When the evening finally wound to a close, he retired to his room and simply stared at the walls that had housed him for so long. His father had grown up here, his grandfather, and even his great-grandfather… so why had he fought against it for so long? Why did saying goodbye make him feel so hollow inside?
He could hear his mother weeping softly in the guest room. She couldn’t bring herself to lie next to his father like other mourning wives did. He was gone and she was mourning. His mother might be Japanese on paper, but deep down inside she was still American and in shock at the traditional burial arrangements.
“Mother? Are you alright?” he called out softly, knowing she could hear him through the paper walls of their home.
“I’m fine, Aaron.”
He got up and slid open the paper door way that separated his room from the guest bedroom of the hotel. He saw her sitting there on the bedding, her arms wrapped around her knees in her gown. Her brown hair was heavily highlighted with the gray strands of age.
“It’s okay, mother. Lay down and rest,” he urged simply, covering her up. He remembered when he was little and had nightmares, that she would come to his room. His mother would hold him while he slept to keep the scary things away from him so he could rest. It was now his turn to soothe the nightmare she was going through.
“Lay down, mama- I’ve got you,” Aaron whispered and wrapped his arm around her thin frame as she began to weep again as she lay there. He felt tears burning his own eyes and running down his face into his hair. It would be a long night for both of them.
Early the next morning, neither said a word about the child comforting the parent – but rather, it seemed like a role that he was now preparing for. He wasn’t a young boy anymore but rather a grown man. Time had slipped by as he looked at his mother and really saw her for who she was now. She was an older woman that looked adrift, and Aaron had promised his father to take care of her. He would be the anchor and hold the traditions in place- just as he’d been born to. He hadn’t been ready before, but somehow, he knew his place.
Aaron’s two worlds were colliding – the traditional and the modern. It was up to him to find his balance once again in this turbulent thing called life. He put a bowl of fruit in front of his mother and poured her some tea as she sat at the chabudai. Aaron took his place on the zabuton nearby and poured his own tea.
“Eat mother. We’ve a long day ahead of us.”
“I don’t think I can do this, Aaron.”
“I know – but you will- because it’s what would make him proud. We’ll both do our duty and honor him… and then we’ll both grieve privately when we are alone and hidden from the world.”
“How do you always know what to say?” she said with a watery smile, laying her veiny hand on his. His heart lurched at the pride in her eyes and loneliness he saw there. He felt like a fake that was barely trying to hold his emotions together.
“I had a really good example of who I should become and friends that supported me along the way.”
“I loved your father so very much,” she said with a tremulous smile. He could see that she was really close to breaking down in tears again. If she cried, he would probably tear up as well, because it was breaking his heart to be the strong one right now.
“I know you did – I loved him too. It will be okay.”
“Will it?”
“If we keep telling ourselves that- we’ll get through today.”
Jemma looked nervously in the mirror. Edo had said this would be a perfect thing to wear to a funeral and it would show the ultimate respect to Aaron’s family, but she felt oddly out of place.
Edo was very specific on how to fold the mofuke, instructing her on which panel went on top. It was very similar to a kimono, but in black with no decorations whatsoever. Apparently you had to place the right over the left panel. Only the person being buried had it reversed, putting left over right. From Edo, she learned that the people here were very strong in their beliefs, something she could see from how much Achoo had bucked against tradition. She couldn’t imagine growing up here with her purple hair or handmade clothing. She would have been ostracized and rejected, making her wonder if Aaron was as a boy.
She had to call down to the front desk for help to tie her obi-jime around her waist. The tabi socks on her feet felt strange but made her feet look so tiny and delicate in the sandals she’d purchased. The black kimono felt so sedate and somber – keenly appropriate for the funeral today. She’d fallen in love with a vibrant purple kimono she’d seen yesterday. It had been printed with the cherry blossoms in a lovely pattern. She’d splurged and bought both items of clothing.
Her hair was twisted up in a French knot and pinned into place. She didn’t think it was long enough to fashion it in to a bun like she’d seen on other women. Leaving her room, she tucked her cell phone and several tissues into the obi-jime belt around her waist.
Walking slowly down to the hotel lobby, she saw several people nod to her in approval of her costume. She felt like a sham and hoped she was doing Aaron’s family proud today. She wanted to be there for her friend and represent the company.
Once she got seated in the limo, the world seemed to drop away as it whisked her out of the city and into the villages. Kyoto was breathtaking at night and she had sat at her hotel window for well over an hour simply sipping on tea. Bright, neon lights clashed against the night sky. There was so much to see and do here… and she’d barely started her exploration.
Staring out of the car window, she saw that they’d passed the building from yesterday and pulled in front of a cemetery. It was filled with tall, concrete and marble markers that were rectangular and about two or three feet high. Several lanterns were nearby to illuminate the names, even during the daytime hours. The sun was beaming down, making everything look so brilliant and colorful. It would have been a spectacular day if it wasn’t such a sad event.
Jemma spotted Aaron and his mother almost immediately. Both were dressed in the traditional robes like she was; however, she noticed that several people were not wearing them. Maybe it wasn’t required or she was stepping out of line, dressing like this.
“Edo!” she whispered, elbowing the driver whom she’d befriended easily. He was very amiable to talk to and showed her photo after photo of his wife and son proudly. “Isn’t everyone supposed to be in the black robes?”
“No, not necessarily.”
“Then why’d I get the black ones?”
“It’s a sign of respect and I would think you’d want to show that.”
He was right.
She did want to show respect to the family – and she wanted to impress Aaron. She hoped that sometime during her trip out here she would get a chance to talk to him, to talk about how he was doing, and what a giant in the industry he’d become. She was so very proud of him and how strong he’d become mentally! This wasn’t the teenager that had reached out long ago, afraid to leave home.
Jemma saw Aaron look over his mother’s head directly at her and waved them over. Carefully stepping through the grass, in-between the markers, she made her way over to where everyone was gathered. The marker on the grass was marble and extremely worn. Several dates were transcribed along the sides, indicating the years that people were laid to rest. For such a sad event, she was completely entranced with how different it was from a funeral held back home.
Standing there behind Aaron, she heard the priest speaking, and saw Aaron’s large hand quietly extended her way. She glanced up at the back of his head and saw him standing strong. This was a sign between them! Her Achoo had once typed
A silent invitation.
He knew exactly who she was and was reaching out to his friend at a time of need. This meant so much, this little gesture. There had been times when she needed a friend and yearned for someone to hold her hand – and he needed that comfort too. Jemma slipped her hand into his, feeling the warmth of
his skin. He tugged her forward without question to stand beside him. She stood there with her best friend as he held her hand in a show of solidarity, something she never dreamed that she would have the chance to do.
Jemma heard Aaron’s mother begin to sob and quickly handed her a tissue from her own obi, that she’d had hidden away before leaving the hotel. She took one and dabbed her own eyes. Glancing up at Aaron’s strong face, she watched his jaw flex as he struggled to hold back his emotions. Looking straight ahead, she stared at the trees trying to keep from seeing the other people crying or the casket that held Aaron’s father. She gently squeezed his hand silently in understanding and support.
He squeezed her hand in return.
The rest of the afternoon was a complete blur and not one she looked forward to remembering. She had to excuse herself several times because the rituals were too shocking to her and she didn’t want to gasp or make a scene. They were now loading people into the cars and heading back to the house to celebrate Aaron’s father’s life. Edo had remained to take the family and Jemma back to the house. In the limo, no one said a word, yet she could feel Aaron’s eyes on her. She knew he had so many questions and truthfully, she did too.
The limousine pulled in front of the old hotel that served as Aaron’s childhood home. Edo opened the door and Margaret stepped out into the sunlight, entering the building. Aaron stared at her and she smiled sadly, meeting his gaze.
“Our talk has waited long enough – you should be with your mother today. One more day will not matter.”
“It’s because it has been so long that I am asking you to stay here at the hotel. We’ve got plenty of rooms available to maintain propriety.”
“My things are at the hotel in Kyoto.”
“They can be moved,” he argued quietly, his eyes staring at her.
“Aaron,” she whispered, understanding the desire to bond with the one person she’d considered her best friend for so very long. She’d always enjoyed their chats and now, seeing him brought about a chance to attach a voice and a face to the very words he’d typed.
“I’ve always wondered what you would sound like if you said my name,” he admitted softly and glanced at the open car door. She couldn’t help the way her stomach somersaulted at his sweet words. “Edo is waiting for us to get out of the car.”
“Are you certain you don’t need more time?” Jemma knew she was referring to his father’s passing and his need to grieve, but deep down inside there was also the question of whether or not either one of them was ready to see what their friendship could bring. It was not hard to be attracted to Aaron. He was a very handsome man – but did he think the same of her, or were the differences between them too much?
“I’m positive. I’ve waited long enough to meet you, JemC1995.”
Chapter 12
Jemma watched as Aaron stepped out of the limo and extended his hand towards her. Placing her hand in his, she stepped out into the sunlight and looked up at him. His dark hair was cut short in a very modern fashion, but the shape of his face and depth in his eyes told her that he’d faced turmoil head on… and won. His eyes were knowledgeable and fathomless, drawing her in. She saw his lips curl upwards as if he knew what she was thinking.
“This is absolutely insane,” she whispered.
“You’ve told me that before and it worked out. But yet, this may be insane,” he agreed, extending his arm towards her politely. “I would like to see where this all goes, don’t you?”
“What if this is a horrible decision?”
“Then we go back to being good friends that hide behind computer screens – wishing and wondering at what could have been. I seem to recall thinking that American women were chicken. Are you admitting that I was actually right?”
“No, you were completely wrong then- and you are still wrong,” Jemma retorted with a grin, putting her hand on his arm. Aaron said something in Japanese and Edo nodded briskly, getting into the driver’s seat.
“He’s going to collect your things from the hotel and you are welcome to stay here,” Aaron told her, stepping inside the house and kicking off his shoes. “The house is one of the oldest hotels in Kyoto. We are near the shrines and temples, so there will be plenty to see or explore here just like downtown.”
Jemma followed suit removing her shoes, thankful for the socks that prevented her from being barefoot on the mats that covered the flooring. His mother was in the kitchen starting a kettle of hot water and looked up in surprise when she saw Jemma. The older woman’s mouth formed a perfect O before she collected herself.
“Would you like some tea?” Margaret asked Jemma politely. Nodding shyly, she smiled at Aaron’s mother. It was a bit mortifying to be meeting people she’d only imagined in her mind. His mother looked nothing like how she’d pictured her.
Aaron indicated that Jemma should have a seat at the low table and stepped into the kitchen to gather a few plates. Opening the refrigerator, he took out a few containers and put them one at a time in the microwave. His mother smiled and shook her head, joining Jemma at the table.
“We’ll let him prepare lunch – but I will make our dinner,” Margaret teased. Jemma saw that she was trying to put on a brave face for her son, but the light in her eyes was crushed as she mourned the loss of her husband.
Jemma could only imagine what it was like to lose someone so close to you… and immediately looked at Aaron, trying to keep the horror and fear out of her own expression. What would she do if she lost the one person that was always there for her? Was she strong enough to say goodbye if necessary?
Swallowing her fear, Jemma gratefully accepted the hot tea and watched as Aaron set down plate after plate upon the table. He took a seat opposite of her, kneeling on the cushion.
Picking up the chopsticks as a challenge, Aaron smiled at her and quickly picked out several select pieces- placing them on Jemma’s plate. His mother got her chopsticks and served herself and Jemma stared at her set to the right of her plate warily. This wasn’t a cheap set of chopsticks that you snagged at a restaurant, the kind you split apart that come wrapped in paper. No, these were legit – enameled and smooth. As she picked them up and tried to grasp them, she was surprised to see his mother frowning at her son pointedly.
“Go get her a fork,” Margaret ordered her son in a voice that brooked no argument. His mother obviously ran a tight ship when it came to taking care of the guests and making sure their slightest comfort was met.
“No,” Jemma interrupted immediately. “I may be slow with these and look like I’m completely out of place – but I will manage if given enough time.”
“You are our guest. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“And you aren’t,” Jemma said smoothly and glanced at Aaron. “Challenge accepted.” His handsome face split into a wide smile that took her breath away. She liked the silence, the peacefulness, and the intimacy that having a small family meal brought. She’d never realized how noisy things could be back home until it was gone. Eventually, they began talking. Jemma found herself talking all about how she’d initially met Aaron online. She was surprised to hear how interested Margaret was in how they’d met, simply because she wasn’t used to getting so much support. She’d heard everything, every excuse, growing up.
There are weirdos online.
You don’t even know who it really is.
Fine, be a friend but live your life here.
People don’t meet like that – that is strange.
Jemma wasn’t knocking any of it- every statement was and could still be true. She also realized that Margaret was so interested because she was reliving the way she’d met Aaron’s father. The woman was hurting, broken, and clinging to what history she knew and remembered.
Jemma had a life back home in Bloomington. She had her family and her business. That was what she knew, lived, and loved. As teenagers, she and Aaron had chatted online, but that didn’t reflect true personalities or bad habits. They’d been so young and now
they knew better.
This was doomed before they ever had a chance and she knew it. This was never going to work and she was going to lose her best friend. She had a history of failed attempts at a relationship – why add one more? Especially a person she held so dear! She needed to sign the papers and get out of Japan fast before she lost her heart.
Aaron watched Jemma in utter fascination. He couldn’t get over how truly beautiful she was and how fortunate he was to have her dropped right in his lap. He believed in destiny. He believed in fate- and knew it was in his future to meet her someday. They’d always had a bond, the ability to understand each other when they chatted online… and now here she was- more lovely than anything he’d ever seen.
She was dressed in the black mofuku robes as a sign of respect. The traditional robes were a contrast against her pale complexion and dark brown hair. Her blue eyes were almost a shock against her skin, catching his attention and stunning him. She was graceful and feminine – all the things that she claimed she wasn’t as they’d talked via email or messenger.
Her words were that she was a weirdo, a loner, and an outcast. He didn’t see that at all – the only thing he saw in front of him was his best friend and it didn’t matter what she once claimed she was. The fact that he was completely attracted to her was a bonus he’d never expected.
He was forty-one years old and had never, ever, felt such a bond or desire like he felt right now. He wanted to hold Jemma’s hand. He craved to touch her hair and see if it was as smooth as it looked. He yearned to kiss her lips and breathe in her scent… all things he couldn’t do online or in front of his mother- especially today of all days.
The day he buried his father.
Putting down his chopsticks, Aaron felt awash with remorse and guilt. He shouldn’t feel so happy about meeting Jemma. The modern advances and changes he’d wanted to make growing up had caused strife between him and his father. Aaron had embraced technology wholeheartedly while his father had dug in his heels, inviting him to embrace his heritage. He’d found a way to incorporate the two of them, modern and traditional, by living there in Amanohashidate and working in Kyoto.
Tempting the Billionaire Page 8
