“According to your work, you are.”
With a soft smile, Aya leaned back in her chair, hands folded behind her head. “Next weekend starts Golden Week. I was smart and requested the one regular day off, so I’ve got the full seven days to do whatever I want.”
”Is that when Golden Week is? That explains a lot. I was trying to put together some meetings with prospective contractors to remodel the bar in Shinjuku, and none of them were available! Here I had thought many of them were hungry for contracts.”
“You have to try scheduling something on May the 2nd. Next Monday,” Aya said. “That’s the only non-holiday that week. They might have some availability if they haven’t shuttered for the whole… thing.”
The way Aya sometimes struggled for the right word always made her cuter. “What are your plans for Golden Week? Don’t people travel around the country a lot?”
“Oh, yes. At the beginning of the year, I had plans to go to Okinawa with some old friends, but that fell through. So I was thinking of a staycation. Maybe hang out with the family. My mom is always telling me I need to spend more time with her.”
Genevieve took a tiny bite of her omelet. “Does your mother know about me?”
“Why?” Aya leaned forward again, elbows framing her empty dishes as she steepled her fingers beneath her chin. “You thinking of coming into Tokyo during the busiest week of the year? To meet my parents?”
Genevieve gasped. “I wasn’t going to…”
“It could be arranged, you know. My mom would be snappy to your face, but I think she’d like you. I mean… if I have to have a girlfriend, it might as well be you. Er, that’s what she would be thinking. She loves pretty, refined women, and used to complain that the girlfriends she met were either too childish or too coarse.”
“You really don’t have a type, do you?” Genevieve couldn’t help but imagine Aya bringing home a petite, feminine girl who wore a Mickey Mouse backpack and bedecked her body in baggy sweaters and loose socks. On the opposite end… A tough and masculine woman who probably ate her own wrench set for breakfast.
“Do you?”
Genevieve nodded. “My type is all in attitude and personality, not physical. You check all the boxes, Ms. Aya.”
“You flatter me.”
“You flatter me by offering to introduce me to your parents. Isn’t that quite serious? Do you think of me seriously already?”
“You’re my girlfriend. Shouldn’t I think of you seriously?”
Those candid words made the butterflies in Genevieve’s stomach flutter up to her heart – then her throat, where they threatened to make her gag in excitement. Or was it anxiety? Of course, I’m excited, but… I don’t want to screw this one up, too. Genevieve was always a hair’s breadth away from falling in too deep, too fast with Aya, a woman who was still new to Genevieve’s world. And she’s a foreigner. A non-Chinese, non-Malay one. Genevieve was well aware that she would catch flack for dating any non-Singaporean, but the ang moh and Chinese girls caught the least amount of attention. The ones from Japan and Korea were either considered a novelty… or the main cause of complaints.
Was that something she wanted to rope Aya into before she was ready?
“I’d love to come to Japan next week,” she said, before Aya could inquire if she were all right, “and if you were serious about meeting your family… I think I could handle it.”
“You better make reservations now, otherwise you won’t find a place to stay in Tokyo. It’s a popular destination for all the country folk.”
“Since Japan is still closed to foreign tourists, I think I should find something. But yes, I’ll make reservations for everything when we get back. Assuming you can keep your hands off me long enough.” That came with an exaggerated sigh.
“First, you’re lucky you have ‘business reasons’ to be in Japan right now because you’re right. I’ve got friends who keep wanting to visit but can’t.” Aya finished the diet soda she stole from Genevieve. “Second, I’ll do my best to let you finish what must be done, but I don’t promise to not keep my hands off you while you sit on your bed and type things into your phone.”
“What a specific scenario you have painted.”
“It’s because I’m always staring at the way your shoulders perk up when you’re sitting on a bed. I don’t know how else to describe it. I see them, and I want to kiss them until you’re melting in my arms.”
Genevieve moved her hand across her face and pushed her hair out of the way. Anything to hide her blushing. “Are you always like this?” she tittered. “Is this your suave side making me crazy? Or is it me?”
“I say what I’m thinking. In English, it’s easy.”
Genevieve considered that for a moment. That the language you’re speaking could change your outlooks or even opinions on things… She had been a polyglot for so long that she forgot what it was like to consider her thoughts in a new language for the first time.
She wondered if her tutor in Japan would be available over Golden Week.
“Hey, while we’re here…” Genevieve’s foot may or may not have brushed against Aya’s leg. “Teach me some more Japanese. I want us to be having whole conversations in it by the end of the year.”
Aya looked away, snorting.
“What?”
“I think it’s cute you’re assuming we’ll still be dating by the end of the year.” She leaned her leg into Genevieve’s roaming foot. “Honestly.”
This time, Genevieve did not detect sarcasm in her girlfriend’s voice. “I like to think positively about these things. We’re taking our time. Getting to know each other. Having fun.” She attempted to keep a strong façade as she said that, but Aya’s biting look and the effortless way she sat in the chair made Genevieve want to crash and burn against the Newton Food Centre ground.
I swear I’ve never met someone like her before. Genevieve could only futz with her hair so much before Aya caught on to her feelings. I know what it’s like to be genuinely in love with someone. This? This was new. An emotion that was both ravenous and… oddly comforting. Someone could tell Genevieve she was suffering from amnesia and had actually known Aya for ten years, and she would believe it.
I’ve never been more certain that I’m in love with you, Aya Sugiya. Genevieve took her girlfriend’s hand on the table, between their empty plates and the small pile of greasy napkins they had accumulated. When the time is right, I will tell you.
She didn’t want to scare Aya off. It had barely been a month – but what a wonderful month it had been.