room with a ceiling that left the guts of the building—girders, wires, pipes—exposed to view. A very American setting, I decided.
Brad held up his glass in a toast. ‘What do the Japanese say again, Sensei?’
Although I felt like a fraud being called ‘teacher’—I was taking good money to instruct them in Japanese business etiquette, and I’d never worked in an office in my life—I was fairly confident in my knowledge of after-hours corporate culture.
‘Kampai,’ I said and lifted my glass while bending forward in a slight bow.
‘Kampai,’ they repeated dutifully.
We all drank. The beer was pleasantly bitter, delicious. It had been a long time since I tasted something so good.
‘I’ve learned too many rules and customs these past few weeks,’ Tim said. ‘I know I’m going to forget and do something wrong.’
He looked so earnest and appealing; I had to come to his rescue. ‘I’ll let you in on a secret. The Japanese prefer their foreigners clueless. As long as you don’t soap up in the bath or walk in a house with your shoes on, any other mistake gives you a certain endearing barbarian quality.’
‘I assume it was different for you since you’re fluent in the language and have a Japanese last name,’ Brad said.
‘Not really. Even if you manage to bewitch some poor native son into marriage, you’re still an outsider.’ Brad gave Tim a triumphant smile. ‘See, she married a Japanese guy. That’s what I thought. Tim guessed it was a grandfather with weak genes.’
‘I said it was a possibility,’ Tim corrected him.
When they spoke to each other their voices were low and quick. Comfortable. I felt a pang of jealousy. Would I always be an outsider, even here?
‘I hope your husband doesn’t mind us taking you away for a couple of hours,’ Tim said.
I took another swallow of my beer. Yuji was well past minding what I did. At least I hoped he was.
‘My husband’s in Osaka. We’re not really together anymore.’
This information had a visible effect on my companions. Tim blushed and dropped his gaze to the table. Brad’s eyes flickered.
‘There’s a lot of that going around,’ Brad said, grinning at Tim. ‘Tim’s girlfriend’s not so happy about him going to Tokyo. In fact, as of last weekend, he’s a free man.’
It was my turn to feel uncomfortable, although Tim didn’t seem particularly embarrassed. I’d forgotten how promiscuous Americans could be about sharing their private lives. Of course, this would be good news if I were on the prowl for a bed-warmer. A guy who’s recently been dumped is ripe picking for a wild, revenge-fueled one-night stand.
I took another swig of beer and glanced over at Tim. His five o’clock shadow seemed to deepen before my eyes, a subtle promise of tireless masculine vigor. I imagined kissing him, the oddly pleasant friction of that beard against my chin and upper lip.
Brad’s voice interrupted my reverie. ‘Sensei? I’m going to pick up our nachos. Can I get you another beer?’
You’d better take it easy, the saintly Lydia in my brain warned, her rosaries rattling. You know what happens when you let men get you tipsy. But the slightly buzzed, happily repatriated American Lydia had other ideas.
I smiled and nodded at Brad, a loose, effortless motion. It’s always been so much harder for me to say no.
CHAPTER TWO
After Brad left, I felt my smile widen from polite to genuinely pleased. Without even trying, I’d finally gotten Tim all to myself.
‘Are you sure you can’t talk your girlfriend into going with you to Tokyo?’ I asked, a touch perversely, as if I really did want them to get back together.
‘I’m sure,’ he said with a small, defiant smile. Maybe I’d have a little company tonight after all? Perhaps I was being a little harsh on myself with my vow to give up sex for eternity. After all, the Buddha taught we should be open to what life hands us and take the middle way between renunciation and pleasure. I could just tell by the way Tim moved his body and used his hands that he was the attentive, caring sort of lover who would most definitely bring me pleasure. He’d kiss and fondle my breasts for hours until I came just from the sweet tug-tugging of his lips on my throbbing nipples, then he’d gently part my thighs and use his tongue down there with such slow, savoring skill that I’d come again, drenching him with my juices, and he’d swear it was the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted. Afterwards, he’d wrap me in his arms and we’d float together, not the doomed and melancholy drifting of the courtesan with her lover of the moment, but as twin spirits joined in timeless bliss.
Suddenly I realized Tim was talking to me. Perhaps he had been for some time.
‘I do want to settle down, just not quite yet,’ he said with surprising firmness. ‘So, I’m going to do it. And whatever happens, at least it will be an adventure.’
‘Yes, I’d rather do something I regret than regret something I didn’t do,’ I said with a smile.
‘I know exactly what you mean.’
My chest tightened. It was brave of him to give up safety for adventure and suddenly I wanted to give him something to help, something more than tips on exchanging business cards or even a few sweaty rounds of sumo-wrestling on my futon.
And so I told him how living in Japan will give him a leisure no mere tourist has to know the rhythms of the place, a land of tiny poems. In autumn, he’d see the persimmons glowing like huge, orange jewels on their bare branches, then winter’s dusting of snow on blue tile roofs. He’d learn why the old erotic pictures are called ‘spring prints’—because in that season the air is as soft as a lover’s whisper—and he’d sigh at the perfect coolness of iced barley tea slipping down his throat on a wilting summer afternoon. As the year passed, he would become part of it. The neighbors would stop staring and start to nod a greeting, and one day the tiny old lady in the gray kimono at the snack stand would wrap up his regular order of red-beanand-rice balls before a word was spoken, and she’d flash him that first gold-toothed smile, and he’d be happy all day. It’s like someone’s given you a whole other life, I told him, an extra life to live for a while.
Tim listened, lips parted, the way men do when they want to be enchanted. And how could I blame him for falling under Japan’s spell? Not so very long ago, I was enchanted, too.
CHAPTER THREE
Just then Brad returned holding a tray, jauntily, like a waiter with a better job on his mind. He transferred the platter of nachos to the middle of the table and placed another pint glass beside me.
‘What did I miss?’
‘Sensei was just telling me more about living in Japan. It sounds amazing,’ Tim said.
‘Too bad. I could definitely use a sales job on the place myself.’
I felt my cheeks grow warm. So maybe I did go heavy on the haiku and cherry blossoms, but it wasn’t exactly
