South of the Border, West of the Sun Page 0,30

raised her hand and ordered another daiquiri, giving the biggest smile. A truly beautiful smile. The kind of smile that made you want to wrap up the whole picture for safekeeping.

“You still like blue, I see,” I said.

“Yes. I always have. You have a good memory.”

“I remember almost everything about you: the way you sharpen your pencils, the number of lumps of sugar you put in your tea.”

“And how many would that be?”

“Two.”

She narrowed her eyes a bit and looked at me.

“Tell me something, Hajime,” she began. “That time about eight years ago—why did you follow me?”

I sighed. “I couldn’t tell if it was you or not. The way you walked was exactly the same. But there was also something about it that didn’t seem like you. I tailed you because I wasn’t sure. Tailed isn’t the right word. I was just looking for the right moment to talk with you.”

“Then why didn’t you? Why didn’t you just come right out and see if it was me? That would have been faster.”

“I don’t know, myself,” I answered. “Something held me back. My voice just wouldn’t work.”

She bit her lip a little. “I didn’t notice then that it was you. All I could think was that someone was following me, and I was afraid. Really. I was terrified. But once I got in the cab and had a chance to calm down, it came to me. Could that have been Hajime?”

“Shimamoto-san, I was given something then. I don’t know what relationship you have with that person, but he gave me–”

She put her index finger to her lips. And lightly shook her head. Let’s not talk about that all right? she seemed to be saying. Please, don’t ever bring it up again.

“You’re married?” she asked, changing the subject

“With two kids,” I replied. “Both girls. They’re still little.”

“That’s great. I think daughters suit you. I can’t explain why, but they do.”

“I wonder.”

“Yes—somehow.” She smiled. “But at least you didn’t have an only child.”

“Not that I planned it. It just turned out that way.”

“What does it feel like? I wonder. To have two daughters.”

“Frankly, a little strange. More than half the children in my older girl’s nursery school are only children. The world’s changed since we were kids. In the city, only children have become more the rule, not the exception.”

“You and I were born too soon.”

“Maybe so,” I said. “Perhaps the world’s drawing closer to us. Sometimes when I see the two of them playing together at home, I’m amazed. A whole other way of raising children. When I was a child, I always played alone. I thought that was how all kids played.”

The piano trio wound up its version of “Corcovado,” and the customers gave them a hand. As always, as the night wore on, the trio’s playing grew warmer, more intimate. Between numbers the pianist drank red wine, while the bassist smoked.

Shimamoto sipped her cocktail. “You know, Hajime, I wasn’t at all sure at first whether I should come here. I agonized over it for nearly a month. I found out about your bar in some magazine I was leafing through. I thought it must be a mistake. You of all people running a bar! But there was your name, and your photograph. Good old Hajime from the old neighborhood. I was happy I could see you again, even if it was in a photograph. But I wasn’t sure if meeting you in person was a good idea. Maybe it was better for both of us if we didn’t. Maybe it was enough knowing you were happy and doing well.”

I listened to her in silence.

“But since I knew where you were, it seemed like a waste not to at least come see you once, so here I am. I sat down over there and watched you. If he doesn’t notice me, I thought, maybe I’ll just leave without saying anything. But I couldn’t stand it. It brought back so many memories, and I had to say hello.”

“Why?” I asked. “I mean, why did you think it was better not to meet me?”

Tracing the rim of her cocktail glass with her finger, she was lost in thought “I thought if I met you you’d want to know all about me. Whether I was married, where I lived, what I’d been up to, those kinds of things. Am I right?”

“Well, I’m sure those would come up.”

“Of course.”

“But you’d rather not talk about those?”

She smiled perplexedly and nodded. She had a million different variations