“Wouldn’t that be cheating?”
“It’s not cheating if I use you as my proxy.” Aya batted her eyelashes. “Nee, joushi?”
“Oh, look at you. You can be a real bijin when you put your feminine wiles to practice.” Ishida shook his head with an amused grin. “What should I put you down for, hm? How long do you think it’s going to last?”
“Eien ni.”
“Ohoho.” Ishida sounded nothing like Takatani when he said that. “When’s the wedding? I want to clear my schedule and have time to get my wife a nice dress.”
Aya chuckled, returning to her monitor. “I like to think positively about these things.”
Kenji hustled over with their coffee, careful to not slosh a single drop as he presented Aya with her cream and one sugar. “Here you are, Sugiya-san,” he said, deferential to a fault. “I hope it is hot and refreshing to your liking.”
“Oi, Kenji-kun,” Aya said to him. “How much did you bet on my relationship with Genny Liu?”
There went the sugar cube straight to the floor. The young man apologized so much that Ishida fell back in his seat, laughing and smacking his palms together.
“Because Ishida-joushi here says he’s in the lead,” Aya continued. “Go on! Flatter me and I’ll take you out to lunch. The sushi place on the corner. The nice one. My treat. Both of you.”
“Hey, I want sushi for lunch,” Ishida said to their junior. “So you better lie to her.”
Kenji kept his eyes pointed low as he said, “Nine months, Sugiya-san.”
“Sugoi!” Aya couldn’t contain her genuine shock. “For that, you get the chef’s platter for lunch.” It cost thirty bucks, but she didn’t mind. Nor would Kenji actually allow his senior to buy him such an expensive lunch while she and Ishida got ten-dollar plates. “Be ready to go right at lunch, huh?”
“Y… yes, Sugiya-san! Thank you so much! Ah…” He double-backed before returning to the copying machine. “This isn’t a hazing thing, right?”
Both Aya and Ishida scoffed. “You think we have the energy to haze you?” Ishida asked. “We’re your most honest seniors. Hey, now, you listen to everything Sugiya-san teaches you. She’ll show you how to sell hot real estate. Also, how to marry well.”
The employees at the neighboring desks collapsed forward, sputtering into their hands. As soon as they attempted to pass it off as sneezing, hands wiping against tissues and lapels, Aya became lost in thought. Genny in a wedding dress. That sure would be something else.
So would getting straight to the wedding night. Genevieve didn’t actually need most of the dresses she wore anyway.
“Ara, isn’t it fast?” Mari multi-tasked talking to her sister while cleaning up her daughter’s drink spill on the restaurant table. “You think Mom and Dad can handle it?”
Aya could barely think – let alone hear herself – over the loud rabble of the beef bowl shop, the one nestled deep into the outer pockets of Ikebukuro, where Mari had once again brought her kids in for doctor visits and discount clothes shopping. The dinner had been last minute, and out of Aya’s way, but this was the perfect opportunity to broach introducing the family to Genevieve.
“I’m the one who brought it up, so blame me for it,” Aya said, having hardly picked at her beef bowl. Across from her, Hisa opened the container of ginger and helped herself to a hearty pile. “Things are getting pretty serious with her, though. She was delighted when I mentioned it.”
“Ah, are you sure? Or could she be, like… really, really nice?”
“I think I know the difference by now.” Aya kept one eye on Hisa, who now had more ginger than beef bowl. “Don’t suppose the doctor told her to eat her ginger, huh?”
“Eh? Ara! Hisa! Yamede!” Mari jumped in to stop her daughter from stealing more ginger from its container. While Aya and her nephew Sho laughed, Mari began foisting the excess ginger into everyone else’s bowls. Great. More ginger. Aya didn’t hate it, but she could go without. “Mou, what has gotten into you two lately? Did I tell you that I found her in the washing machine the other day?”
“Really? That’s a tight fit.”
Hisa raised her arms in triumph. “I fit!”
“I don’t know whose children these are.” Mari picked up her own chopsticks and shoved rice into her mouth, still talking. “They’re definitely not mine.”
All around Aya, members of her family were eating as if this was their last meal ever, mouths full of rice and strips of beef. And ginger. “Uh-huh. I’m not sure how I’m related to any of you, honestly.”
“That’s because you take after Mom. Me and my lot here take after Dad.”
“I do not take after Mom!” Aya leaned over the table, hissing at her sister. “You take that back.”
Her niece and nephew laughed while Mari gave her baby sister a death glare. “You are soooo Mom. Nee?” She gently elbowed Hisa, who raised her arms into the air and immediately dropped her chopsticks. “Auntie Aya is like your grandma.”