Chapter 3

Lauren held the hand tightly. After a minute she picked up the teacup and took a small sip. “Can you tell me about her?” she asked, in a whisper, as she set the cup back down.

Mika studied her for what felt like a minute or two before nodding, not releasing her hand.

“She is very beautiful,” Lauren said, when the pause stretched out for longer. “Both of you are. And your love is a part of that. It shines through.”

“Her name was Nicole. We met in Oxford in 2012,” she began. “I was studying for a BFA, while she was working on a D Phil. We’d planned to stay in England while I continued on to an MFA, but she had to move back to the States in 2014. I had another year on my degree program, but I was graduating right as the gay marriage ruling was announced, so we rushed to get married, so that I could get my green card and be with her.” She shook her head. “I’m so glad we hurried. I’d have had so much less time with her if we’d delayed.”

She picked up her tea left-handed, not giving up Lauren’s hand. After taking a sip and replacing it in its saucer, she continued.

“We’d been married four and a half years. I was trying hard to think of something I could get her for Valentine’s. The weather had been just a little frosty, with constant drizzle. The roads weren’t bad but they were damp and muddy. Seems someone stepped out from behind a van that was stopped on the motorway shoulder, startling a driver who changed lanes to avoid them. A lorry that was about to pass him swerved and jackknifed. Nicole was one more lane over, behind the lorry, and then under it. They cut her out, but she’d passed minutes earlier, they said.”

Stress or grief had apparently made Mika forget to translate from her English to Lauren’s, and it was only ‘jackknifed’ that gave her the clue that she was talking about an eighteen wheeler. She shuddered. “Oh, Christ, Mika,” she said, and again, “I’m sorry.”

“She was the only fatality, but there were five others injured in the pileup that happened. She never had to deal with lockdowns and masks,” Mika said. “Weddings weren’t happening, and I was trapped here without her. I almost tried to sell the place, but where would I have gone? And I’m glad I didn’t. Sometimes not hearing her voice hurts so much, but it would hurt more to have given up a place that we both put so much of ourselves into. I did live in the flat for a couple of years. It wasn’t only a studio. Now I’m mostly okay here.” She gave Lauren a weak smile. “So are you still sure you want to try dating?”

Lauren nodded slowly. “I see that it’s a much bigger deal than I’d known, but yes. I think the bigger question is, do you want to?”

Mika gave a small, noncommittal shrug. “I’m really not ready to date,” she said. “But I won’t be ready in five years. Fifteen. I want to try to be brave enough to do it anyway. But I will never not be in love with my wife. Can you live with that?”

“If you have the courage to date while feeling that way, I think I can,” said Lauren. “You’re worth getting to know, and that’s all we’re doing, isn’t it? If I’m ever disrespectful toward Nicole, you have my permission to slap me silly.”

That caused Mika to give her a quick grin. “Don’t give up on me too quickly,” she said. “I’m doing better than I was in 2020. That was such a bad year. But I still have difficult days.”

“I understand,” said Lauren. “Thank you for telling me.”

She felt she understood Mika’s melancholy now, or at least the reasoning behind it. Understanding loss that deep probably required living through it. Was she really ready to try to get close to someone with such complex feelings and such a traumatic past? Someone who was clearly deeply in love with another?

Sitting across from her, seeing not only the pain but the love Mika was capable of, she felt she saw an inner beauty that dwarfed yet complemented the outer beauty that had initially attracted her. She really did want to try to be closer to her.

A movement caught her eye. The yellow and white cat was on the move. Her tail was high in the air as she crossed to where Mika sat, rubbed herself against the woman’s legs one time, then sauntered out in a different direction. She looked up to see Mika watching her watch the cat.

“She was Nicole’s,” Mika said. “She got her after she returned to the States, before I could come here for the wedding.” She gave a brief smile. “She gave her the name, though I think it’s a good one.”

“Ten years ago, then?” Lauren asked.

The dark-haired woman nodded. “Janeway missed her too, after…” She broke off, but she didn’t need to say the words again. “She would stalk around the house, crying. But during the night she would curl up on me and purr. Before that, she hadn’t really considered me worth noticing.”

“Seems like you were there for each other,” Lauren said. “Maybe I could be here for you, too. We’ve only just started dating, but I hope you’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do to support you.”

Mika nodded again. “I feel like I’ve dumped a lot on you. I hadn’t intended to do that. I won’t fault you if you don’t want to meet again. Please eat your cookies, though,” she added, with a small smile. She released Lauren’s hand, having held it for so long that it felt strange to Lauren to have control of her fingers again. “I’ll pour more tea.”

Lauren left after the next round of tea. She felt she’d imposed enough on Mika at a time she’d accidentally made stressful. She promised to call or text her within the next few days.

Lauren: “Do you want to try the park again? Weather forecast is improving.”
Mika: “Indeed. We can return here to listen to music if it’s too chilly.”
Lauren: “Why not? Or we could get pizza. Do you eat pizza?”
Mika: “Does anyone not eat pizza?”

The day was cool, but dry, with little wind. The footpaths were a mass of leaves, which crunched or squelched underfoot. They walked a full circuit of the park this time, narrowly avoiding being bowled over by a child on a skateboard who was using a slope on the public path as a ramp. Lauren wasn’t sure if it was a boy or girl under the heavy coat.

Halfway around the path, Lauren slipped her hand into Mika’s. She wasn’t sure what the reaction would be, but Mika wrapped her fingers around it, gripping lightly but positively.

“You said you were studying fine arts in Oxford,” Lauren said. “I googled what that means. It sounds impressive, and incredibly competitive. Did you specialize in photography?”

Mika shook her head. “We worked in several media. I had a notion of becoming a sculptor. Photography paid the bills when I moved to the States.”

“Oh, that’s cool! Do you still sculpt?”

“Ah,” said Lauren. “I’m sorry, I’m being insensitive, aren’t I?”

“No, it’s not that,” Mika replied. “Even if it was, I don’t want to shut down. Listen…” She glanced at Lauren, then looked at the ground in front of her. Lauren waited for her to continue. “If you’re really interested, I’ll show you my last piece. You’ll understand why it’s hard to talk about. But it can’t be a conversation ender.”

“I’d like to see it,” Lauren said. “Is there any other art you’ve pursued? Or just photography.”

This time, Mika smiled. “Shall we eat pizza on the way to my house, or call for delivery? I’d like to show you around.”

They arrived at Mika’s large yellow house after sharing a deep dish pizza. “I meant to ask if you wanted me to get some coffee,” Mika said. “I only have tea here.”

“The tea has been good,” said Lauren. “I can drink coffee at home.”

“Then I’ll put the kettle on,” the slender woman announced. “Would you like me to take your coat?”

She returned a moment later, having taken off her coat and sweater. Lauren saw her tee shirt, and though she tried to suppress her laughter, it burst free. “Oh, God,” she said.

Mika’s face seemed a little flushed. “Do you like it? I’ve had it for donkey’s years. It was a gift. Nicole thought it was hilarious. I thought you might, too.”

The front of the tee had images of several birds, generally chickadee shaped, but in an array of colors. At the top of the shirt, in block letters, were the words “SMALL BRITISH TITS.”

“I don’t think I can make any comment without sounding crass,” said Lauren, adding, “but… nice birds.”

“Be honest. You almost said nice tits, didn’t you?”

“I did not,” Lauren replied. “I didn’t even think it. I promise!”

“I’m not as offended by language as you Yanks can be,” Mika said, “and I’m quite aware that I’m underwhelming in the breast department. That’s why the shirt is so funny. And they are quite British.”

Now it was Lauren’s turn to blush. “I, uh, don’t think anything about you is underwhelming, Mika. I think you’re very attractive, head to toe, and will you please show me around the house before I say something I will regret?”

“Of course,” her companion said. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments,” she added, smiling, “but for the record, I think you’re very attractive, too. Call me shallow, but I wouldn’t have agreed to a first date if i didn’t. Just thought I should get that out there.”

Lauren didn’t object to the turn the conversation had taken, but she felt nervous nonetheless. “Guided tour?” she suggested.

This time Mika’s cheeks dimpled when she smiled. “Fine,” she said. She led Lauren out of the living room. “This is my room.” She opened the first door in the hallway. “Well, right, they’re all my room now, but this was always my relaxation room. It’s where I would come when I felt stressed or homesick. I still do. I should mention that you get a special dispensation since you’re on the official tour, but I do not allow any electronics in the room.”

“Damn, that sounds like a great idea,” said Lauren.

The room was a moderate size, but was very bare. The walls were painted in a soft cream, with brown trim. There was a low table, lower than a coffee table, surrounded by cushions. The room had French doors which opened onto the central yard. The evening had turned to dusk, but she could see the rental apartment. The light of a single street lamp flickered through the maple that overhung it.

There was a single watercolor painting in the room. It was a Japanese or Japanese-influenced image of open doors, shoji – was that the name? – translucent paper in a wooden frame. A small amount of light seemed to glow through the paper where it wasn’t shadowed by the wall. Below the door stretched a tatami floor, and through the doorway a small pagoda was dwarfed by a huge tree, small red maples and traditional water features in the foreground. The brush strokes where the painting faded to blank paper had the appearance of calligraphy.

Lauren assumed it was a traditional painting, and was about to turn away from it when she was struck with a sense of familiarity. She turned back to the painting to study the tree, then looked out through the French doors. The one in the painting was much larger in scale than the one she was looking at, but… “Fuck,” she breathed, then felt guilty for her language. “Uh, I mean… you painted this.”

“The tree is the same. Everything else is… reimagined? This room is the tatami room, right?”

“It’s how I picture it, yes,” Mika replied. “I mean, we didn’t have a wood frame house in England, but Dad was culturally very much Japanese, so I recreated the room to feel close to him and Mum.”

“Your mother was Japanese too?”

Mika gave a half smile. “Technically no, she’s British, but second generation of Japanese descent. Dad met her in Newcastle after he’d moved from Tokyo. She stayed in England with me when he had to return, but she’d spend long vacations in Japan while I was at school, and she moved there permanently as soon as I was at university.”

“Do you speak Japanese?”

Mika placed her palms on her thighs and bowed, then spoke a stream of words that Lauren didn’t understand in the slightest, except she thought she heard “Fujita” somewhere in the mix.

She grinned. “Did you just introduce yourself?”

“For all I know, you could have said ‘these are small British tits,'” Lauren said.

Mika’s smile was mischievous. “The double-entendre doesn’t translate. I could say ‘this tee shirt has small British birds,’ or I could say something that would be considered very impolite. I did neither.”

Lauren looked at the painting again. “Well, this is amazing,” she said. “You should sell prints. If that wouldn’t be demeaning the work.” She turned back to Mika. “You said you had a sculpture to show me.”

The woman’s face lost its lighthearted expression, but she nodded. “Yes.” She held out her hand to Lauren, but seemed uneasy. Lauren took the offered hand, and let her lead her out of the room.

“This is my bedroom,” she said, opening the door at the end of the hall. “Please don’t look too closely.”

The room was very neat. Mika had nothing to be embarrassed about in its presentation, but Lauren avoided looking directly at anything but the display shelf the shorter woman stood before. In center place, between two small paintings on stands, was the head of a woman in marble. The detail was incredible. Eyes, eyebrows and hair were all lifelike. Lauren couldn’t envision how it could be made so perfectly.

She recognized the face, though she’d only seen it in a single photo. As if in confirmation, a crystal ring holder on the left side of the piece held a diamond engagement ring and a gold wedding band. “Nicole,” she stated. “It’s beautiful. How long did it take?”

“I worked on it for about two years,” Mika said. “Mostly during the pandemic, when there were no weddings, but I continued when business picked up. Creating it was difficult, at first, but I think it was important for me.”

“Did you work on it here?” Lauren asked. “In the apartment?”

Mika shook her head. “I own a place a few miles away. My workshop is behind my business office.”