Monday evening, we picked out the dress for our dinner with Keiko. We made dinner together, and Leah gave me a breakdown of the basics of Japanese dining etiquette.
“Do I actually need to know all this? We are eating in New York.”
“You’re having dinner with my Japanese mother at one of the best Japanese restaurants in New York. She won’t care if you get something wrong, but you will care if you realize afterward.”
Okay, that was true enough.
Most of it was easy enough. Don’t pour my own drink if there was someone else at the table. Don’t stick chopsticks upright in rice. Don’t pass food from chopstick to chopstick, as that was associated with funeral practices and death.
Don’t rub disposable chopsticks together, but it was unlikely we would get those.
I should call Keiko Takahashi-san, not Keiko or Keiko-sama. That was apparently a bit too formal. And I should follow Keiko’s lead. She was the host, so when in doubt, do what she did.
“Anything else?”
“Don’t drown good sushi in soy sauce.”
“That was literally the first thing you taught me after teaching me chopsticks.”
“Oh, right. I’d forgotten about that.”
“That was like our first intimate moment?”
“Was it? I was just teaching you how to hold chopsticks like an adult.”
“You were holding my hand. My heart was going like a million miles a second.”
“I guess.” She looked up, remembering the moment, and smiled.
“You were so cute that evening.”
We spent the rest of the evening cuddling and watching Blue Eye Samurai. We’d spent some time trying to find TV shows and movies we both liked and had landed on a handful of Western animation. Leah had also gotten me into some Japanese anime she thought I’d like. It was an ongoing project.
When Tuesday rolled around, I stayed at the apartment while Leah went to work.
I took some time to practice using my chopsticks, making sure I still knew what I was doing. I practiced saying Takahashi-san, itadakimasu, and gochisousama desu.
I spent some time browsing work opportunities, but the market was particularly bad, and I wasn’t really motivated.
Another Instagram notification showed up on my phone.
I looked.
It was Mark.
Fuck…
Okay. Maybe he’d just seen that his future wife was following me and decided to do the same. Nothing malicious about that. Perfectly normal.
I looked through his profile.
Nothing.
He was tagged in a lot of Anna’s photos, but like me, he had no posts or contact information. Just a name and a photo.
I closed Instagram. Nothing I could do about any of this. Keep calm. They were far away. Everything was good.
I went out for lunch and walked around Central Park to clear my mind. I had some things that needed fixing.
Lin agreeing to Comic-Con was good. I looked forward to spending time as a group again. Leah was great, but I really wanted all of us to get along.
Leah’s housing situation was still an issue, and I needed to talk to Lin about it. My fallback was having Leah move into my bedroom until she found a new place.
Not exactly a great idea, considering Lin was already worried about spending too much time with Leah.
And I needed to find gainful employment. Two months was great, but it was limited. I didn’t want to end up unable to pay rent, or mooching off Leah.
Just organizing these issues in my head while I walked made them easier to handle, and I decided to get an ice cream and enjoy some of the freedom unemployment granted me.
Leah returned home around five. She was in organization mode, and I quickly fell into line. We did our makeup together. She helped with a few things, like my lipstick, but I could handle most of it myself now.
I dressed in the midi-length fitted dress Leah had picked out, with short sleeves and a high neckline. I looked formal enough for meeting a parent, but stylish enough for dinner at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.
I was still hesitant about wearing proper heels, but I had some medium-height block heels that I was fairly good with, and decided to give them their first proper test.
At six, we were ready. I looked over at Leah, who was getting us an Uber.
“Leaving in five,” she proclaimed, putting her phone away in her bag and giving herself one last check.
The Uber dropped us off by the New York Public Library, and I wasn’t sure we’d come to the right place. There was no restaurant that I could see.
Leah pointed across the street at a tiny wooden sign set into an otherwise anonymous Midtown frontage.
We crossed the street and arrived at the door.
Oh.
Apparently you already needed to know where Sushi Sho was to find Sushi Sho.
Leah rang a bell, and a moment later the door opened.
We stepped inside, where a member of staff greeted us with a small bow.
“Irasshaimase.”
Leah returned the bow with a practiced little dip of her head.
“Konbanwa. Takahashi de yoyaku shiteimasu.”
I copied Leah’s bow a fraction too late and probably twice as deep.
The staff member replied,
“Takahashi-sama wa sude ni irasshatteimasu. Kochira e douzo.”
They started toward another room.
Leah followed. “Mom’s already here. Come.”
The main room was tiny. Ten seats ran along a counter facing the chefs, with the kitchen partially visible behind them. A man I assumed was the head chef stood in the middle, flanked by two other chefs already preparing for the evening.
Keiko was impossible to miss.
She sat at the counter with an empty seat on either side of her. As soon as she saw us, she stood and smiled.
“Leah. Hisashiburi.”
“Hello, Mother.”
Keiko gave her daughter a quick embrace before turning her attention to me.
Okay, that greeting was packed to the brim with explosives. This was gonna be an interesting meal.
I gave her the small bow I’d practiced.
“Good evening, Takahashi-san. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Keiko stared at me for half a second, then laughed.
“Oh, absolutely not.”
I straightened.
“I said it wrong?”
“No, which makes it worse.” She glanced at Leah. “What have you done to this poor woman?”
“I taught her common courtesy.”
“Clearly.”
Keiko turned back to me, still smiling.
“Please, Mia. Keiko. You don’t have to be that formal with me.”
“Keiko, then.”
“Much better.”
She gestured toward the two empty seats.
I suddenly understood why she’d chosen the middle one.
Leah took one side, I took the other, and Keiko sat back down between us.
Keiko spoke first. “Leah, let me start by saying how impressed I was with your performance at the fundraiser. I expected you to be good, but praise from the director, and his wife offering me two contracts for her foundation gala and a private donor dinner in September?” She gave a small tsk. “You are clearly more competent than anyone could have expected.”
I smiled at that and remembered how Leah had emphasized the mutually assured destruction line.
It was now clear to me that we were in some sort of arms race.
Leah seemed to be thinking the same thing. She smiled at her mother.
“Happy to oblige.”
Keiko continued, “Alan is joining me on Monday, as are Alysha and Jonathan. We don’t have much time, so bringing my top people over will make everything run much more smoothly.”
“The London office will survive with half the staff gone?”
“Richard knows how to keep the fort down. Besides, we don’t have anything big until the Ashbourne Foundation Halloween Masquerade. And you know Richard loves his ghouls”
Leah gave Keiko a suspicious look.
“Mother, you don’t need that many, nor that qualified people to host two events by September.”
Keiko only smiled.
“You were always the bright one Leah. Aiko sends her regards by the way, she says she misses you”
“Is she still going strong with her bouldering?”
“She sent her first V5 last month, and can’t stop mentioning it”
Leah smiled at this.
“Don’t dodge my question, Mother. Why are you gathering your top people in New York for two events? I’d understand if you were hosting the Met Gala, but this is a foundation gala and a private dinner.”
Keiko opened her mouth.
A warm towel appeared in front of each of us.
She smiled.
“Well. That seems like my cue.”
I glanced at Leah. She unfolded hers, wiped her hands, folded it again, and placed it back on the little tray.
Right. Copy Leah. Easy enough.
A staff member approached and asked Keiko something in Japanese.
“Onomimono wa ikaga nasaimasu ka?”
Keiko replied without hesitation.
“Nihonshu o ippon onegaishimasu.”
Leah interrupted in English.
“And an umeshu soda-wari for her, please.”
I looked at her.
“You’re ordering for me now?”
“You want sake? I know you don’t like it.”
“No.”
“Then you’re welcome.”
The chef leaned slightly toward Keiko and asked her something in Japanese.
Before Keiko could answer, Leah spoke up.
Apparently every important answer had to earn its place.
“Would you mind doing the meal in English?”
The chef glanced between them.
Leah smiled pleasantly.
“My mother is perfectly fluent.”
Keiko slowly turned her head toward Leah.
Leah returned the look.
There it was again.
Nuclear deterrence over sushi.
Keiko’s mouth curled into a small smile.
“English would be lovely, thank you.”
The chef nodded. “Of course.”
“I do love it when you practice your Japanese, Leah. It would be such a shame if you lost it.”
“I watch all my hentai unsubtitled and in the original Japanese. I keep up just fine.”
The chef gave a quiet chuckle at that.
Shortly after, before the cold war between Leah and Keiko could warm up, a small dish was placed in front of each of us.
“Simmered oyster, maitake mushroom, and dashi.”
It was tiny. Beautiful, but tiny.
I’d been warned there would be a lot of courses, but apparently this was going to be one of those meals where dinner arrived by postage stamp.
Leah picked up the oyster with her chopsticks. I copied her. She then tipped the bowl and drank the broth, so I copied that too.
Keiko looked at me.
“You’re quite proficient with chopsticks. Very good, Mia. I was prepared to rescue you.”
“She doesn’t require rescuing, Mother.”
Keiko glanced at her. “Apparently not.”
In the lull between dishes, Leah immediately turned back toward Keiko.
“Right. Now that we’re between courses. Why are you bringing all these people to New York?”
Keiko raised her hands slightly in a you got me gesture.
“Fine, Leah-chan. You got me.”
Keiko took another sip of her drink before continuing.
“I’m setting up the New York branch of Takahashi Events Group.”
“TEG is getting a New York office? Are you moving here?”
“No. I’m not moving Aiko away from her friends, and your father doesn’t like New York. Too busy, he says. So the people here are going to run the events, but they’re also going to start hiring locally. I’m setting up the basics. A new office, legal counsel on retainer, all the boring infrastructure.”
Leah stopped.
“You’re opening an office.”
“I believe I just said that.”
“Mother.”
Leah leaned forward.
“Who is running it?”
Three small pieces of squid appeared in front of us.
Leah actually sighed.
“Simmered squid, stuffed with squid eggs.”
I looked down at it. Apparently dinner had decided this conversation needed a commercial break.
Leah looked at me.
“Notice how every important answer somehow arrives after another course?”
Keiko looked delighted.
“Good meals should never be rushed.”
I glanced at Leah. She picked up a piece with her chopsticks and ate it. I followed suit, doing my best impression of someone who had eaten squid before and wasn’t experiencing an entirely new sensation.
Keiko made a small delighted sound as she ate.
“Konna ni oishii ika wa hajimete desu,” she said to the chef.
He replied, “Arigatou gozaimasu. Sou itte itadakete kouei desu.”
“Mother.” Leah’s voice sharpened. “English.”
That didn’t sound like someone correcting table manners.
It sounded like someone steering the conversation back where she wanted it.
Keiko looked entirely unrepentant. “I told him it was the best squid I’ve ever had.”
“You can compliment the chef in English.”
“He is Japanese.”
“Manaita kyaku o kaiwa kara hazushitara, kāsan no kao ga tatanai deshou.”
Keiko paused.
“Fine. I understand your point. I will try to control myself.”
She turned to me.
“I’m sorry for my rudeness, Mia. I should not have spoken in a language you don’t understand when I invited you here as my guest. Leah has reminded me that I’m supposed to be a good host. Please forgive me.”
I looked at Keiko, then at Leah, even at the chef, who was trying very hard not to look at any of us.
“Of course you’re forgiven. I took no offense.”
“Leah is quite strict about behavior, and much better than me at maintaining decorum. When she was seven, she complained about the seating arrangements at school lunch because apparently they weren’t mixing the girls and boys correctly, and it was forming groups that were unhealthy for the ‘learning process.’ She’s always been a good anchor for me when I get distracted and stop paying attention to my surroundings.”
“She’s very good at that.”
“And I’m sure you help her in other ways.”
Leah raised her hand. “If you’re going to talk about me, could I at least be part of the conversation?”
“Did Leah tell you about George?”
I blushed. “She mentioned him.”
Leah objected. “Why are you bringing up George?”
“He’s a good example of how you trained someone to meet your father and me. The poor boy was packed with so much Japanese cultural etiquette, he almost made my husband adopt him when he sang enka with him after dinner.”
I gave a small laugh. “Okay, that part is new to me.”
Leah broke in. “Well, I was somewhat set on having George as my life partner at that point. I wanted to make sure he fit in with the rest of my life. I think that was perhaps what made him break up with me.”
Keiko looked over at Leah. “I’m happy to see you realize that now, rather than believing he was a cheating liar who wanted to make a fool of you.”
Leah sighed. “I’d just turned sixteen, full of hormones and new feelings. I hope I can be excused for some missteps of youth?”
Keiko put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “I do forgive you, Leah. Please don’t think I hold it against you.”
I was wondering what exactly had happened here. It sounded like Leah had murdered George, but from what she’d told me, he’d become a lawyer and married some woman. That sounded like a pretty happy life.
More food arrived, and we circled around topics like this for the next few dishes. Keiko would tell some anecdote about Leah, Leah would defend herself, but eventually admit that yes, she had done that.
It felt like Keiko was carefully disarming old landmines.
Around the fourteenth course I was pleasantly buzzed and comfortably close to full.
Then someone informed me there were still six courses left.
And decided I could indeed handle this.
The chef placed the next piece in front of me.
“Hokkaido uni, over seasoned rice.”
Keiko glanced over. “Have you had uni before?”
“I’ve been to uni. I have a bachelor’s.”
Leah closed her eyes.
Keiko smiled. “Sea urchin.”
“Oh.” I looked down at the plate. “Then no.”
“It’s quite a treat. Good Hokkaido uni isn’t always easy to get outside Japan.”
I put the whole piece in my mouth. It practically dissolved, creamy and slightly sweet, followed by this clean ocean taste that spread across my tongue.
“Mmmm.”
“How often do you go back to Japan?” I asked.
“We try to go once a year. If we can’t, we try to get my parents and my husband’s parents to come over for the holidays. Have you ever been?”
“Oh no, I’ve never left America, I’m afraid.”
“Then I’m sure Leah will make a traveler of you soon. Make sure your passport is up to date.”
I glanced over at Leah. She had her eyes closed and seemed to be savoring the uni.
When she opened them, she looked over at Keiko.
“What are you hinting at?”
Keiko shifted in her seat. “Well, about that… back to your question.”
“What question?”
“The one I kept dodging. Who was going to run TEG New York.”
“It’s Alan, right? He’s been angling for your role. Or Mark? Buy him out from the competition, eat the competition back home?”
“No. I was thinking it could be you.”
Leah went completely still.
Keiko didn’t continue.
She simply waited, for a full minute.
“You want me to run TEG New York?”
“Yes.”
Leah didn’t blink. She just stared at her mother.
“Sending you to New York was a test case. Get you set up on your own, see how you fared. I had bets with your father about it. I thought you’d hate your job, insult the wrong person, and call me pretending you’d resigned on principle. Your father thought you’d thrive, build your own little empire, and shed any ties with us.”
Keiko sighed.
“As usual, your father knew you better. So I decided to strike while the iron was hot and get you into the family business before you built something that started competing with us.”
Leah worked her mouth for a moment before any sound came out.
“I… was not planning on running an event company.”
“Those contracts I’m working on were originally meant for you. The first thing they asked was whether you were already under contract with TEG or whether they could hire you independently.”
Keiko took another sip of her drink.
“So that’s why I rushed over. Why I took on the contracts personally, and promised to get you involved in future work once we sorted out your H-1B situation.”
I looked at Keiko. “Leah has a visa problem?”
“No, Mia. Her work authorization is tied to the company that sponsored her. She can’t simply quit and start working for someone else. She needs another employer willing to sponsor her and handle the transfer.”
“So if they fire her, she has to leave?”
“Not immediately, but she can’t just keep working wherever she likes. She needs another employer willing to take her on and deal with the paperwork.”
“And TEG can do that?”
Keiko smiled.
“Earlier today, I hired Fragomen to handle the immigration side. H-1Bs are rather touchy nowadays, and I want this done quickly. Proskauer is on retainer and already setting up the New York entity for TEG. We should have most of it wrapped up by the end of the week.”
Leah licked her lips before speaking.
“I’m not sure I want to work for you, Mother.”
“And I can’t offer you anything until we clear the immigration issue. Please, give it some thought. I can assure you, my offer will be very generous.”
“Could I marry Leah and get her a green card?”
The moment the sentence left my mouth, I realized I’d drunk a bit too deeply of the umeshu.
Leah slowly turned toward me.
Keiko did the same.
Oh boy.
“I meant legally. For immigration.”
“Thank you for clarifying,” Leah said.
Keiko covered her smile with her glass.
New plates were placed in front of us, and the chef announced,
“Grilled nodoguro, with daikon and sudachi.”
I picked up my chopsticks and partook. Like everything else in this meal, it melted on my tongue and tasted of three or four things I’d never tasted before.
The rest of the evening played out with Leah asking questions about responsibilities, staffing, and how much freedom she’d have to expand the company into smaller events, like booths and support services for gaming conventions.
It seemed Leah already had some idea of the event company she wanted to build. It just wasn’t quite the company her mother ran, and she wasn’t about to give that up.
The final plate arrived, and the chef explained:
“Kuzukiri with kuromitsu and salt-milk ice cream.”
“Oh, ice cream.” Perhaps the first dish of the evening I actually understood.
This one was eaten with a spoon. There were translucent noodles covered in syrup alongside the ice cream. It was sweet and savory, and an excellent end to the whole meal.
After Leah finished her last bite, she continued.
“Okay. I’m not saying I’ll take the role, but give me the freedom to pursue other types of events and I’ll consider it. I also want a say in whoever takes Alan’s position. I can’t work with another Alan for any extended period of time.”
Keiko smiled.
“You’re negotiating.”
“I’m establishing the conditions under which I might become interested.”
“Of course.”
We thanked the chef for his work and prepared to leave. Keiko was handed the bill, and I made the mistake of glancing at it.
Oh.
I suddenly understood why I’d never eaten food like this before.
We’d just eaten two months of my rent.
My stomach tightened. Not enough to threaten any of the excellent food I’d just put into it, but enough that I suddenly felt guilty for having eaten it.
It wasn’t exactly guilt. Keiko could clearly afford it, and I hadn’t ordered the place. It was something closer to embarrassment.
Like I’d accidentally wandered into a world where people ate my rent for dinner and nobody had thought to warn me.
Once outside, Leah immediately looked down at her phone and ordered us a ride home.
Keiko touched my arm and drew me half a step away.
“I assume you’re sleeping with my daughter.”
I nearly choked.
“No, no, it’s fine,” she said. “Leah has never cared much about gender where partners are concerned.”
She glanced toward Leah, who was still occupied with her phone.
“I like you, Mia. You remind me of my husband when he was younger”
“Is that good?”
Keiko smiled. “For Leah? Very. So I want to give you one piece of advice.”
“Okay?”
“Don’t cheat on her.”
I frowned.
Keiko’s expression remained pleasant.
“Leah can be very dangerous when she decides someone has made a fool of her.”
She glanced toward her daughter again.
“When she feels betrayed, she doesn’t lash out. She studies you. She finds the things you care about, the things you depend on, and then she finds a way to hurt them.”
I stared at her.
“That sounds… pretty fucking serious.”
“It was.” Keiko paused. “But it was also many years ago. Perhaps she has grown out of it.”
Something about the way she said perhaps did not fill me with confidence.
Leah walked over.
“Ride is two minutes away. What are you two talking about?”
“Grandchildren,” Keiko said immediately. “If you two are getting married, I was asking whether you planned to adopt or use a clinic.”
“I was explaining to your mother that I have very easy access to sperm. No clinic required.”
Leah looked between us.
She clearly knew we were both lying.
Apparently she decided she had already fought enough battles with her mother for one evening.
“Mother, it has been a lovely evening. Thank you for inviting Mia and me. Please send me the details of your proposal, and I’ll review them at my leisure.”
A black Mercedes pulled up behind Leah.
“Mia, let’s go.”
I stepped toward her, then turned back to Keiko.
“It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope I see you again soon.”
“You will,” Keiko said.
I wasn’t entirely sure whether that was a promise or a threat.