Sophie and Jake (Passports and Promises)

by Abigail Drake

  “I can’t calm down. This is so much fun. I get to spend a whole week with you, and I get to see my sister. It’s going to be amazing.”

  “You’re amazing,” he said, giving me a kiss on my nose. “But I’m worried about the fact Sam has no idea I’m coming. Don’t you think it’ll be a shock?”

  I shook my head. “No. It’ll be a nice surprise. She likes you. It’ll be cool. I promise.”

  I didn’t tell him part of the reason I hadn’t told Sam about Jake coming was because I feared she might refuse to go along with it. I had no idea about her emotional state at the moment. She might be fine, but it sounded like she still stood on shaky ground.

  “And she’s dating some Scottish guy? A rugby player?”

  “I’m not sure if she’s dating him exactly,” I said. “I think she likes him, though. Does it bother you?”

  He thought about it. “No. Not really.” He paused, giving me a little shrug. “Life is short. Who am I to judge? She should grab whatever happiness she can and hold onto it tight. Don’t you agree?”

  I gave his arm a squeeze. “One hundred percent. I’m grabbing my happiness right now. Do you feel it?”

  He laughed, and settled in to watch a movie. He didn’t bring up Sam again, but the closer we got to Japan, the more worried I became. What if Sam got mad at me for bringing Jake? What if she resented the fact I’d kept my relationship with Jake a secret for five long months? What if she refused to read the letter Jake carried securely tucked into a pocket of his backpack?

  So many possible outcomes. The one I didn’t expect? Sam would nearly faint as soon as she caught sight of my boyfriend. In all the scenarios I’d worked out in my head, that one never came up. Not once.

  I saw her from across the room, taller than most of the Japanese people around her, and standing out even more because of her long, honey-brown hair. Her eyes went to Jake, and all the color instantly drained from her face. To my surprise, she disappeared. I ran up to where she’d been, thinking she might be flat out on the floor. Instead, I found her sitting hunched over in a chair, her head between her knees, looking like she was trying to stave off a full-blown panic attack.

  I knelt next to her. “Sam. Are you okay?” She lifted her head cautiously, like moving too quickly could be dangerous. I gasped when I saw the expression on her face. She looked…lost. “I’m so sorry. We thought it would be a nice surprise.”

  Sam’s eyes went from my face to the boy standing behind me. “Jake?”

  He nodded. “Hi, Sam.”

  She turned back to me, her expression bewildered. “He looks so much like Dylan.”

  I started crying for my poor sister. I couldn’t help it. “I never thought that would happen. Oh, Sam. We didn’t mean to upset you.”

  She held me close, so close I felt her body tremble, and her heart pound. She’d grown very thin, and seemed oddly fragile, too, like one of the delicate porcelain teacups Mom only brought out for special occasions. If I squeezed her too hard, I feared she might snap. “It’s okay. It was…a shock,” she said.

  Understatement of the year. “I bet. I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “Me, too,” said Jake. He looked over at the carousel. “I’ll grab our suitcases. I’ll be right back.”

  I wrapped my arms around her waist and she kissed the top of my head. “Oh, gosh. So you and Jake…”

  “Yep. Me and Jake,” I said. “I friended him on Facebook, and it sort of developed from there. Having someone to talk to helped both of us.”

  She frowned. “Does Mom know he’s here?”

  “Uh, yeah. The Hunters know, too. They all wanted us to warn you ahead of time, but I insisted it would be more fun as a surprise. I’m such an idiot. I should have listened to them. Your face, when you saw him…oh, man.”

  Jake came back, suitcases in hand, and Sam stood up and gave him a hug. “Welcome, Jake. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too,” he said.

  We piled into a taxi, and Sam pointed out different things on the way to Jake’s hotel. Kyoto was gorgeous, and I couldn’t wait to explore every nook and cranny, but I was worried about my sister. Although she seemed to function normally, and some of the color had come back to her cheeks, something was seriously wrong.

  Sam’s apartment, shoebox tiny, barely looked big enough for one person, let alone two. Her roommate, Hana, kindly agreed to stay with a friend for a few days so Sam and I could have some time alone together, and I was glad she did. I needed time with my sister. I had much to explain, but I also wanted to reassure myself she was okay.

  “Ugh. I smell like stale airplane air and peanuts. Do you mind if I shower?”

  “Sure,” she said, and as she took off her jacket, I realized her hands shook. I clasped them in my own. They felt ice cold and somehow seemed like a physical sign of my sister’s current emotionally fragile state.

  She was a mess, it was obvious, and I’d just made things worse. A lot worse.

  “I should have told you about Jake coming.”

  Her dark eyes grew sad. “Yes, you should have.”

  “I was afraid you might say no.”

  She sighed, and it sounded a bit like a sob. “True, but it’ll be fine.”

  “He needed to come, Sam. And you needed to see him. Trust me.”

  “Yeah, all right,” she said, her back stiff as she handed me a towel and showed me to the bathroom. “Get cleaned up, Soph. We’ll talk later.”

  I took a shower in her tiny bathroom, which consisted of a moveable shower nozzle attached to a hose hanging at knee height on the wall. A mirror hung on the wall, right next to the shower nozzle (giving me a lovely view of my naked knees), and a plastic stool sat on the floor right above a drain. A tall soaking tub sat on one side and occupied nearly half the room. The tub looked tempting, but I knew I had to be quick. We planned to meet Jake for dinner soon, and he wanted to give Sam the letter from Dylan. I had no idea how she’d react, and, by the time I finished my shower, my stomach had turned into a jumble of nerves.

  Sam and I chatted, falling into our old pattern of banter and teasing. She asked me questions about Jake, and I answered her, leaving out the parts about Mrs. Hunter not liking me at first, and about getting caught post coitus in the cabin. I didn’t feel any need to bring it up. First of all, I didn’t want Sam to feel guilty about how Mrs. Hunter treated me initially. Secondly, in spite of what Jake had promised, I still didn’t find the whole cabin incident something I could laugh about. Not yet at least. Yikes. It was still way too fresh.

  We walked together to Jake’s hotel, enjoying the sounds of Japanese folk music coming out of a little general store near Sam’s apartment. The weather was still cool, but it carried a breath of spring in it. The smell of something delicious cooking at a street vendor’s stall made me pause.

  “That smells good,” I said, and Sam bought me some of the fried, savory treats. I moaned in delight. “Oh, yum. What in the heck is this?”

  “Taco yaki,” she said. “Octopus balls.”

  I tripped on an uneven brick in the sidewalk, and nearly spit out what was in my mouth. “No way,” I said, horrified.

  She paused, staring at me in confusion, before she burst out laughing. “Not actual balls, silly. They’re fritters shaped like a ball. The Japanese equivalent of a hushpuppy.”

  I nodded, examining the fritters more carefully. “I thought they looked way too big to be the actual balls from an octopus.” I frowned. “Do octopi even have balls? I have no idea.”

  “Don’t know, don’t care,” she said, putting an arm around my shoulder. “And I certainly don’t want to taste them.”

  “Me neither.” I saved a few fritters for Jake. He grinned when he saw me.

  “I’m glad you fed her,” he said. “She’s not pleasant when she’s hungry. I’ve started carrying snacks around with me. Kind of a preventative measure.”

  Sam laughed. “Good plan.”

  “Ha, ha,” I said. “Funny. Here, Jake. Taste th
is.” I shoved an octopus fritter in his mouth, waited until he chewed it up, before speaking again. “Octopus balls. Aren’t they yummy?”

  Sam and I both giggled at the expression on his face. I had to give him credit, though. At least he didn’t spit it out. Sam took pity on him, and explained, which was nice of her. I’d planned to keep it a secret as long as possible.

  We had dinner at a place serving shabu-shabu. A waitress brought us thinly sliced portions of raw meat and vegetables on a large serving platter. We cooked everything ourselves in a steaming pot set on a burner in the center of the table.

  “This is so good,” I said, dipping a piece of meat into a savory sauce and then popping it into my mouth using chopsticks.

  “It’s also onomatopoeic,” said Sam. “The name shabu-shabu comes from the sound you make as you cook it. The Japanese are the masters of onomatopoeia. They use it a great deal in their language.”

  “Thank you, sensei,” I said, giving her a little bow. “Oh, I’m so full and happy.”

  Sam asked if we wanted to take a walk after dinner. I demurred, knowing Jake wanted to speak with Sam on his own, and give her the letter from Dylan. Sam looked immediately suspicious, but I insisted. When they dropped me off at Sam’s apartment, Jake gave me a quick hug, leaning close to whisper in my ear.

  “Are you sure I’m doing the right thing?” he asked softly. “I don’t want to make things worse for your sister.”

  “You aren’t,” I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “She needs this. I just know it.”

  Sam waited on the street for Jake, shooting us impatient glances. I gave him a little push in her direction, but, as I watched them walk away, I wondered if I’d made the right decision. Would this help, or make things even harder for poor Sam? I guessed we’d soon find out.

  Chapter 28

  ~Jake~

  The small river ran snakelike through the city, and resembled what we’d call a creek back home. Bridges spanned the narrow waterway, some arched and elegant, some plain, crossing at various points to connect the city together. As the sun set in the sky, and lights turned on in the shops and homes around us, I turned to Sam. Unfortunately, I had no idea where to start.

  “Was there something you wanted to tell me, Jake?”

  “It’s obvious, huh?”

  She nodded, leading me to a bench by the river. I sat down and reached into my pocket, pulling out the letter from Dylan.

  “This is from my brother. I read it first. I hope you don’t mind. He asked me to read it. I showed it to Sophie, too, since he requested that, too. He wasn’t exactly…” I cleared my throat. “He wasn’t himself, and I thought I’d better give it to you in person. As a favor to Dylan.”

  She took it from me with a shaking hand, and placed it on her lap, stroking it gently with her fingers. “You did the right thing, Jake. Do you mind if I read it later?”

  I nodded and we sat, staring at the dark water of the river. Suddenly, I opened my mouth and the whole story of Dylan’s illness came pouring out of me. The floodgates opened, and I needed to talk, to have someone understand the pain, the darkness, and the hopelessness of it all.

  And only Sam could. She’d seen the worst of it with her own two eyes.

  Dylan hadn’t always been depressed, and he hadn’t wanted to live the way he did, but blaming him for his sickness was like blaming a cancer patient for theirs. I wanted Sam to understand, to know what he went through. I told her how it began, way back in middle school, and how it progressed to become an all-encompassing part of his life. When I finally finished, she squeezed my arm, blinking away tears.

  “I’m so sorry, Jake. And I made it so much worse.”

  I looked at her in shock. This was not where I’d been going with my story at all. She totally missed my point. “The time you came to our house was the happiest I’d seen him. In years. You were a gift, Sam.”

  She put her head in her hands, and hunched forward, her elbows on her knees. “Oh, Jake. I wasn’t a gift. I was more like a curse. It’s all my fault.”

  I stared at her a long moment before giving her a gentle pat on the back. She turned to look at me, her face pinched from grief and her eyes awash with tears, and I knew I’d done the right thing coming here with Sophie. My big brother had loved this girl, and as a final gift to him, I had to help her heal.

  “You’ve got it all wrong. That’s part of the reason I came to Japan. Part of the reason my parents and your parents allowed me to come. Read the letter, Sam. My hotel is only a few blocks away. I can get there on my own. I’ll be there if you need me. If not, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I left her there, on the bench by the slow, meandering river, and walked back to the hotel. Sophie called me as soon as I got to my room, her timing impeccable, as always.

  “How did it go?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “I gave her the letter, and I think it was the right thing to do.”

  “I’m sure it was,” she said. “This is what Sam needed. Trust me.”

  It turned out Sophie was right, as always. Over the next few days, as we explored Kyoto with Sam, I saw her heal more and more, almost with each passing hour. When she took us to her favorite garden, Ryoanji, I knew, without a doubt she was going to be okay. I learned something else, too. I was going to be okay as well.

  Ryoanji was not at all what I expected. Simple and plain, the garden in the heart of the complex didn’t have a single living thing inside it. It consisted only of sand and stones, but, somehow, it seemed alive. And there was something else.

  “I feel Dylan here,” I said softly. “In this place.”

  It was like he hovered somewhere near me, in the quiet stillness of these ancient walls. I closed my eyes and just experienced it, missing him so much it hurt.

  Sam put an arm around my shoulders. “I do, too,” she said. Sophie, sitting on my other side, leaned close to me, and we all wept silently together. Oddly enough, when we finished, I didn’t seem as sad anymore. Feeling Dylan near me in that garden, as crazy as it sounded, made it easier for me to find the strength to finally let him go.

  As we walked back to Sam’s dorm room, a tall man with a mane of wild hair came toward us. As soon as I saw him, I knew it had to be the Scottish guy Sophie mentioned, not so much from his appearance, but Sam’s reaction to him. Her cheeks flushed, her whole body tensed, and she spoke with him in a hesitant, nervous way—like she was afraid she might say the wrong thing and scare him away.

  Something was going on between them, no doubt. She introduced us, and he seemed friendly and cordial…to Sophie and me. The way he acted toward Sam was, however, a different story.

  “Are you feeling better?” she asked, leaning toward him like she wanted to reach out and touch him.

  He could barely look at her, and when he spoke, his words were clipped and cold. “I’m fine,” he said. “It was naught but a wee cold. No need to fuss.”

  Sophie’s face glowed at the sound of his accent. “Sam told me you’re from Edinburgh, but you go to university in St. Andrew’s. That is so cool. I’ve always wanted to see Scotland.”

  “You should,” he said, warming to Sophie like almost everyone did. “It’s beautiful.”

  “And you play rugby, right?” I asked. “Sam said you’re really good. Can we watch you play sometime?”

  “Sam is quite the source of information. Of course, you can come and watch. We have a match tomorrow.”

  “Awesome,” said Sophie. She looked star-struck, not that I blamed her. Even I felt a little enthralled. It wasn’t only his looks, or the Scottish burr in his voice. There was something so nice about him, something direct and honest in his blue gaze. I automatically wanted to be his friend. He was just that kind of guy.

  I watched as Sam attempted to join the conversation with him. Ouch. So painful, it made me cringe. She tried so hard, but he wasn’t making it easy on her. Not even a little.

  “We’re getting together Friday,” she said. “K
ind of a goodbye party. Jake and Sophie are leaving on Sunday. Do you want to come?”

  When he hesitated, Sophie grabbed his arm. “Please come. It’ll be a blast. We’re going dancing, and I heard you’re a fabulous dancer.”

  “And I suppose that information came from Sam as well.”

  Sam’s cheeks turned even pinker, but Thomas finally relented. He promised he’d come, and said goodbye, and, as we watched him go, Sophie responded in her normal fashion. By smacking her sister in the arm and saying, “Oh, my God, Sam. He’s so hot.”

  Before Sam could respond, Sophie ran off to grab a snack from a vending machine. She’d become obsessed with the offerings in Japanese vending machines, especially the iced coffee. It had become kind of thing with her.

  As Sophie studied the contents of the machine, just out of earshot, Sam’s gaze locked on me, her face worried. “I feel like I should explain. Maybe even apologize. I didn’t intend to fall for Thomas,” she said. “Not that it matters now, since he hates my guts, but I honestly never met for it to happen. I spent months pushing him away. And, after Dylan died…”

  Her voice trailed off, and her lips trembled. She’d been torturing herself, and my heart went out to her. “Look, Sam, we all have guilt. I think it’s a normal part of the whole grieving process.”

  She put a hand to her forehead, pushing a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail out of her eyes. “What would you have to feel guilty about?” she asked. “You’re like the perfect brother.”

  I let out a laugh. “Not even close,” I said. “I resented so much about his illness. I felt like it was a character weakness, if he were only stronger, or loved us more, he could overcome it and be ‘normal’ again. He pissed me off when he couldn’t get better, and I hated going to visit him, having to put on a nice face to make things easier for my parents. It caused a lot of issues with my mom, too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I looked at her in surprise. “Sophie didn’t tell you?” We both glanced over at Sophie, who seemed perplexed by the variety of choices available at the machine. I had a feeling this might take some time. Food was important to Sophie. She wanted to make the right decision. Choosing the wrong snack food threw her off for hours.