The Daydreamer Detective Opens a Tea Shop
Page 26
I gathered the last of the dirty teacups and brought them to the back room. Piling them into the sink, I sighed at the enormity of dishes in front of me this evening. I loved my job, especially with all the good Oshabe-cha did for the surrounding elderly population, but dirty dishes I could live without. Someday, we would renovate this back room and install a real dishwasher, but that day was not today.
For a moment, I drifted off on dreams of loading the dishwasher, pressing a button, and walking out for the evening. Wouldn’t that be great?
Resting my hand on my belly, I wondered if the baby was sleeping. He or she was quiet during the day while I was busy and dancing around at night when I was exhausted. Now, the baby’s movements were more like extended fluttering and less like kicking and punching, but I still noticed every single instance. And I loved it.
I took a moment while thinking about the baby to rest my eyes on my most recent painting. This one had actual potential, and I was excited to get back to it.
Over the past two months, I had started and given up on several new landscapes. I’d finished the pine forest landscape for Chiyo, and the giant canvas hung in the men’s washroom at Kutsuro Matsu. Then I had been waylaid by wedding plans and our honeymoon in Paris.
Since we returned in June, I used every last gram of energy I had to run the tea shop. There was no time for painting things I was unhappy with. But this one inspired me. My rough outline carved a wooded cliff into the foreground, a valley stretching to a craggy mountain in the back. Two suns rose over the alien landscape, and a giant planet hung over the plain on the left.
Growing up, I’d read plenty of science fiction and fantasy manga, but I always left that love in books and movies, never transferring it to my art. Bubbles of excitement stirred in my chest as I closed my eyes and imagined this world, the brisk wind whipping over the trees, the rain falling in the morning, the ghostly light of the planet when the suns were set.
“And we’re done for the day,” Saya said, ending her lesson in the other room. I snapped out of my daydream and glanced at the clock. 17:50? Where did the day go? I grabbed my rag and returned to the front room.
“Ah! You beat me again,” Shigimo said, throwing his arms up. He was one of my first elderly clients along with Murata, and he came to the tea shop several times per week. The Go board in front of him was a mess of white and black chips, and the young high school boy who sat across from Shigimo tried not to celebrate. Tsutomo had been coming once a week on Friday afternoons to play Go with the older gentlemen who’d show up here. I loved that my tea shop catered to both young and old, women and men. I just needed a cat or dog, and I’d have all the bases covered.
“Tomo-chan, I hope you aren’t cheating,” I said, winking at the young man.
He cracked a smile and feigned surprise. “Mei-san, I would never do such a thing.”
“Such an upstanding young man, you are.”
We both laughed as he cleaned up the game and handed the Go set to Shigimo.
“Do you need dinner tonight?” I asked, waving to the leftover bento boxes in the refrigerated case. There were only three left over from lunchtime, and I always marked them down fifty percent at the end of the day.
“No, thank you, Mei-san. I’m meeting my parents at Sawayaka for dinner. They both have the evening off.” He smiled as he bowed to me, and my pregnancy hormones spiked, bringing tears to my eyes. Tsutomo was a good kid, but he was lonely. He didn’t have a lot of friends at school, and his parents both worked at strange hours. His mother was a nurse, and his father worked in a factory an hour’s drive away.
He cringed as his eyes met mine. “I’m sorry?”
I laughed, wiping the tears from my cheeks and waving him away. “It’s the pregnancy, not you. I cry at the strangest things now. I saw a little girl feeding birds in the park the other day, and the whole scene made me cry.” I laughed again, and Murata joined me, laughing too. “You enjoy your dinner with your parents. I may see you there later.”
We bowed to each other, and he left the tea shop, shaking his head. I waved goodbye to everyone else as they filed out the door, and Saya said she was looking forward to coming back the next week. Another successful Craftday complete!
“Would you like me to walk you home, Murata-san?” Heading to the closet to get her shawl, I let my gaze linger over the blank space on the wall, the place I planned to hang my newest painting when it was completed. I was sure the alien landscape would stir conversation, and if I was lucky, maybe it’d even find a buyer.
“No, thank you, dear,” Murata responded, following me. “I’m feeling revived after that crochet lesson. I’m going to go home and keep practicing. I will take a bento box though.”
“Of course! I’ll pack one up for you.”
I handed Murata her shawl, packed a bento box into her bag, and saw her to the door. The heat hit us like a wall of jungle air.
“Oof, it’s another hot one,” I said, walking her to the corner where I could watch her walk the length of the block around to her apartment building.
“Did you hear we’re expecting typhoons soon? Maybe within the next two weeks.”
“I did. I watched the weather this morning before opening.” The weatherman with his long stick and big red dot went on and on about the low-pressure systems to the south of us, but I was sure it would rain like every other storm this summer. Wasn’t Japan wet enough? I had the dehumidifiers running twenty-four hours a day back at Mom’s house otherwise mold would grow in the shoes in the closets.
“It’ll be exciting!” she chimed, and I tried not to roll my eyes. How many typhoons had I lived through since my youth? Dozens, if not hundreds. It would be a nuisance, and that was about it.
“Be careful walking home.” I bowed to her and waited the long five minutes for her to walk the length of the block and disappear around the corner.
Back inside Oshabe-cha, all the chatter of the day was gone. Everyone had left for the night, and the space had become mine once again.
I locked the door, grabbed a bento from the case, and sat at the table nearest the register. Sitting at these low tables was becoming difficult, even with my tiny belly. Something about the way the bump sat on my long torso did not help. I either had to lean away from the table or maneuver my belly underneath it, both of which were not exactly comfortable. So instead, I sat turned from the table and rested with my back against the wall eating a leftover rice ball.
I was gathering strength for the thirty minutes of dishwashing in front of me. But at least when I was done, I could catch the bus and have dinner with Yasahiro at Sawayaka. Then I could go to bed early. Ah, I couldn’t wait.
Just as I was about to stand up and attend to my dishwashing, movement at the front door caught my eye, and someone rapped on the glass with their knuckles. I couldn’t see who it was except to spot the bottom of a wide black skirt and black plastic clogs.
I hefted myself out of my seat and made my way to the door, knowing that whoever was there saw me sitting inside. There was no way I could pretend to be in the back and not hear them, though I wanted to get back to work. But as I came to the door, a smile blossomed on my face.
“Akai-san! Long time, no see. How are you?” I unlocked the door and pushed it open to my hacker friend, Akai. It was always interesting seeing her in street clothes instead of her usual housecoat. In a skirt and plain red top, she appeared to be a normal human being, capable of interacting with the world outside her computers.
I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, not since bumping into her at a summer festival where we chatted about her neighbors and laughed while Yasahiro and Goro, my police friend, and his wife, Kumi, wandered among the stalls. Kumi had been almost at full-term then. She gave birth only three weeks later to their first son, Taiga.
“Hi, Mei-san. I hadn’t been here to see your place yet, so I thought it was time for me to finally stop in.” She entered Oshabe-cha, looking left and right, checking the floors, the tables, even peering up at the ceiling. I
tried not to laugh at her need for order. I lived an organic lifestyle of haphazard disorder. Akai bordered on obsessive-compulsive. “It’s really cute. I like what you’ve done with the place. This used to be a…” She snapped her fingers.
“A brush maker’s store.”
“Riiiiight. I forgot about that man. Bet he’s living a cushy life now.”
I smiled as she set her bag down next to a table. Hmmm, I guessed she planned on staying?
“So, uh, look, I know you’re closed.”
“You can stop by anytime, Akai-san. I don’t mind.” I tried to sound as welcoming as possible even as I pictured the dishes in the back sink teetering over.
“Well, I purposely came when no one else was here. You know I don’t like… people.” Her lip curled, and she growled. “I’m willing to do all the town festivals because of the food, but that’s about it.”
I laughed. “The food is the best part.”
“It is.”
She sighed as she sat down, and I took that as a sign. I would be late to finish up here tonight.
“I guess something is on your mind,” I said, picking up the discarded cushions and stacking them against the wall.
“The tables are turned, Mei-san. I need your help.”
Her face fell into a deep frown, and worry pains shot through my chest. The baby stirred, sensing something was up. If Akai was coming to me for help, it must be serious.
“Okay. Let’s talk while I wash dishes.”
Purchase The Daydreamer Detective Returns A Favor now!
Also in the Miso Cozy Mysteries Series
The Daydreamer Detective
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The Daydreamer Detective Braves The Winter
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Ozoni and Onsens: A Daydreamer Detective Novella
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The Daydreamer Detective Opens A Tea Shop
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The Daydreamer Detective Returns A Favor
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About the Author
Stephanie (S. J.) is a writer, knitter, amateur astrologer, Capricorn, and Japanophile. She loves foxes, owls, sushi, yoga pants, Evernote, and black tea. When she’s not writing, she’s thinking about writing or spending time outside, unless it’s winter. She hates winter. Someday she’ll own a house in both hemispheres so she can avoid the season entirely. She’s a mom to two great kids and lives with her husband and family outside NYC. They have no pets. Yet. When it comes to her work, expect the unexpected. She doesn’t write anything typical.
Find her online at…
www.spajonas.com