Chapter Three

Mimi, making extra sure she had the right door this time, stumbled into her motel room, kicking off her sandals and making her way barefoot across the floor. Her eyes felt grainy and she felt exhausted, but she didn't think she could go to sleep. She'd never been able to sleep when her emotions were running full blast.

I'd always been a happy child. She thought, her heart heavy with pain as she sank into a chair. I'd never had anything to cry about, not like some kids, who came to school dirty and sad. God, how I loved them! The tears came unbidden and she found that she couldn't sit still. With a growl of frustration she wiped the tears from her eyes and thrust herself up out of the chair. She hadn't cried two drops in three years and she'd be damned if she'd start bawling her life away now!

With determined steps, she walked in long strides to the deck she'd glimpsed briefly that morning while trying to find something to wear and attempting to force Yamato Ishida out of her thoughts.

Walking through the kitchen, she opened the sliding glass door and stepped from linoleum to wood, her breath coming out in a whoosh when she caught the view. Clearly illuminated in silver light from the moon, the pine and oak trees grew side-by-side, standing like sentinels beside the Kern River. There was a doe and fawn, visible only as shadows beneath a pine, drinking from the edge of the river where the water was somewhat calmer, and she could see little shadow creatures flitting from tree to tree. Despite the sadness that clenched her stomach in an iron fist, she smiled at the purity and innocence of nature.

She glanced around the forest in wonder, taking in the sights and sounds as she turned to see the other half of the deck…

And froze.

It had simply never accured to her that the deck would be shared with the room next to hers, but there was Yamato Ishida, lazily reclined on a green futon chair, a can of Pepsi on the table beside him. His eyes opened slowly and his gaze focused on her, the soft lighting from the lamps by the sliding glass doors making his eyes seem black instead of dark blue, filling her veins with liquid fire as they traveled from her legs to her hips, waist, and then breasts before finally meeting her eyes.

****

Yamato arched his back in a stretch before crossing his feet at the ankles and regarding the woman beside him with a friendly gaze. God but she was beautiful, from her cute little feet to her seductively wavy hair that just begged him to run his fingers through it. But she was wound tighter than a spring; he'd have to get her to loosen up and not be so tensed all the time. He smiled at the thought. He knew exactly how to loosen her up.

"Do you find something amusing, Mr. Ishida?" Her cold tone and formality didn't surprise him, though he had to admit that he had somewhat expected her to be ready to throw herself at him when she found out who he was. Hell, every other woman had! His interest in her grew.

"Not at all, I was merely thinking that you look quite beautiful tonight." He commented easily, lifting his arms and crossing them behind his head. She produced a very unladylike snort that made his smile stretch wider across his face.

"I can hardly believe that. I must look anything but beautiful with my hair in tangles and no doubt I have dirt on my face." She did have something on her face. Now that she had put a name to the substance, it was easy to see what the dark smears on her cheeks and forehead were. He supposed it would be a turnoff to most men. On any of the women he usually entertained it would have disgusted him, but something about the dirt only made her seem more beautiful.

He swung his long legs off the chair and stood. She took a step back as if to retreat to her room, but something changed her mind and she stood with her back ramrod straight, facing him with her chin thrust forward and her nose in the air. He loved it. He took her upper arms in his hands, her skin burning against his, and looked down at her, noticing with a jolt of pleasure that she had tilted her head further back to see him.

"You're as beautiful as an angle, Angel." He said with total seriousness. She laughed up at him. It sounded real, not like the way his type of women usually laughed, but then, his type of women were only good for one thing.

"Flattery doesn't get anywhere with me Mr. Ishida." She said in amusement, her eyes flashing into his. The formal way she said his name made him feel like an old man.

"It's Yamato, and it's not flattery if it's true."

"Whatever, Yamato." He cringed and was tempted for a moment to tell her to go back to calling him "Mr. Ishida.

"Do you always take complements this well?"

"Of course, that's why I'm such a good girl."

"So really are an angel huh?"

"No," He sensed a sudden sadness around her, dispelling her playful sarcasm. "I'm no angel at all." He felt her arms twitch as she attempted to remove herself from his grasp, but instead of letting her go he pulled her closer against him and looked down into her eyes, ignoring his instant reaction and making sure she couldn't feel it.

"Did I say something wrong?" She was watching the jumping of his pulse curiously and looked up at him when he asked the question.

"Of course not, I'm just not innocent enough to be an angel, that's all." He felt a jolt of disappointment at her words. Although no one was a virgin past nineteen anymore, he'd cherished the though that she might not be very experienced. He shrugged mentally, dismissing his half formed hopes. Beggars can't be choosy. He frowned at the thought. He'd never referred to himself as a beggar before.

"Well, innocent or no, I still think you're an angel." He said lightly, dismissing his thoughts as he tried to cheer her back up. It seemed he had the opposite effect as she jerked out of his arms so suddenly that he had no choice but to let her go. She stood several feet away, breathing heavily, her breasts pushing against her white, dust splattered blouse as she struggled with conflicted emotions. He was startled to see the silver on her face and was stumped for several seconds before he realized she was crying. He took a step towards her but she flung her hands out infront of herself as if to hold him off.

"You don't know me!" She burst out suddenly, the words sounding shrill and accusing. "You don't know where I come from or what I've done! You don't even know my last name!"

****

Mimi tried unsuccessfully to get herself under control. She knew she was overreacting, he'd only been trying to cheer her up; but she just couldn't help it! She'd left her aging parents to themselves and run off to New York, where she'd been a housekeeper for a murderer for Christ's sake! And here was one of the hottest guys she'd ever seen telling her she was an angel! She suddenly had the absurd urge to laugh, but managed heroically to choke it down.

"It's not for lack of wanting." Struck off balance that he had even dared to speak, she stared at him until his words finally made it from her ears to her brain. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"You want to know me?" He shrugged as if it wasn't something out of the ordinary.

"Who wouldn't? You seem like an interresting person."

"You mean you don't just want to…" She blushed at what she'd almost said while she cursed herself for her unworldly attitude.

"Don't mistake me, I most definitely want that, but I'd also like to get to know you." He smiled lopsidedly, making her catch her breath. "So what is your last name?"

Emotions roiled inside her, grappling so strongly for acknowledgement that she felt swept up in the struggling. In the end, fear of getting close won out and, with one last look at his handsome, confused face; turned and escaped back to her room where she locked the sliding glass door behind her incase he tried to follow.

****

Mimi lifted the tan work shirt out of the drawer and shaking it, tears floating in her eyes as she gazed at it lovingly. Tachikawa was stitched in dark blue acrossed the left side and it had a dark oil stain near the bottom that years of washing had failed to remove. She lifted it to her face a took a deep breath, inhaling the lingering scent. Daddy.

Pulling off her own blouse, she slipped into her father's and buttoned it all the way down. Looking in the mirror she smiled shakily at the way the Xlarge shirt swallowed her small frame and made her look like a child and walked from her parents bedroom to see how Sora was coming with lunch.

"Done already?" Sora asked from the kitchen table as soon as She walked in. Mimi pulled out a chair and sat down, reaching for a knife to help Sora with the potatoes she was slicing.

"Not even close. It's so hard going through their stuff." She said, her voice choked and tired.

"So how are things with Mr. Ishida?" She asked eagerly, changing the subject. A sharp laugh escaped from between Mimi's lips as she smiled and shook her head.

"Sora, has anyone ever told you that subtlety isn't quite your strong point?" Sora shrugged.

"Life's to short for subtlety. So… has anything new happened?"

"You're impossible!"

"You bet! Now come on Mimi, spill?"

"Nothing new has happed." Sora stuck her bottom lip out in a stubborn, pouting expression that Mimi couldn't help but laugh at. "Come on Sora, let's change the subject, I don't feel like talking about Yamato today." Sora's eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Already on a first name basis are we?" Mimi blushed at what and shook her head.

"Can we please change the subject!"

"Do you like him?" Confused, Mimi stared at her.

"What?"

"Are you attracted to him? You know, is there any chemistry there?"

"No!" She exclaimed quickly, aghast that her friend would even think there could be anything between her and that arrogant, selfish, rude, hormonal….. man!

"You know, how about we change the subject?" Mimi asked in a deceptively sweet voice.

"Oh, but Mimi-"

"Like now!" Sora sighed in false misery.

"Well, if you insist."

"I do!"

"How about that sky today huh?" She asked with a smile, "Talk about blue."

Mimi laughed.