Chapter 7

Lauren pushed her hair back again. “I’ll wait,” she said. “I don’t want you to be disappointed for me. You’re under enough pressure.”

Mika nodded slowly, then looked up at her. “Did you bring a hairbrush?”

“I did. I just didn’t want to take the time to dry my hair.”

“May I brush your hair for you?”

The question startled Lauren. “I’ll fetch it.”

When she returned, Mika had her turn to face the window, then sat cross-legged behind her. She began to brush out her hair in long strokes. The scratching of the bristles on her scalp was soothing. She found the experience relaxing.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensations. It was a surprisingly intimate feeling. Not just the brushing. Mika was so close to her that she could feel her presence, the occasional tickle of her breath against Lauren’s neck. When she brought her hand up to move a strand of hair, her fingertips grazed her skin, feeling like a caress.

She knew she was attracted to Mika. She’d been attracted to her physically from the start; an attraction that only grew as she sensed her turmoil and her inner strength. She liked spending time with her. She was comfortable with her. She was fond of her. She was aroused by her – especially in their “snogging” sessions, and the time she’d had her fingers inside her, however unfortunate the outcome.

She wanted to be closer to her. She wanted their relationship to last. But the idea of being with her was both exhilarating and terrifying. What if Mika was never able to find room in her heart for both Nicole and Lauren? Her own heart would break.

“Why did you send me the Dido song?” she asked.

“I like it,” Mika replied. “I listened to the CD again since it was in the player, and it reminded me of your visit.”

“I wasn’t sure if you were sending me a message,” Lauren said. “About how hard it was to hide how much you love Nicole.”

“I don’t try to hide that,” Mika said. “You know how I feel.” She was silent for a moment before continuing. “It’s a song about a woman coping through loss and dealing with the consequences of her choices. I don’t think the situation applies directly. But I do think I want to move forward with my life in spite of what’s gone before. If there’s a message, it’s that I’m not going to surrender. I like you, Lauren. If you felt I was trying to say you couldn’t be important to me, then I apologize, because you already are.”

It was early days in the relationship by any standard. She’d met Mika no more than a month ago, but Lauren was having a hard time imagining ever not wanting to be around this strong, sensitive woman. She would wait as long as needed for that to be possible. Mika seemed to be telling her that she was committed to reaching that point.

“I won’t be here over Christmas,” Mika said, interrupting her thoughts.

“Oh, really?” That was disappointing.

“It’s a quiet time. I have no weddings until mid-January, so I’m going to spend a few weeks with my family.”

“In Japan?” Lauren asked.

“Yes. I’ll be flying out the second week of December and returning the first week of January.”

“I think that will be good for you,” Lauren said. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Lauren,” Mika replied. “We should video chat. It isn’t easy to find a time though, since I’ll be seventeen hours ahead. Noon for me to your evening would be the best option. It’s the only time I can ever talk to my parents.”

“Video chat would take some of the sting out of it,” Lauren agreed. “Oh, that means you won’t be here when Mandy moves in.” Mandy was moving in on the first of the year, but Mika had told her she could move furniture over the Christmas holidays if she wanted. Lauren planned to help her. It was disappointing that she wouldn’t be able to cross the yard to see Mika.

“Yes, I need to arrange to get a key to her,” Mika said.

“I can take it for her, if you like. Do you want me to feed Captain Janeway? And change her litter box, of course.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful. I was planning to board her, but she would hate that. Are you sure you don’t mind? You realize she isn’t going to say thank you.”

Lauren laughed. “Maybe you can video chat to her, too, so that she can ignore you in realtime.”

Mika’s brush strokes continued, smooth and intimate, but for a moment a finger caressed the line of her jaw affectionately before drawing back.

“Wait here,” Mika said. Lauren turned to see her leave the room, then return a minute later with a dangerous looking steel pin, about eight inches long. The end of the pin was decorated with red and gold flowers, and a few short strings of beads in the same color.

Mika resumed her place behind Lauren. A moment later, she was gathering up her hair into a tail. Lauren couldn’t see exactly what she was doing, but she felt the tail tighten and twist a few times, along with a sideways pressure which was probably the pin being pushed into the twist. A little adjustment, and Mika released her. “There’s a mirror in the bathroom. Take a look,” she said.

The knot was comfortable. A few inches of hair extended below it, against her left shoulder. When she saw herself in the mirror, she marveled at the effect. Her hair was in a beautiful tight knot, centered, but with the decorations on the pin on the left side, and a tail on the left. The beads enhanced the decorative effect, swaying as she moved her head.

After she’d admired herself for a couple of minutes, she picked up her phone and returned to the room, though she didn’t violate the electronics ban by entering.

“This is beautiful,” she said. “I want you to take a picture of it.”

Mika took a look at the cellphone in her hand. “I can do better than that, pet,” she said. She led the way to the room between her relaxation room and the bedroom, which held photography equipment, with a minimum of furniture. She selected a string hanging before one wall, pulling down a neutral backdrop, turned on a couple of the lights, and executed a quick photoshoot, posing Lauren between shots.

There was a computer in one corner of the room. Mika uploaded the photos, and after a quick visual check, emailed them to Lauren. “If there are any you want editing or enhancing, let me know,” she said. “You can take the pin, if you want to keep the style for now. Bring it back next time.”

Always happy to know that there would be a next time, Lauren agreed.

When she left, Mika brought her blouse on a hanger. The stain was completely gone. She added it to her suit in the garment bag, then gave Mika an affectionate goodbye kiss, but didn’t attempt to turn it into a makeout session.

Lauren: “Can you show me how to make that hair knot? I love the way it looked.”
Mika: “I can. It takes a little practice, but it isn’t hard with a mirror.”
Lauren: “I have news, too. At the risk of boring you to sleep, relaxing yesterday gave me a fresh perspective on my problem. The good news: no one is pressuring me now. The bad news: hundreds of people are likely to be laid off 😢.”
Mika: “Do you want to come over to talk about it? Curry&noodles.”
Lauren: “You had me at come over.”

This time, Lauren did stop by her home to change, showing up at Mika’s in tee shirt and jeans. The curry had small chunks of fried chicken in thick sauce over noodles. Mika ate hers with chopsticks, of course, while Lauren stuck to silverware.

“This is good,” Lauren said. “Was it hard to make?”

Mika laughed. “I chopped a few vegetables, but the curry paste comes from a box, the noodles were frozen and take two minutes in boiling water, and the karaage chicken is from Trader Joe’s, so I’d say not.

“I feel cheated,” Lauren grumbled.

“Tell me the good news,” Mika instructed.

“Oh, right,” Lauren began. “So like I said, I went home feeling very relaxed. This morning I felt that I was looking at the audit reports with fresh eyes. I found an unusual pattern in the purchase of high-dollar capital equipment. The kind of purchase you’d only make once or twice. Turns out they cooked the books to hide a loan repayment. So they already have a substantial loan they’re about to default on, made to a different company entity, so it didn’t show in a search. Suddenly management is praising me, saying they knew I was right to dig deeper, and the lawyers have gone silent, and are you asleep yet?”

Mika laughed. “No, it’s interesting, and it sounds like you’ve saved the bank from embarrassment and a huge loss.”

“Yeah, well, I feel so relieved I’ll be able to coast on the lack of stress for days, at least. Though I’m sad that the company’s going to crash and burn.”

After dinner, Lauren gave the hairpin back to Mika, who took it to her bedroom, returning with a hand mirror and a pair of wooden pins with what appeared to be jade gems instead of the ornate flowers and beads. “You can keep these. They’re more suitable for everyday wear.”

Lauren objected to Mika’s generosity, but she insisted, then took Lauren to the relaxing room. Using the hand mirror, she showed her how to gather her hair, then twist it around the pin. She also showed her how to form the knot without leaving a tail, and how to twist the tail around the second pin for a style with two sticks.

“I’ve seen knots made with chopsticks before,” said Lauren, “but I don’t think I’ve seen one as elegant as this.”

“This is the version I like,” Mika said.

“Do you wear your own hair like that?” Lauren asked.

“I haven’t in a long time,” Mika said.

“I’d like to see,” Lauren said. Only when the words were out of her mouth did she consider that “a long time” might be five years, but she couldn’t keep assuming that Mika had a problem before she admitted to one.

After hesitating only slightly, Mika nodded. She left the room, returning with two silver pins.

“The last time I did this, my hair was like yours,” she said. “Red, I mean, though more ginger, and much longer.” She pulled her hair into a single tail. “It was hard to maintain in the pandemic. I cut it short myself, and dyed it black, so that it could grow back in its natural color.” She’d twisted the length of her hair, then pushed a pin in and twisted it tight. “It used to be long enough for a second twist, but I can still add the pin for decoration,” she said, as she pushed the second pin beside the first. The heads of both pins dangled small white and blue flowers.

“That’s beautiful,” Lauren said. “It suits you.”

Mika smiled. “Maybe I’ll start dying my hair again, now that avoiding hairdressers is not an issue. You can help me choose a color.”

“If you like,” said Lauren, “but you’re the artist.”

Over the next few weeks, Lauren didn’t see Mika as often as she’d have liked. She was wrapping up the year’s business in readiness for three weeks’ absence, and preparing for the trip itself. She did invite Mika for movie night at her house, which turned into a long-lasting makeout session that left them breathless and reluctant to part. After Mika left, Lauren felt equal parts elated and frustrated.

Mika accepted her offer to drive her to the airport for her trip, enduring her repeated questions about having her travel documents. She carried two passports, Japanese and British – well, E.U. until it expired – which wasn’t technically allowed on the Japanese side, but was mostly overlooked, she said. And she had her green card to return. E-ticket and printed copy. Fully charged phone. Her phone plan included Japanese carriers, and her tablet would work on her parents’ wifi, so they would be able to video chat.

“Yes, Mum,” said Mika after the second time Lauren asked. “I have a checklist, Mum.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Lauren said. “I’ve never traveled internationally and I’m nervous on your behalf. Do you have cash?”

The air was decidedly cold when they exited Lauren’s Lexus. Mika stacked her suitcase and travel bag, which held one of her cameras. She had also brought a plastic grocery bag. Lauren had assumed it contained reading material or a neck rest or some travel accessory, and was surprised when she handed it to her. She looked inside to find a package wrapped in Christmas paper.

“Don’t open this until we can do a video chat,” she said.

“Umm, okay,” said Lauren. “Thank you! But I don’t have anything for you.”

“That’s fine,” Mika said, with a smile. She was wearing glasses, for the first time that Lauren had seen. She must not want to deal with contacts on what would be about twelve hours of flight time and three airports to navigate.

Lauren stayed with her as long as she could. At the security line they hugged, then exchanged a tender kiss. “I’m going to miss you,” she whispered. “Be safe.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Mika replied, then turned to scowl at the line before joining it.

Mika: “Arrived safely. All unpacked. Time for the ritual interrogation.”
Lauren: “Will it be bad?”
Mika: “No, it’s just a habit for us. I’ve been regularly separated from them since I started boarding school, so there’s always an intense catching up session.”
Lauren: “When you’ve been thoroughly interrogated send me photos.”

The photos arrived a couple of hours later, showing the interior of a small but comfortable house. The exterior of the same house, separated from the street by a narrow sidewalk and a vivid green hedge, under a cloudy sky. Finally there was a photo of Mika between her parents. She must have taken the photo on a timer. Mika looked very much like her mother, though her eyes may be more like her father’s.

The first video chat took place the next day. Mika had travelled to the city, and gave her a brief video tour of car-free streets lined with shops, the colors of the unreadable signs striking. She switched between the camera showing her face and the one showing the street scene. She wore a face mask, as did about a quarter of the pedestrians. Some were glued to phones, some carried shopping bags. A number wore large headsets. All wore heavy coats. One young guy was eating fast food with chopsticks as he walked.