weary patience.
One day, to Sarah’s delight, the women announced they were taking her downtown for an afternoon of shopping. It was then that she learned how complex forward-thinking could be.
“Should I run over right now and invite Momoko and Yashiko?” Mrs. Asaki always invited her along when she took her granddaughters shopping. They had ice cream on the sixteenth floor of the Takashimaya department store, and they were allowed one item each from the Hello Kitty shop.
“Soh soh, run along and invite them,” urged her grandfather, who happened to be passing by on his way to the workroom. He carried a sheaf of sketches and his hair was rumpled. He was preparing for an upcoming jewelry exhibition.
Mrs. Kobayashi waited until he passed, then shook her head at Sarah. “Don’t listen,” she whispered. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” The two women exchanged wry smiles of exasperation.
“You mean they can’t come?” Momoko and Yashiko adored the French pastry shops and the department stores that lined Marutamachi Boulevard.
“It would be best if you didn’t mention it,” her grandmother said.
Sarah pouted as she and her mother stood in the parlor, changing into their downtown clothes. “Grandma’s stingy,” she complained.
Mrs. Rexford laughed. When the three of them reconvened in the family room, she told her mother, “We need to educate this child. She thinks you’re being stingy.”
“Ara maa.” Mrs. Kobayashi smiled indulgently.
Mrs. Rexford took to her task right away. “Now use your chess brain,” she told Sarah as the three of them put on their shoes in the vestibule. “What would happen if you invited the girls?”
“They’d be allowed to come. Granny and Auntie would say it was a lovely idea.”
“You’re absolutely right. They’d certainly say that.”
Mother and daughter stepped out into the lane and watched as Mrs. Kobayashi drew the curtains behind the glass panels of the kitchen door. She then rolled the door shut and locked it, even though Mr. Kobayashi was still inside.
“Let’s go this way,” Mrs. Kobayashi said. They headed toward the paved street, avoiding the gravel lane that passed right under Mrs. Asaki’s balcony. Their corner house was convenient for sleight-of-hand exits. The view from the Asaki house covered only the Kobayashis’ formal guest entrance, not the kitchen entrance around the corner.
“So if they came with us, what would happen?” quizzed Mrs. Rexford.
Sarah had no idea. She had never been good at chess.
“Don’t you think Granny Asaki would feel bad,” her mother said, “sitting at home while her grandchildren were out having a good time with their real grandmother?”
Sarah darted a quick glance at her grandmother. So she knew that Sarah knew!
“Would Granny feel bad?” Sarah asked doubtfully.
“Of course! She’s very insecure.”
Before turning the corner onto the main street, they paused. Mrs. Rexford peeked around the wooden fence. Ahead of them was the neighborhood snack shop whose owner, chatty Mrs. Yagi, was usually outside gossiping with a customer. “She’s not there. Quick,” Mrs. Rexford said, and the three of them strode briskly past in their telltale clothes: Sarah in her good dress, the women in their heels.
They relaxed when they entered the long, tree-lined stretch of Ginnan Street, where the crosstown bus stop was.
“So if Granny feels insecure and frustrated”—Mrs. Rexford was slightly out of breath—“then what happens? She takes it out on—whom?”
“Nnn…Uncle?” Sarah knew something about the in-law situation; her parents had discussed it. Things were a bit strained because the mother-in-law, not the son-in-law, owned the deed to the house. In theory it made perfect sense to take in a son-in-law and his family—the house was too big for a widow living alone. But there was something emasculating about it. And apparently Mrs. Asaki was not above taking subtle advantage of the situation.
“Very good,” said Mrs. Rexford. “Then what would happen?”
“There’s more?”
“This is really not that hard,” her mother said. “Use your brain. If the harmony of their house is disturbed, who has to act as go-between and calm everyone down?”
“That would be your auntie,” said Mrs. Kobayashi. “And a thankless task it is,” she added grimly.
“So then you’d have three adults upset and troubled, all because you didn’t think ahead. Is that what you want?”
“No! I don’t want that.”
“Then as strange as it may seem,” concluded her mother, “slipping out like this is actually the best solution.”
“Very true,” said Mrs. Kobayashi.
For Sarah, this was an unfamiliar way of thinking. It was exciting but also exhausting, like that playground game where balls came at you from every direction. Despite the good intentions, it struck her as