.”
“You’re quite the pessimist, aren’t you? You’ve got to try to have a more positive outlook, otherwise you’ll never get back on track. And without Mamiko you may wind up a bachelor for life.”
“That has nothing to do with anything. I’m hurt . . . Is this the kind of talk I get from my mother?”
“Ah, I’m sorry. I take it back. You’re right—it’s a separate matter. But really . . . give her some time and she’ll come to her senses.”
I stood there more than a little amazed. What was there for Mamiko to come to her senses about? Mother didn’t seem to be taking in anything that I was telling her. Perhaps she was no better at understanding Daiki, thus leading him to think that he was better off staying away from her.
But I didn’t care. The important thing was for me to leave her satisfied. So I said to her: “I’ll give it some time and then talk to Mamiko.”
“Yes, please do that,” she said cheerily.
I too was happy with that.
“But now it’s late!” she exclaimed, looking at her watch. I checked the time as well on my cell phone. It was already midnight. “Well now, what’s your new number?”
I had no desire to give it to her and thought about reciting a false one. But then I blurted it out anyway, and she wrote it down in her notebook.
“You’re staying over, aren’t you? It’s too late for you to get back tonight.” I did not want her to stay, but there was no alternative. I knew from her telephone prefix, 048, that it must be a Saitama number, as my family home in Kita-Urawa was in the same area.
“Yes, but where can I sleep?”
“Use my bed. I can get by in the kitchen.”
On the tatami mats lay a futon that I never bothered to fold up and put away. I covered it with fresh sheets and gave her my new bathrobe.
“Good night,” I said as I slid the door shut. Fatigue overwhelmed
