Over the following one to two weeks that passed, her grandpa grew considerably weaker. He didn’t have enough energy to go for walks and had to be permanently bed-bound. He could barely swallow anymore and because of it, had stopped eating. Watching him grow more and more feeble broke her heart in two. Some days, she’d stand outside of his room and sob, his own cries of pain too much to handle. Hospice nurses came every day, seeing to it that he was changed, bathed and his stump cared for. They worked tirelessly for 12 to 16-hour shifts at a time and she offered them to stay at the house should they be too tired to drive home. Some took the opportunity, others didn’t. 

    “Sami,” One such day, his weak whimpers were so bad she had to leave the room and she had come to stand in the hallway. Sobbing into the palms of her hands, she let the grief and anguish come out. Wiping her tears, she’d looked up to see Takeru. Wordlessly, she ran into his arms and began to weep. He lifted his arms to enclose her and he held her tight, sheltering her from everything and everyone. 

    “It’s okay baby girl…” His voice was calm and steady and it was everything she needed as her heart smashed to pieces. 

    “Let’s go outside. Hm?” Nodding against his chest, she let him take her by the hand and lead her to the patio. 

    Taking a trembling breath, she sniffed loudly as he handed her some tissues. 

    “I never thought it would hurt this bad…” She bawled, trying to catch her breath. He took her hand and gently caressed it, his expression that of deep sadness. 

    “I…I knew he was… gonna die… but… it… it hurts so much…” She released a watery sigh and withdrew her hand, lifting them to wipe away her tears. 

    “This must be… how he felt with Grandma…” 

    “Sami…” 

    “It’s all he had left of her…he couldn’t destroy it.”

    “Destroy what?” Lifting red watery eyes, she looked him in the eyes. 

    “The room.” His office. 

    “He didn’t want to forget how it happened. How… how they met.” Swallowing thickly, he looked down at their conjoined fingers. 

    “Take…” Looking up, the expression on her face ruined him. 

    “Please take good care of it.”

    “What are you talking about?” But she couldn’t answer because she’d gotten up and started to go back into the house. Take good care of what? 

*** 

    A car door shut behind her and she felt a hand slide up across her back. Swallowing thickly, she tried to calm her nerves as the two of them began to walk. They’d been here once before… on a day much chillier than this. The click of her heels on the pavement alerted the servants inside of their arrival. Stepping up the steps, a single rap against the door notified their desire to enter. Much like before, a pretty Chinese woman came to the door, a different one. Dressed though in the same style of qipao, her smile was big and friendly as she opened the door. 

    “Welcome, First Lieutenant Matsuda. Welcome, Miss. Please, follow me.” They followed the woman, past the beautiful Greco-Roman fountain and indoor Chinese garden. Going upstairs, she led them to the part of the house where they were both familiar. The elegant European balcony overlooked the garden. Sounds of Glenn Miller and Cab Calloway caught her attention first. How sweet it sounded and she stopped mid-way, mouth open in shock. The woman bowed low and silently left them alone. Going to the elaborately decorated table, he removed his hat. 

    “Sound familiar?” He asked, turning to look at her. Her heart raced and a myriad of emotions flooded her system, making her a bit lightheaded. The tears came first… So detached from the outside world, she had nearly forgotten how they sounded…how good and sweet it was.  Gladness filled her heart next. Then an unspeakable joy burst inside of her and she began to sing and dance along, forgetting for a moment that he was even there. Jumpin Jive….The spirit of Joe rested in the song and she had no choice but to sing for him, let him know that she still had it… still carried him in her heart. She picked up her dress, and moved along to the hopping beat, fresh invigorating horn, and Cab’s scatting. 

    He stood by his chair and lifted his water to his mouth. Watching her get lost in the rhythm was a spine-tingling experience.  She was alluring as she moved, her body seeming to be possessed as she danced and she didn’t return to herself until after the music had continued, playing another tune. Taking deep breaths, she opened her eyes to see him staring at her. A pretty pink flushed her cheeks and she lifted her hands into that nervous tic of hers, fingers ready to pinch the skin. 

    “Sorry…I…I just had to for Joe…” Putting the glass back on the table, he began to approach her. The dress he’d purchased for her fit perfectly, outlining a much fuller figure than the last time they’d come to this place. The slightly puffed shoulders of the dress gave an appropriate feminine touch. The sweetheart neckline provided a delicate tease of her neck which was decorated with a simple gold necklace.

     The colors of the dress only accentuated her beauty, rich summery yellow and orange, pops of green exploring a playful pattern of oranges ripe from the vineyard. Her hair now nearing the small of her back was twisted and tucked, giving herself the illusion of a coiffed bang. Her ears were bare and so was her face. She needed nothing else. He lifted a lone finger and caressed her cheek. 

    “An apology is not necessary.” Her lashes were wet from tears and he didn’t want to see them for the rest of the evening. Tonight was about celebration. 

    “You didn’t…need to do this Ichiro.” She breathed as he glided his thumb across her chin. 

    “I don’t need your permission.” He said quietly, reaching up to tease the soft smooth flesh of her bottom lip. 

    “I must confess that I don’t know what I’m doing here.” He said with a sigh, his touch leaving her altogether. 

    “I’ve never… courted a woman before.” She couldn’t help a tiny understanding smile and reached for his hand. 

    “Don’t think too hard about it. Let’s just go with the flow and see where it takes us.” Tightening his grip on her hand, he gently pulled her towards the table. Once seated, she picked up the menu. 

    “Unfortunately, it’s the same as it was last time.” 

    “I wasn’t going to complain.” She said with a small smile, placing it down. 

    “Would you like a drink?” He asked, reaching into his pocket for that cigarette case. 

    “If possible, yes.” 

    “Here she comes,” He said, lighting the nicotine stick with a match. 

    “Your bouillon will be out shortly. May I retrieve anything for you, Miss?” She asked in English, a sugary sweet smile plastered to her face. She knew a fake smile when she saw it. 

    “No, ma’am. I would like a Mai Tai, please. Do you have those?” She asked in a delicate Wu accent, stunning the woman; who glanced towards Ichiro.  His waved hand gave her the clearance to return the language. 

    “Yes, we have Mai Tai. May I get you something else?”

    “A Major Bailey for him, please. Not too much ice.” 

    “Of course.” 

    “Thank you. In case you don’t hear it enough.” She said with a smile, watching as the woman hurried out of the room, sure to tell the others that she knew Mandarin. 

    “I trust that you weren’t conspiring with her.” He commented in Japanese, lifting his water to drink. 

    “You’ll never know will you?” She teased back, lips smirking.  

    “Watch yourself, woman.” 

*** 

    Standing outside of his room, he felt his palms sweat. This was far above his pay grade. He only wanted to do his job and go home. The door opened and one of the hospice nurses gave him a friendly smile. 

    “He wrote this letter for you. Please read it at your discretion.” Handing him the folded paper, she closed the door once more. Swallowing his lung, he wiped his palms on his pants and opened the letter. 

    Ito, 

    I don’t have much longer. I am trusting you with my story. I’m trusting you with Bea’s story. Whether you do it out of feelings for Asami or not does not concern me. Don’t make this old son of a bitch regret his choices. 

M 

In true Matsuda fashion, he kept it short, sweet, and a little bit crass. What the hell did he want him to do? Why him of all people? Folding the letter up, he pushed off of the wall, nostrils flared. 

*** 

    Warm. She felt warm. Relaxed. Tipsy. The sounds of Glenn serenaded her and she had kicked off her shoes underneath the table. 

    “I’ve never asked you how you came to Shanghai.” His voice was low and quiet. But his eyes… the gin had made his eyes come even more alive and the way those dark intense eyes looked at her was just as intoxicating as the Jamaican rum she licked from the corner of her mouth. 

    “What do you know about the American South, soldier?” She asked, voice playful and light. 

    “I’ve never heard of a place like that.” 

    “Well then, let me tell you somethin’.” She leaned back in her chair. 

    “You’re takin’ to a Southern Belle as they call it. Wasn’t nothin’ glamorous about my life though.” 

    “Explain.” 

    “I’m from Alabama, originally. Huntsville to be exact.” Lifting her second drink of the evening, she took a sip or two. 

    “Down there, it’s hotter than hell and feels like it too.” She sighed, placing the drink down on the table. 

    “You ain’t ever heard about lynching either, have you?” 

    “No.” Licking her lips, she lifted her foot up to rest on his thigh. 

    “The whites love to lynch us. For no reason at all most times. Just for the hell of it. Because they’re bored or mad about somethin’. They go and find the nearest house, take a group of em with them with guns and other weapons.” She had his undivided attention. 

    “They lynch everybody, it don’t much matter. The men they love to cut up, dismember em’ and take their parts home as trophies. They love raping the women, say we are wild and sex crazy. Then the children they don’t much care for. If they babies they throw em up in the air and shoot em dead.” His throat had grown tight now and she removed her foot from his lap. 

    “They lynched my daddy. Took him and hung him up from the tree in our front yard. For no other reason than because he hadn’t gotten off the sidewalk fast enough for a white woman.” 

    “Bea,”

    “Our family skipped town and moved to Chicago. It was different and the race laws were different but it was better than Alabama.” Taking another drink of her cocktail, she lifted her foot again, placing it back in his lap. 

    “We did that for a while before coming to Shanghai. Momma and the rest found Shanghai too hard to adjust to and moved back to America but Joe and I stayed.” The way he looked at her now was full of contemplation and she would give anything to break up the dreary tension. Wiggling her toes, she watched as the action drew his gaze down and she laughed at the surprise on his face. 

    “Smile, soldier. Everythin’ happens for a reason doesn’t it?” He grabbed hold of her wiggling toes, eyes resuming their intense gaze upon her. Yeah, that was more like it. 

    “I suppose it does.” He answered, sinking his nail into the flesh of her foot. She jolted and sat up with a gasp. He challenged her with a raised eyebrow, a slight smirk teasing his lips. 

    “Now that wasn’t nice.” She said with a pout, sitting back in her chair with arms crossed. His nail left her and in place, fingertips and thumbs began to gently rub and knead the tired limb. A sound she’d never made before came trickling out of her mouth and it made his fingers press in a little more, evoking it again. 

    “You never listen to what I tell you.” He said, watching as her head fell back. 

    “You like that, remember?” She said with a small little chuckle, eyes opening to glance at him. He didn’t answer verbally, instead, letting his fingers answer as they drifted up from her foot to her ankle, from her ankle to her calve. His touch electrified her and left her nearly panting. 

    “Would you like dessert?” The sudden intrusion of the server startled her, making her yank her leg back. She glanced up at the woman, who smiled as phony as ever. 

    “Ah… um… no… I’m fine without it, thank you.” She stuttered, taking the appearance of a child caught doing something wrong. The sight deeply humored him. 

    “I would.” The woman turned to him. 

    “What would you like, sir?”

    “Nothing now. Later.” He answered, briefly glancing up at the woman. She bowed deeply and dismissed herself. With a clearing of the throat, she smoothed invisible wrinkles out of her dress. 

    “Did you want to take a walk?’ 

    “If you’d like.” 

    “Yeah. I think we need some fresh air.” Acquiescing, he got up from the table as she slipped back into her heels. Extending his arm, the two began their stroll.