The Bento Box

by Olivia Gaines

“See, this is why your app will never work,” she told him. “Death is not impersonal. Death is one of the most personal moments in a human’s life. You can’t automate the steps of notification, internment, or the cremation process. It may just be a vessel to you, but that body held a hand when a relative or friend needed comfort. That body provided love on cold nights. That body baked cakes for birthdays and special occasions. There is no worse feeling than waking up and that body can no longer lay beside you.”

  It was a double-edged jab, and he felt it right in his center. He held the teacup as the pilot announced they were about to land. This feeling was new to him and he didn’t like it one bit.

  “Dr. Hathaway, I noticed you didn’t make a phone call to notify your family that you were leaving the country,” Koji said. “Wasn’t there anybody in Georgia to notice your absence?”

  Her lips had gotten tighter when she looked at him. “Yes, I called my father, brother, and Aunt Clara from the bedroom before I left,” she replied. “I also sent them images of you and Eldredge to let them know your faces and names should anything happen to me, but it doesn’t matter. My father always knows where I am.”

  Eldredge was interested in this portion of the conversation. “How, by tracking your phone?”

  “No, I have a chip in me that he can track,” she said.

  “What? What kind of father puts a tracking chip in his child?” Koji asked.

  “One that loves his daughter and understands this world enough to know a young black woman isn’t safe in this domain,” she said. “My life puts me on the road a great deal. Big cities, small rural towns, and men who don’t like the truth to be known, especially when a dead body is involved. It’s a safety precaution that has worked well.”

  “Did someone try to kidnap you?” Eldredge asked, fascinated.

  “Not really kidnap,” she said, almost chuckling. “I was investigating this case down in Irwington, Georgia, and these moonshiners...well, I got too close to the truth too fast. I had to hide out overnight in the woods because they were looking for me. Had it not been for the tracker, well, I don’t want to know how it could have ended.”

  The idea of her being in such danger hit Koji in the belly again. The tea soured in his tummy, and the thought of her father being notified that she’d been injured or worse nearly made him gag. He jumped up and ran to the bathroom just as the wheels touched the ground. His stomach wretched several times producing the two sips of tea he swallowed and clear liquid.

  “Get a grip on yourself, mate,” he said, looking in the mirror.

  “Koji, are you okay?” Trista asked.

  “Yeah, I should have eaten more last night,” he said, trying to cover the realization that he was honestly feeling something for the woman. It had been more than just sex. The stupid fucking blindfold, the connection, the desire to take care of her for more than just a weekend popped into his head.

  “Shite,” he mumbled at her words. He’d woken up without her in the bed beside him and the emptiness had rocked him a bit. Maybe he didn’t fully understand what he was asking for in the overall scheme of things. However, he could learn.

  “WELCOME BACK TO PARIS,” Koji said as Eldredge drove them through the crowded streets to his flat in the Aubervilliers off of Montfort.

  “This is a quaint community,” she said. “I see a great deal of multiculturalism in the area.”

  “Gentrification has pretty much passed it by,” Koji said. “The area has a mix of traditional French businesses and shops. I bought the flat when I was in college and never had the heart to sell it. The place is like a second home to me.”

  “Your first home is in London?”

  “Yes, I have a manor in Salisbury, in the town of Wiltshire, close to Stonehenge,” he said. “I also have a flat in Notting Hill.”

  “Oh, I loved that movie,” she said, looking at him with those eyes that made him want to go out and hunt for fresh meat to prove he was worthy of her warming his hearth. “Maybe one day I can see your flat in London.”

  “The flight is only an hour and a few bits,” he said. “How about we have breakfast in London tomorrow?”

  “Really?”

  “I will even make you breakfast myself,” he said, squeezing her fingers inside of his hand.

  Eldredge knew the signs. His boss was falling for the woman, which only meant trouble for them all, trouble the company and Koji Okada couldn’t afford. It was just for a weekend. They would play around and have some more hot sex, she would go back to her life of cadavers, and they would go back to making software to simplify the human condition.

  At least that’s what he hoped. If not, it was going to be a long year of soy saucing their way back and forth across the pond until Koji got tired or she called it off. At least, that’s how it usually went for the boss. He didn’t see any reason why this one would be any different.

  TRISTA LOVED THE SIMPLICITY of the apartment. The first thing she wanted was a hot shower and change clothes. Then she wanted to get out and walk about the city and inhale in the culture of France. Cheese. Croissants. Beignets. Hot coffee. Pastries. She would easily gain at least ten pounds before the day was over, but she planned to enjoy it all.

  If there was a museum close by, she would love to wander inside it as well. She had so little time at home to enjoy anything other than work. At 38 years old, there were days that she felt 58 and as if she had no time of her own. The idea of being a wife and mom crossed her mind on occasion, but if she gave up being the County Coroner, her brother and father would expect her to work in the morgue. That damned place had taken her teenage years, and she had no intention of giving it any more of her life.

  She hummed when she turned off the taps, stepping from the shower onto a heated mat. Plush towels hung from the rack which was also heated. She toweled off briskly, wrapping the material around her. In a few steps, she found herself in Koji’s bedroom. The scent of his cologne filled the air, and she almost crossed her legs thinking about the spanking and the intense orgasm he’d given last night.

  “Ooh chile, that man knows how to please a woman,” she said, digging a fresh pair of undies out of the bag. Dressing in a pair of black slacks with a soft cream sweater, Trista added a strand of pearls before exiting the bedroom.

  Koji sat at the table, dressed in a deep navy pair of jeans and a soft yellow button-down shirt. The normally gelled down black hair was loose and flowed freely around his face, and Trista gulped several times.

  “We have breakfast. I’m certain you’re hungry since you missed dinner last night,” he offered, getting to his feet to pull out a chair. “Is there anything in particular you want to do today?”

  “Yes,” she replied, taking a seat. “I want to stroll through the neighborhood, eat pastries, and sample cheese and wine, and if there’s a museum in walking distance, that would be great. I mean, that is if you have the time.”

  “Eldredge cleared my calendar for the next few days,” he offered, pouring her a cup of tea. “I’m all yours.”

  “I like the sound of that,” she said. “Is there anything in particular you’re looking forward to doing today?”

  “Yes; you,” he said, smiling.

  “Party time, party time,” she said, biting into a croissant.

  “You make this seem so easy,” Koji said.

  “Because it is,” Trista replied. “You man, me woman, we make boom-boom.”

  Koji chuckled. Her spirit refreshed his soul. “Boom-boom, and spank-spank,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her full mouth.

  “Me likey spank-spank. I never thought that kind of thing would ignite my fire, but man, I couldn’t wait for that hot poker,” she replied, grinning from ear to ear. “Just to make sure, you’re okay to go to the museum?”

  “It would be my honor to be your escort for the day,” Koji said. “Eat up so we can get the party going.”

  He didn’t know what it was about her, or if it simply hinged on her not demanding anything from him or ne
eding to be validated. The company was as wonderful as the woman. Even when she’d gotten angry at him earlier, she had tempered her responses with well thought out answers and counterpoints. Koji respected that.

  He respected Trista Hathaway even more.

  Chapter Six – A Bit of Meat

  EVERYWHERE THEY STOPPED, people commented on how attractive they were as a couple. Koji beamed with pride having her on his arm. He wanted to stop at several stores to make a special purchase for the lady, but Trista refused.

  “I was joking about the gift,” she said.

  “Trista, I want you to have something to remember us, this weekend, and our time together,” Koji said sliding his hand down her hip.

  “The marks on my ass from your belt are enough for me,” she said, making him laugh.

  “Did I hurt you?” Koji asked, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

  “It only hurt so good,” she replied, pulling him into an artesian shop of handcrafted leathers. “Look at these men’s wrist cuffs. I want to get one for you. Ooh, I like this one even better.”

  Trist selected an orb styled bracelet in obsidian and jade with diamond accents. She asked to see the bracelet and slipped it on his wrist. Koji’s eyes remained on Trista as she turned the bracelet back and forth on his wrist.

  “We’ll take it,” she told the salesclerk, passing her credit card over the counter.

  “You’re buying this for me?”

  She took a step forward, cupping his face in her hands, giving a light kiss to his lips. “I want you to have something to remember us, this weekend, and our time together,” she said, discretely patting his package.

  “Cheeky,” he replied.

  Trista paid for the bracelet, signing the receipt and slipping it in his pocket just in case there were any issues with the gift. The store clerk seized the opportunity to upsize the sale by offering a ring sizing.

  “A ring sizing for what?” Trista asked.

  “When he comes back for your engagement ring, Mademoiselle,” the salesclerk said. “Please, give me your hand so that I may get an accurate size for him.”

  “And no! I’ve been traveling and my fingers are swollen,” Trista said, trying to head for the door.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Koji said, catching her around the waist. “Come to the counter, my dear, and give the lady your finger.”

  “Both of you are going to get these hands plus a finger if you don’t stop playing,” Trista said.

  Koji touched his belt and shook his finger at Trista which made her blush like a schoolgirl with ringlets. Her left hand was given to the woman who sized her up perfectly, letting the gentleman know the ring size was a seven. A shiver ran down her back as she pulled away from him, leading him out the door.

  “Are you afraid of the commitment, the notion of a future with me, Dr. Hathaway, or is it the man?” he asked.

  “Koji, this weekend is all about the living in the moment. No plans for the future. A weekend to make love and break the stagnation in our lives. Simple. Easy,” she said, touching his arm.

  “Maybe I want more than just easy, Trista,” he said. “I like the feel of this. Of us.”

  It touched her in a way that years of longing for the intimate moments of being wanted and cared for had numbed her in the realm of hope. The reality of the hope was that he lived on another continent and she was the voice of the dead. Two worlds that were miles apart not only physically, but emotionally.

  “Museum, dinner, and a decadent dessert with that champagne you promised,” she said, taking his hand.

  “If that’s your wish,” he said, following along behind her down the sidewalk to the Musée Marmottan-Monet. The old building housed a Monet collection, the largest in the world, numbering 165 works, plus sketchbooks, palettes, and photos. A special circular room, he told Trista, had been created for the breathtaking late water lily canvases. Upstairs were works by Renoir, Manet, Gauguin, Caillebotte, and Berthe Morisot, along with 15th-century primitives, a Sèvres clock, and a collection of First Empire furniture.

  “This is amazing,” she said, crying in front of a painting of the Green Parasol of a woman sitting by a pond holding a green umbrella. “The loneliness in her eyes speaks to me.”

  Koji’s arm went around her shoulders. He planted a tender kiss on her temple, but the sound of his belly grumbling ruined the mood. He suggested they leave and head home for the night. It was the way he said “home” that also brought tears to her eyes.

  Trista sniffled all the way back to his flat, reprimanding herself for being silly, and chastising herself for wishing for what she knew she couldn’t have. She envisioned herself being the old woman, sitting by lake, watching her brother’s children playing and feeding the ducks. She would be alone with a stupid green parasol shielding her chemically saturated peeling skin from the sun. The tears only got worse as the sun set, and, on the patio inside of Koji’s flat, a dinner table for two had been set with strawberries, champagne, and giant slice of chocolate cake.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, wailing. “It’s all so perfect.”

  “Why are you crying, my dear? Isn’t this what you wanted?’

  “It is,” she said, flinging herself into his arms. “It’s everything I asked you for and more. I love it. I really do. Everything is just wonderful.”

  “So is the meal,” he said as a staff materialized with cucumber waters, tiny crystal dishes to dip her fingers in, and shrimp appetizers that melted on her tongue. They enjoyed the meal in silence, all the way to the dessert course with decadent rich coffee possibly shat out by monkeys in the mountains of the Himalayas that would make her twitch for the rest of the night.

  “Chocolate cake and caffeine. Lord, I may not be able to sleep at all tonight,” she said, leaning back in the chair patting her belly.

  “I don’t know if I can handle you three nights in a row,” Koji chuckled. “I think my cock may go on strike.”

  “It’s okay, Baby. We can just cuddle tonight. Ms. Kitty is feeling kind of banged up as well,” she said. “How about a hot shower? You wash my back, and I caress your nuts.”

  Koji started to laugh, a gut-busting ruckus laugh that made his nuts tingle. “Hell, you keep making me laugh like this and my bollocks might be ready for a little action,” he confessed.

  “You smack my ass again and suck on these titties, and who knows, you might mess up and end up being a father,” she said, laughing along with him, but his laughter stopped.

  The idea of having a child with her didn’t sound funny to him at all. It wasn’t a laughing matter, and Koji Okada found no humor in it in the least, mainly because he suddenly realized the idea wasn’t so far-fetched that he couldn’t long for such a possibility. Then an image of her bare, her belly rounded with the life of his child growing inside of her from the love they’d made forced him to catch his breath.

  “Bloody hell, Trista,” he said, rising from the table.

  “What did I do?”

  “Every goddamned thing right, and now you’re making me want shite I can’t have, with a woman I shouldn’t be with, craving a life that can’t belong to either of us,” Koji said. “One weekend to make love and have fun seemed like a simple request, and now the thought of sending you home alone without me seems like it will be torture to my soul.”

  Trista understood mental suffering and how to read body language. She didn’t need words to offer him comfort. Her body, in a non-sexual manner, would be his respite as she held him close.

  “Koji, your bathroom has a deep tub which can easily seat four people,” she said, taking his hand. “Let’s run a bath and soak for a while, put on a bit of soft music, and be in the moment. Just us. In this moment.”

  He didn’t argue, just allowed her to lead him down the hall. In the tub, his back was against the side wall, and her back rested against his chest. Her fingers lazily stroked up and down his leg, and he held her. The tears formed in Trista’s eyes because he was right. It was just too goddamn
perfect to let it die.

  There was no way her Southern Baptist father and tried and true, one step under the Black Panther movement brother would accept an Asian man as her life partner. She lied about sending her brother and father a photo of the two men. If she had, they would have protested and made her life miserable by calling every hour on the hour. The weekend was supposed to be fun, a break in the routine to get away from it all and enjoy the spoils of the hard work they did day in and day out. The problem was, and he knew it as well, sitting in the tub together at the end of the day could be a life that was within reach. A life they both wanted.

  “We can talk about it tomorrow,” she said softly. “A good night’s sleep puts everything into perspective.”

  His perspective had already changed. Koji Okada had spent the entire day without looking at his phone. Not one phone call, text, or tweet had he sent, read, or responded to in the course of nearly ten hours. Nothing was falling apart or ending in his company, and people were still living their lives while he sat in a tub of lukewarm water with a woman he barely knew and yet couldn’t imagine how he would live his life without her.

  The issue nagged at him like having a bit of meat stuck in his back tooth that he was unable to reach with a toothpick. An hour later, with the help of a wad of gum, the meat was dislodged but that funky taste lingered for the rest of the afternoon. This would also linger in his mind. He needed to sleep on this one.

  “Tomorrow,” he repeated as the night ended without words. Trista lay cradled in his arms in a darkened room in the one bedroom flat on 11e in the Aubervilliers. He, with his legs intertwined with hers, held onto the moment they created, never wanting to let go.

  Chapter Seven –Noodles

  THE CLOCK READ 7:30 am Paris time. Trista didn’t know what time it was in America, and right now she didn’t care. Koji was tugging on her arm, trying to get her to wake up, but the champagne from last night, coupled with all of the emotions coursing through her and the man, had taken its toll on her physically. Or it could have been the jet lag.