Chapter Nine
On Sunday, Mika waited at the Portland airport in baggage claim. Five times she’d checked her phone already, tracking Penny and Thomas’s flight. It had been early, landed twenty minutes ago. But no sign of them yet. What if Penny had changed her mind? What if Thomas had changed Penny’s mind? She scanned the crowds. A young kid, parents smiling behind him, ran toward an older couple. “Grandpa, Grandma!” he cried. A slim guy dropped his duffel and embraced some dude in a beanie. A dark-haired girl with a bounce in her step walked alongside a tall, handsome man. It all came together in her mind, a car crash of a revelation.
Penny and Thomas. They were here. Finally.
Mika’s smile widened. A warm feeling spread inside her, serotonin peaking. Penny saw Mika and raced forward. Mika thought of movies she’d seen in which children take their first steps, parents holding out their arms. Penny stopped short of Mika, and they stared at each other. There should be some other music playing, Mika thought. Piano. A love song. The day suddenly took on a hazy, soft quality as if in a dream.
Penny spoke first. “Can I hug you?” she asked shyly.
“Yes, please.” Mika opened her arms, and Penny stepped forward into them. She kept her touch light even though she wanted to squeeze, to hold on tight, to never let go again, to live there. Mika was filled with so much desire to love she might burst.
Thomas sauntered over to them, and it was like a dark cloud had shifted over the sun.
Penny pulled away. Thomas nudged his daughter. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen you speechless,” he said, warmth in his tone. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.
Mika forced herself to make eye contact with him. She should have braced herself. Sharp cheekbones. Light green eyes. Messy dark hair on the longer side but trimmed nicely, with the slightest hint of salt and pepper. Thomas was attractive. Hot. So much no. Nope. Never. Mika chastised herself. Feeling deeply uncomfortable, her face grew warm.
“Thom, so nice to meet you. Mika.” She stuck out her hand.
“Thomas,” he corrected, all that warmth for Penny bleeding from his voice. They shook hands, his grip firm and sure—Mika’s clammy and soft, dead fish–like.
“I’m so terrified and thrilled right now. I’m not even sure where to start.” Penny’s nails were short and painted bright pink. She wore a ring on her right middle finger and twisted it.
Mika turned her attention to Penny, still feeling the heat from Thomas’s stare. “Let’s get your luggage and some food. Sound good?”
“Perfect,” Penny said.
Mika smiled. So did Penny. It was like looking in a mirror. Like seeing Mika at age sixteen, seeing herself young and hopeful, seeing her before.
* * *
“You sure you don’t want some help?” Thomas shifted impatiently in the parking garage. Cars beeped, and engines started. A faint scent of exhaust clung to the air. The weather was okay, though, the sun shining. It was one of those days that made it hard to be in a bad mood. Well, hard for some people. Thomas seemed to have perfected quiet and brooding no matter the weather. He’s a real trouper that way.
“No, I’ve got it.” Mika fumbled with the keys. She’d borrowed Charlie’s car, a used Volvo, to drive Penny and Thomas around in. It was an upgrade from her own rusted Corolla with duct tape holding together a side mirror after an unfortunate collision with a tree. Only, the battery seemed to have spontaneously died on the key fob, and Mika had to do things the old-fashioned way, i.e., use the actual keys. She’d managed to unlock the doors but couldn’t find the trunk release. “It’s fine.”
“Yes. You’ve said that six times already.” Thomas shifted on his feet.
“I just never use the trunk, that’s all,” Mika said, half inside the car, bent over the front seat and acutely aware her ass was in the air, and both Penny and Thomas were watching her. “Hold on, I think I’ve almost got it.” But really, she had removed her phone and was texting Charlie. How do you open your fucking trunk?
“Here, let me.” Thomas’s voice was closer. Mika put her phone facedown and straightened. They were nearly chest to chest. Thomas’s mouth twisted in the dimness of the garage. “May I?”
“Oh, um, sure, I guess,” Mika said, visibly embarrassed with herself. She shuffled back next to Penny near the trunk.
Thomas folded his long body and peered into the cab. “Here it is,” he said way too quickly. Through the back window, Mika watched him pull a lever. The trunk popped open.
“He’s awesome with cars,” Penny said. Thomas came back, a smirk on his face, exuding superiority.
He eased open the trunk. “Thought you said you never used this?” he drawled.
“What?” Mika came to his side, careful to keep a foot of distance between them. Great. Charlie had forgotten to clean out the trunk, which contained: an emergency roadside kit, some dry cleaning, and a box full of CDs, marked “To donate.”
Thomas picked a CD from the top of the pile. “Slow jams, music to make love to,” the cover read. He tilted his head at her, squinting his eyes the tiniest bit.
Mika plucked the CD from his hands and threw it back on the pile. She shut the trunk. “I think we’ll just use the back seat for your bags.”
A tiny pouty dent formed between Thomas’s eyebrows. “Put the luggage in the back seat? The wheels are dirty.”
“Bags in the back seat are fine. I’ll sit with them. I fit easily into small spaces,” Penny said, sharing a smile with Mika. They were the same height, just under five-two. Mika didn’t know how tall Caroline was, but Thomas was over six feet at least. Now it was Mika’s turn to feel smug. I gave her that, her height, her slight frame, she thought.
Thomas made a noise in his throat. “Great.”
“Great,” Penny said as Thomas began to place the bags in the back seat. “Let’s go to lunch. Fair warning, I’ve been on a wicked training regimen, and I am taking a break. I’ll be playing it fast and loose with food today.” She rubbed her hands together, an I-came-to-play smile on her face. “Get ready to see some things.”
* * *
Thomas visually shuddered when Mika pulled up to the curb, parking near Cartlandia, a mecca of food trucks. Seeing this, her happiness index level upped. His favorite meal is probably untoasted bread.
“I think there’s something for everyone here,” Mika said as they stepped from the vehicle. The air was spiced with curry, miso, and roasted meats. Over thirty food trucks were permanently parked in the space. White tents had been pitched with folding tables underneath.
Penny and Mika strode forward, and Thomas followed behind, arms folded—a sign of his peaceful protest. They agreed to take a reconnaissance lap, scoping out what might be good. Penny and Mika happily chattered between reading menus. Turns out, Penny hated Jack Kerouac. She’d downloaded a copy of On the Road and started reading on the flight.
“I’m sorry,” she said. They’d stopped in front of the Ball-Z food truck, which served up ball-shaped dishes of the world. “I mean, I get why you probably liked it. But he’s super sexist. The representation of women is terrible except when he talks about his mother, whom he seems to respect.”
“But didn’t you like the energy in the words? He wrote the novel in three weeks. Isn’t that amazing? It’s so visceral. It made me regret ever standing still.” On the Road made Mika want to explore the world. Have rolling bones and chase her dreams. “It’s what originally inspired me to travel and study art.”
“It’s just not inclusive enough for me. The whole Beat Generation was basically a bunch of white men having a serious bromance.”
“Point taken.”
“But I’m glad it worked for you.”
“It served its purpose.”
They moved along, Thomas a foot or two behind. Mika pictured a cartoon she once saw, where a rain cloud trailed the main character. Back where they started, Penny tapped her lips. “Do you think the ramen is good?”
“Oh, it’s the best. I eat it all the time. I’ll have the same. Why don’t I get it, and you two find a seat? Thomas, what do you want?”
“I’ll take whatever you recommend.” She’d recommend something for Thomas, alright. You couldn’t go wrong with ramen. But maybe she’d ask for double ajitsuke tamago, a soft-boiled egg soaked in mirin. It was delicious, but the custard yolk might be off-putting to Thomas. He shifted, removing his wallet from his back pocket, and then offered Mika a couple of crisp twenties.
Mika put up a hand. “My treat.” No way she’d let Thomas pay for her. The cash hung in the air between them. Mika thought Thomas might try to wrestle the bills into her hand. “I insist.” Mika fluffed up her tone and smiled overbrightly. “Be right back.” She scooted off.
Mika ordered and handed over her card to be swiped. She couldn’t afford the meal and could practically hear the change plopping from her bank account. Should’ve taken Thomas’s money. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d cut off her nose to spite her face. The order came up fast, and Mika balanced everything on a tray. Thomas and Penny had found seats under the tent, their backs to Mika. She paused out of eyesight but within earshot.
“Isn’t this fun?” Penny asked Thomas, voice full of trepidation. Mika recognized the tone, the one you used with your parents when you desperately wanted them to approve. She’d used it on Hiromi many times. Mama, I drew you a caterpillar, do you like it? Mika, at age seven. Hmm, looks more like a worm, I think, Hiromi had replied.
“I’m enjoying spending time with you,” he said placidly.
“But not the food trucks?”
“What do you want me to say? I am convinced they’re on wheels so they can make a fast getaway when the health inspector comes. In fact, I bet I can look up their food safety rating online.”
Penny giggled. “Please, don’t.” She waited for a beat. “Are you still angry with me?”
Thomas put his phone down and tapped his long fingers against the table. No ring on his left finger, Mika noted. “No, I’m not mad. I wasn’t really mad before either. I just wish you hadn’t lied to me.”
“But are, like, your feelings hurt?”
“It’s not your job to worry about my feelings. It’s my job to worry about yours.” Well, that was kind of nice. “What do you think of her?” Her, he meant Mika.
“I like her so much. And it’s nice. We like the same things.” At this, Mika lightened with the promise of a wish suddenly fulfilled. She wanted to be friends with Penny. It’s what she had wanted with her own mother. Warmth. Comradery. A place to rest, to come home to.
“So, she’s like a sixteen-year-old girl?” Thomas asked drily. Mika shifted on her feet, the tray getting heavy, but couldn’t bring herself to interrupt them. She felt like an intruder—on the outside looking in.
“Dad—”
Thomas cleared his throat. “Sorry. Go on.”
“I don’t know. We talk about books and boys and our dreams.”
“I want to talk to you about those things.”
“It’s just not the same.” Penny shifted. “Look, one mom died, and the other gave me away. I have serious issues. I need something . . . someone.”
“You’ve got me,” said Thomas.
Penny flicked a hand. “Typical men, thinking a penis solves everything.”
Thomas coughed into his fist and patted his chest. “Penny, please.”
“Just try to lighten up a little. Be cool.”
“I feel like I’ve been very pleasant. But don’t you think it’s odd she didn’t know how to pop the trunk of her car?”
“Ready to eat?” Mika cut in. She set the tray down on the table, and Thomas cracked a faint smile.
Mika placed bowls of steaming ramen in front of each of them. Penny hesitated, eyes bouncing between the fork and wooden hashi. Finally, she chose the fork with a furious blush. Mika pulled her lip between her teeth and set down the hashi she’d grabbed, opting for the fork as Penny had. “These always give me splinters.”
“Yeah?” Penny’s eyes flashed cautiously to Mika’s, then back to her bowl. She had a smattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose that spread into the apples of her cheeks. Penny’s father had freckles on his arms.
“Oh yeah, these cheap hashi are the worst.”
“Hashi?” Penny asked.
“Chopsticks in Japanese.”
Penny seemed inordinately pleased by this. “Hashi.”
Thomas flexed his hands, veins protruding. “You know, I think I changed my mind. I’m getting the curry too. What the hell, right?” He stood. “Pen, how about an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie, your favorite?”
Penny nodded. “Sure, that sounds good.”
“I’ll be right back.” Thomas squeezed Penny’s shoulder, then leaned down and placed a kiss on her shiny dark hair.
She swatted him away. “Stahp.”
“You want anything?” Thomas asked Mika.
So much, so much, Mika thought. But she shook her head and said, “I’m good. Nothing for me, thanks.”