-Parasol-
Sonomi knew that chin and long neck, those delicate shoulders under the shade of a parasol. In the advertisement, the logo emblazoned product bottle dominated the foreground of the glossy image; in the background, a woman with a parasol of white lace stood in a field of blooming lavender. The photographer had deftly captured a demure pose where the model's face was nearly hidden by the parasol. A long wisp of her hair curled out on a breeze. How many photographs were discarded in favor of this one, Sonomi wondered. Then again, photogenic Nadeshiko had a way of easily being captured on film.
The magazine had given her something to flip through while she waited for the nurse. It gave her something to look at instead of the needle after the nurse started taking blood. She hated needles, and she hated waiting.
"There, we're all done," said the nurse, drawing away the needle and drawing Sonomi's attention back to the medical office. "Amamiya-san," the nurse glanced at the client's chart, "your blood test results should be ready by tomorrow afternoon."
Sonomi began to roll down her sleeve. "No hurry," she commented. It was a formality for the marriage license, nothing more. She already knew Daidouji-san's blood type and health profile. She knew everything about him that a dossier could hold. That he was a suitable match was all that she was interested to know. Her parents approved the marriage. Ojii-sama approved.
Leaving the doctor's office, Sonomi felt unsteady on her high-heeled shoes. This was due more to the presence of needles than to the small quantity of blood taken from her slim body. She wobbled down to the parking level and her car, pausing briefly for a Styrofoam cup of bad, sweet coffee from a vending machine. Had she eaten lunch? Her day had been full of back-and-forth phone calls with the wedding planner. There had been a formal breakfast with both families, but Sonomi had been concentrating on polite smiling.
If she wanted to lay blame, and occasionally, the young woman did, she would have blamed her lightheadedness for her next actions. She never put Nadeshiko completely from her mind, but the picture in the magazine made her foremost in Sonomi's thoughts as she started to drive home.
A few minutes later, while she sipped the dregs of thin liquid from her lipstick marked cup, she was navigating the quiet streets of a peaceful Tomoeda neighborhood with a yellow, two-story house coming into view. She had not told her cousin yet about the upcoming wedding. The Kinomotos, naturally, had not been invited. Sonomi parked. She looked across the street at the stairs leading up to Nadeshiko's front door. How difficult could it be? Nadeshiko had not had any trouble, making her announcement six years ago. No, for the carefree teenager, it had been a laughing, casual confidence to her cousin Sonomi, first. Then Nadeshiko and that man declared their intention to marry to the family.
One of Sonomi's long, painted fingernails broke through the side of the coffee cup. Her aggravation from the memory was fresh and hot, unlike the last drops of coffee leaking out of the pierced Styrofoam. She wiped her hand on her handkerchief and stepped out of the car.
The sunlight of late afternoon blinded her for a moment when she slipped her sunglasses away. Light, warm wind played in the branches of the trees along the street. It had taken years for that man to provide this small, middle class house for Nadeshiko instead of an apartment hardly even fit for a bachelor.
She walked up the narrow stairs, certain that this was the correct address. The front door was open, and there was a child sitting on the porch. Stunned, Sonomi watched him for a long moment while he concentrated on the picture that he was coloring with crayon. She recalled belatedly that there was a child, a boy. Nadeshiko had sent a family picture when he was a baby-in-arms, a picture that Sonomi had immediately hidden away - from herself and anyone else.
The boy was drawing bunnies. He ignored her until his picture was complete. Then with a suspicious glare he picked up his box of crayons and his drawing pad and ran inside. Sonomi heard the yell for "Okaasan!" once he was out of her sight and inside the house. She hesitated at the lintel. Then she stepped inside, stepped out of her shoes, and placed them against the wall.
"I'm sorry, I can't get up," called a sweet voice from a nearby room. "Please come in?"
Sonomi followed the voice around the corner. On the inside, the house was an improvement over the old apartment, but not much more could be said for it. It was clean and tidy but hopelessly middle-class. The sunlight filtered into the room through windows draped with store-bought curtains. The furnishings were ready-made, department store ordinary. A Waterford imitation vase of pressed glass held a large bouquet of wildflowers. Many of the bric-a-brac in the room were made of plastic.
Nadeshiko sat on a short sofa in the living room. The little boy had settled himself at the edge of the coffee table. He made a show of putting colored lines on the blank paper in front of him, but Sonomi could see that he was watching her from the cover of his black eyelashes. The rest of the low table lay buried under photographs, paper, and bottles of Nori glue piled around a large scrapbook. Before she looked up, Nadeshiko finished pressing a dried flower down onto the brown paper page. She tried to stand up when she saw Sonomi, but that started an avalanche in Nadeshiko's lap and a glacial flow across the table. "Sonomi-kun!" Nadeshiko quickly sat back down, but a confetti of ephemera escaped to the carpet. Her smile was one of delighted surprise. She looked beautiful and happy. "Wait, let me dig my way out. I'm so happy to see you! I'll make us some tea."
"You shouldn't bother yourself," Sonomi answered with polite concern. "I'm fine."
"I can tell when you haven't eaten in a while, cousin. You get that wobbly look," teased Nadeshiko. "Touya," she addressed the little boy, "will you bring an iced tea for your Aunt Sonomi? There is a pitcher in the refrigerator." The child gave the visitor another suspicious look as he left the room. "And some cookies!" his mother called after him. "Sit down, Sonomi. There is some space on that chair. You can just move those... on to the floor."
"What is all this about?" Sonomi waved her hand over her cousin's project. She found room to sit after relocating a shoebox of shells and pebbles to the floor beside the armchair.
"Well, we have all these keepsakes from things we've done together, and I saw a television program about making scrapbooks. I thought it would be a fun thing to do." She picked up a movie ticket stub, applied adhesive to the back of it, and positioned it next to the dried flower. A strand of her long hair caught in the glue. She had paper photo corners stuck to her jersey shirt and a spangle of glitter on one eyelid that appeared whenever she blinked.
"At least there isn't anything sharp or toxic involved," observed Sonomi aloud.
Not at all offended, Nadeshiko laughed cheerfully. "No more oil paints for me," she agreed. "And less work than gardening." She smiled as an idea came to her. "You haven't seen my garden! This is the first time that you've come to our house." She looked at her cousin, who had always been as close to her as a sister but who had sided with the rest of the family when Nadeshiko married Fujitaka. "I'm happy that you did. I miss you."
Sonomi wanted to echo, I miss you, too. "It's so busy - work, the family." Now was the moment to tell her, Sonomi thought, about the wedding. She didn't. Nadeshiko's son walked in with snacks on a tray, and the two women shuffled papers to make an open space on the table. The tray held hard plastic cups with ice tea for the adults and milk for the boy. The flower shaped cookies invited eating. Sonomi bit into one; it was crumbly, soft, and buttery.
Nadeshiko pasted a second ticket stub over the first to give them the casual appearance of being tossed there. "These are from before when Touya was born." She mused over a receipt and a folded program. "Do you remember this?" She handed the open booklet to Sonomi. It was from a performance at their high school during their last year school festival.
"Do you keep everything?" asked Sonomi, wondering at the nostalgic value of an old program.
Nadeshiko's smile was her answer. "I always have! I kept all your notes, too."
"At which bakery did you get these?" Nadeshiko didn't cook; she charred.
"Otousan made them," the boy announced.
Sonomi finished the cookie that she was chewing. She didn't reach for another. She didn't need the empty calories, anyway.
"How is grandfather?" Nadeshiko asked, as she always did.
"He is fine," answered Sonomi. "Still healthy and active, in spite of the small pneumonia scare after his last birthday."
Nadeshiko put down the glue. "You didn't tell me about that," she commented.
"There is nothing to worry about, now. He was in the best care, of course, and was back on his feet in a few days." At the time, Sonomi had worried herself ragged.
Nadeshiko continue to extricate herself from her crafting project. "Would you like to go outside and see my garden? It has filled in, now that everything is blooming. I'm proud of it, I have to say," she bragged. Once she finished moving objects off of herself, she stood up and picked her way out to a clear space. She beckoned the boy. "Touya, let's show your Aunt Sonomi the plants."
The boy put down his crayons and ran to the sliding deck door. He put on the garden shoes that waited on the concrete. He held the door, as if to hold it open for his mother, waiting and watching for her come to join him. Sonomi retrieved her street shoes from the entryway rather than chance an offer of rubber garden clogs as hideous as the ones that Nadeshiko put onto her own feet.
Sonomi accepted the tour of the little green space behind the house. There was not much to see. Some flowering bushes bloomed. Nadeshiko had cultivated a bed of her namesake flower; it must be the source of the bouquet that she sent to Ojii-sama every birthday. Nadeshiko's child ran off to the little patch of lawn and started kicking a ball.
"Isn't it beautiful outdoors lately? I love this weather," Nadeshiko commented. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made her face light up. "Oh! Fujitaka's home!"
"Already?" asked Sonomi, but Nadeshiko was not listening. Sonomi felt trapped in the garden. The feeling became worse when Kinomoto-sensei made an appearance. He didn't see Sonomi at first. When Nadeshiko opened the sliding door to greet him, he gathered up his wife in an intimate greeting. Nadeshiko let herself be crushed in his embrace before she laughingly pointed out that there was a guest.
Fujitaka Kinomoto disentangled from his wife with a lingering flush on his face. If he was startled to see Sonomi, he covered it up with a large and friendly smile. Sonomi thought that he must be surprised to see her. She had done her best to limit their interactions over the last several years.
"Sonomi! What a rare pleasure to see you," he greeted. He straightened his glasses. Nadeshiko continued to lean on his arm, caressing his sleeve with fondness. Stars were in her eyes as she looked at the man she had married.
Sonomi suddenly needed to sit down. A wave of light-headedness threatened an uncharacteristic faint. Sonomi took a few wobbling steps over to a plastic patio chair and kept herself from falling.
"Sonomi-kun! Is something wrong?!" Nadeshiko flew to her side.
"I'll be fine if I sit a minute." She put her hands on her knees to still the teetering world. When she opened her eyes again after a moment, she saw Kinomoto-sensei notice the bandage at the bend of her arm.
"Sonomi-kun – were you injured?"
"No, no, I'm fine," she insisted. It bothered her that he was more observant than her cousin had been. "I just had some blood taken." She lifted her head again and saw Nadeshiko's expression of horrified worry. "It was just routine."
She failed to mollify Nadeshiko. "Just routine? What do you mean?" Nadeshiko's eyes were wide with concern. "Why were you at the doctor? Do we need to take you to the hospital now?"
Fujitaka started to take action. "I will start the car."
"Touya, let's get our shoes on," Nadeshiko urged her child, following Fujitaka's lead.
"No, it was just for a blood test!" Flustered, Sonomi blurted her news like an excuse. "I'm getting married!"
Nadeshiko reacted with an instant change from fear to happy excitement. "Oh, Sonomi-kun, that's wonderful! When? How did you meet?"
"It was arranged, of course," Sonomi retorted. She glanced at Kinomoto-sensei and back at Nadeshiko, her implication all but stated. Nadeshiko would have had an arranged marriage, too, if she had not gone against the desire of her family. She might have been allowed a love match if the candidate had been suitable, someone with good family connections who stood to inherit at least a respectable name. Fujitaka Kinomoto had no family at all.
"Oh. Of course," Nadeshiko voiced.
"I'm happy for you, Sonomi-kun," Fujitaka offered.
Nadeshiko echoed her husband. "I'm happy for you. I hope whoever he is, he will be a good match."
Feeling put on the spot, Sonomi couldn't help answering in a haughty tone. "Naturally, he's a good match. Daidouji-san is the heir to a conglomerate. He's already on the executive board." She fussed to hide her embarrassment. "He is appropriately handsome, too."
"I'm... glad," said Nadeshiko. She waived to her child, and the boy came running to his mother. To her husband, she asked, "Could you take Touya inside to wash up?"
Fujitaka took his son's dusty hand. "Excuse us, Sonomi-kun," he said, and then he and the boy went indoor.
Sonomi found herself pinned by Nadeshiko's regard. "Is it what you want? This marriage?" Nadeshiko asked. "To do what the family wants?"
"What else would I do? What is good for the family is good for me." Sonomi believed it as she said it.
"If you're happy, that is all that matters," said Nadeshiko with an earnest smile.
"What matters is not to betray the family. I'm expected to be the good daughter –" Sonomi stopped herself two words too late.
Nadeshiko's smile turned sad. "I wonder if they will ever forgive me for making my own happiness," she questioned. "I didn't betray you, Sonomi-kun, or Ojii-chan, or my mother and father. You know that, don't you?" Nadeshiko opened her arms and made an all-encompassing gesture. "I'm happy!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "That's all I did!"
"I..." Sonomi did not want to fight. It was hard enough to feel angry at Nadeshiko for creating the family rift while still loving her best of all. She didn't support the marriage choice, but she had witnessed at Nadeshiko's wedding, and the bouquet was Sonomi's secret keepsake. The chemical preservation process of the delicate cherry blossom bouquet had taken a substantial chunk out of Sonomi's savings when she was seventeen.
The flower budget alone for Sonomi's upcoming wedding was easily ten times what Nadeshiko had been able to spend on the entirety of her wedding to Kinomoto-sensei. Sonomi's custom designed dress was going to cost more than the down payment on Nadeshiko's house. Neither of those things would make a ripple now in Sonomi's finances, if she were paying for her own wedding.
"You'll come, won't you?" Sonomi found herself asking.
Nadeshiko softened. "I would love to come to your wedding, Sonomi-kun," she said. "I really would."
"But."
Nadeshiko nodded. "You know that I can't."
"Nadeshiko, Ojii-sama looks forward to the gift you always still send him on his birthday. He likes to spend time at the country house because it reminds him of summers there when you and I were children. If you came to the family and apologized..."
Nadeshiko emitted an hissing sigh. "No," she said.
"Nadeshiko!"
"If they don't accept my husband and son, then they don't accept me," Nadeshiko stated. "This is my family, now. If they are all the family that I have, then they are all the family that I need."
"Do you have to be so stubborn?" Sonomi turned away.
"I've come to terms with it," Nadeshiko replied. "It's something that Fujitaka and I have talked about a lot."
The sliding door opened again, and Fujitaka interrupted the souring mood. "Sonomi-kun, would you like to stay for dinner?" he invited. He carried a glass of water for her, but she waived it off.
She took the opportunity to make her exit. "No, thank you for the offer," she said with cool politeness. "I have a previous commitment."
"Of course. You're welcome any time," Fujitaka replied.
"I'll walk with you to your car," Nadeshiko started.
Sonomi started to protest but changed her mind. She didn't want to leave on a discordant note. Nadeshiko led her through the house and out to the front steps. They walked down them together and through the gate to the street.
Bitterly, because she could not stop herself, Sonomi said, "You let that man do your thinking for you."
With unexpected spirit, Nadeshiko snapped back, "That's a hurtful thing to say and not true."
They both stood in silence at the end of the steps.
"Best wishes on your upcoming marriage, Sonomi-kun," said Nadeshiko at last. "I know that you don't like the way things are with the family and me. I don't get to see you very much, but at least I still exist to you. You've always been important to me," she finished.
"You've always been..." Sonomi still could not say my most important person, "to me, too. Important to me."
"Then let's part with smiles."
Nadeshiko gave Sonomi a smile that appeared in every way genuine. If Sonomi's returning smile was less bright, it was because Sonomi remembered that she didn't have the ease of expression practiced for a camera that her model cousin had.
Sonomi fished through her purse for one of the mock-up Save the Date cards. She had the proofs in her bag but it was too late to put Nadeshiko on the list for mailing. She extended the card to Nadeshiko. "It's a winter wedding. If you change your mind, I would be happy to see you that day."
"Thank you, Sonomi-kun." Nadeshiko took the card and studied it for another long moment.
"Well, good-bye," said Sonomi.
"Good-bye. Don't forget to eat!"
Sonomi went to her car and slipped in behind the steering wheel, feeling shaky. What had she even been thinking, coming here this afternoon, she wondered. There were a thousand things still to do.
