Chapter Twenty-One
“That’ll be twenty-seven bucks. You want to open a tab?” The shirtless and very hairy bartender shouted over the music, sliding three tequila shots across the wood top to Hana, Mika, and Hayato. Heavy bass rocked the floor, and strobe lights flashed. Tonight was eighties night. Pop remixes from Whitney Houston and Cyndi Lauper blared over the sound system.
Hana wedged herself between black vinyl stools and handed over her card to the bartender. “I’ve got it. You can leave it open,” she shouted at his back.
The three took their shots and clinked them together. “Kanpai!” Hayato yelled, squeezing a lime between his teeth and downing the shot. Mika and Hana followed suit, liquid burning their throats. They shouldered their way through the crowd, passing a couple of drag queens outfitted in leotards and a mural of Lady Gaga swathed in robes holding a baby Jesus.
“We should hit up the Golden Eagle after this,” Hana said, naming a gay bar in Northeast Portland. “It’s more laid back, mostly bear gays who like rockabilly.”
Hayato caught Mika’s hand and twirled her around. He’d embraced the theme and wore a white Miami Vice suit with a teal shirt underneath. “I want to dance.”
Mika had gone full Flashdance, with a long off-the-shoulder sweatshirt-like dress, leg warmers, and heels. She followed Hayato to the dance floor. Dudes in cages swung around poles, body paint glowing in the black light. For a while, the three stayed together, but soon enough, Hayato and Hana coupled off. Mika took a breather, finding a slice of wall to lean against. “Love your outfit,” a slim blond guy in the exact same costume said as he passed by. In her bra, her phone buzzed. She fished it out, surprised to see Thomas’s name flashing on the screen. She plugged her ear and started toward the courtyard. “Thomas?” she yelled over the noise.
“Mika, you there?”
“Hold on.” She made it to the courtyard. Little groups congregated, smoking and chatting. She shuffled to a corner, nearest the street. The night was hot and stifling. “Can you hear me now?”
“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry to do this, but there’s been a gas leak in my hotel.”
“Oh, no.”
“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay, actually. I’ve been calling around trying to find another hotel, but everything is booked for some comic convention.” Right. Portland’s Comic Con was this weekend. As if on cue, a couple dressed in matching Thor costumes wandered by on the street. “Do you know of somewhere I could stay? Anyone who has an Airbnb that’s somehow vacant?”
Mika put a finger to her lips. “No. Sorry.”
“Shit.”
Although . . . Hana was staying with Josephine, and her room had been unoccupied for some time since she’d been on tour. “Ugh, this may be weird, but Hana’s not home lately. I have an extra room.” Mika let the offer dangle.
Thomas hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“Forget I even suggested it.” Mika banged her head against the brick wall.
“No, it’s a great offer. It wouldn’t be weird? You’d be comfortable with that?”
“It will only be weird if you make it weird,” she said. “I’m cool with it as long as you and Penny are.”
Thomas snorted. “I’d rather not bother her. She was excited about going to the Rocky Horror Picture Show with some new friends tonight. But I’m sure she’d be fine with it. Anyway, I don’t want to worry her.”
Mika straightened. “Alright. I’ll come pick you up then.” She’d driven tonight and parked on the street, planning to Uber it home if need be. But she hadn’t had that much to drink. “Text me what hotel you’re at and give me a few minutes to say goodbye to my friends.”
* * *
Thomas had booked a hotel near the University of Portland and was waiting outside when Mika pulled up. She didn’t bother getting out of the car, just popped the trunk—successfully this time—for Thomas’s suitcase.
“Thanks,” Thomas said, climbing into the front seat.
“Of course.” Mika pulled into traffic.
“This is a different car,” Thomas observed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him press his fingers against the worn seats.
“This is my real car,” Mika explained. “The one I drove you and Penny around in belonged to my friend Charlie. She loaned it to me for the week.”
“Right,” Thomas said. “It’s nice.”
Mika laughed. “It’s terrible. Tape, glue, and a prayer are holding it together, but we’ve been with each other a long time.” She patted the dashboard with affection.
“No, it’s great, really. And the smell is unique, like . . .” He searched for the word.
“Mildew. I left the windows down in the rain.” They stopped at a red light, and she caught Thomas staring at her exposed shoulder. She tugged the dress up. “I was downtown. It was eighties night at the Cockpit.” Thomas said nothing. “So, Penny is at the Rocky Horror Picture Show?” She’d been a couple of times with Hana. Had dressed up in fishnets and red lipstick way back when. Mika wondered if Devon had gone too. She imagined the floppy-haired pop star kid in a pleather corset and smiled to herself.
“Yep. I didn’t know what it was. I mean, I know the movie, but apparently, it’s a ‘whole thing,’” he said, making air quotes. “She has a unique talent for making me feel very uncool.” Thomas’s mouth twisted into a half-frown.
A minute later, they were home. Mika showed Thomas around and put fresh sheets on Hana’s bed. She toed off her heels, slipped on a pair of sweats, and gathered her hair into a high bun. “You want something to eat, drink?” She moved to the fridge and peered inside. Slim pickings. A few groceries for salad. A couple IPAs that were Hana’s. “I have lettuce, beer, or water.”
“Beer would be great.” Thomas stood in the middle of the living room, hands jammed halfway in his pockets. Mika uncapped the beer and handed it off to Thomas before curling into a corner of the couch with a glass of water. Thomas settled on the other end, legs splayed. Mika studied his profile, the hard planes of his cheeks, his straight Roman nose. He had perfect proportions to model for a sculpture.
He stared at the door to Hana’s room. “Where is Hana anyway? You never said.”
Mika stretched, hooking her toes on the coffee table. “Well, she’s home this weekend but staying with her girlfriend. She’s been on tour with Pearl Jam the last month or so.”
“Well, that’s awesome.”
“Yep. She’s an ASL interpreter.”
“That’s right, she told us about it when we went to her roller derby game.”
“It’s pretty amazing to watch her work, the way her body moves. It’s like performance art. She invited me on tour, but I said no.”
His mouth twitched. He sipped his beer. “How come?”
Her brows knit together. “I’ve been on tour with her before. It’s crazy and wild fun, but I decided to hang here to . . . fix things with Penny and focus on my job.”
Thomas nodded thoughtfully. They both understood. Penny was always a reason to stay. “Penny said you had a good conversation after.” He waved a hand around as if to wrangle the messy past, the art gallery opening, Mika’s lies, her chaotic voicemail to Penny.
“She did?” Mika swallowed a bit and briefly averted her gaze. She placed her glass of water on the table. She’d been waiting for Thomas to bring up the gallery night, the aftermath. She and Penny had had it out. Did Thomas want his own reckoning?
Thomas settled deeper into the couch, spread his legs a little wider. “Yes. Literally, she said: ‘We had a good conversation.’ That’s all.”
“It was a good conversation, I think. An honest one, at least,” Mika clarified.
He was silent for a minute. “You know, Penny let me hear your voicemail.”
Mika’s stomach soured. Shame coated her insides.
“It was a brave thing to do, lay it all on the line like that,” Thomas said seriously, light eyes intent on her.
Surprised, Mika’s eyes widened, then she scoffed, feeling an uncomfortable prickle. “I wanted to make it right, that’s all.” She wouldn’t call it brave. She remembered running from Peter’s apartment. Hadn’t stopped running since—afraid of time and herself, worried she might get hurt again. But now, she seemed to have slowed down to let Penny in. She blinked against the sudden vulnerability, the fear. “Thank you, though. And thanks for letting her come this summer.”
Thomas’s turn to scoff. “I don’t think I could have stopped Penny even if I’d tried.” Thomas slugged the rest of his beer and sat back with a sigh. “I was wary when you two started speaking again.”
Mika let out a long breath. “I understand.”
“She said you took her to meet your parents. I was nervous about that too. Last time I saw your mother . . . she basically stared at Penny like she had three heads.”
Mika hesitated for a second. Wondering how much to tell Thomas about her relationship with her mother. How much should she let him in? “My mom didn’t want me to have Penny,” Mika admitted softly. Thomas sharply inhaled. “She, um, didn’t think I could handle being a parent and wasn’t supportive during the pregnancy.”
“I’m sorry,” Thomas said, and there was a trace of something in his eyes. Sadness? Pity?
“It’s alright,” Mika said. “It’s in the past now.” Not really, but Mika didn’t want to dig too deep. Whatever she unearthed would be too messy. Too hard to clean up. “I was worried about Penny meeting my parents also. But it went well. Better than I thought. My mom likes Penny, I think.”
“She called me after and was really excited. Said she’s going to make something with your mom . . .”
“Tsukemono. Pickled vegetables,” Mika filled in.
“Penny also said this is the first time she’s ever felt Japanese.”
Mika froze momentarily, taken aback. “Wow. I’m sorry.” She apologized because she knew what it felt like. To try to give your kid everything and know you came up short. That you weren’t enough. That they needed more. Children were the worst and best things that could happen to a person.
Thomas shrugged. “None of this is easy.”
“It’s not,” Mika agreed. “Thomas,” she said, and she waited until she had his attention. “I’m working hard at my relationship with Penny. I shouldn’t have lied. I was insecure about . . . a lot of things,” she admitted. “I wanted to be worthy of Penny.” Of you. Of everyone. The world. But she didn’t add that.
He nodded long and slow and said, “I believe you.” He picked at the label of his beer with his thumbs. “Although, I could have told you from the beginning, lying to your kid isn’t a good look.” He tapped his chest. “Personal experience.”
“Oh?”
“We had a cat, and when Penny was five, it disappeared. Caroline and I woke to these awful screeching noises early one morning. Coyote got it, I think. But instead of telling Penny that the cat was dead, we told her it had run off. She’d search for it all the time. Until one day, she found its collar with a little blood on it. Probably scarred her for life. Caroline had trouble talking about the hard stuff. Even when she found out she had cancer. She didn’t want to tell Penny right away. I went along with it. But hindsight is always twenty-twenty. We should have told Penny about the cat. We should have told her about her mother.” Thomas grinned ruefully, and the weight of it hit Mika full in the chest. “Though I’m definitely not telling her how much I drank in college.” He hunched forward, letting the empty beer bottle dangle between his fingers. “Anyway, parents lying to kids is not a new thing. You didn’t invent it, so don’t punish yourself too much.”
Mika didn’t know what to do with Thomas’s kindness, how to repay it, so she said, “There’s more beer in the fridge if you want another.”
Thomas unfolded from the couch and pointed to her near-empty glass of water. “Refill?”
“I’d better not,” she told him. “I purposely dehydrate myself before bed.”
Thomas used the counter to snap the cap off the bottle. “I’m afraid to ask.”
Mika stretched, languid, and tired. “If I have too many liquids, I pee all night.” A weak bladder had been a gift from pregnancy. A reminder that Penny’s body used to be inside Mika’s. Mika might have forgotten the details of those nine months. Most things fade with time. Even the things you try desperately to hold on to. But her body always remembered. Maybe that’s what makes you age. The weight of events drooped your shoulders, carved lines in your face. Yeah, that was it. The mind may forget, but the body always remembers.