“Ah.” Manning shifted the phone to his right ear, driving with his left as he drove with the sporadic traffic down Amashita-dori. “What time do you have to get up by?”
“At least seven-thirty. If I can.”
“I see. Well…I have to get up early tomorrow, too. So I’m not asking for a late night or anything. I was thinking dinner.”
Another pause. “I see. What did you have in mind?”
“Bourbon Street?”
“Mmm…” Ryoko took a moment and thought it over. “Too spicy. I would prefer Cicada.”
“Then Cicada it is. What time shall I get you?”
“Seven o’clock, please.”
“I’ll see you at seven.”
He was a little late making it to Ryoko’s due to traffic, but she didn’t seem to mind, especially when he came around and opened the passenger door for her. She touched his cheek as she slid into the Legend; Japan was a place where women didn’t often experience people opening doors for them of their own volition.
Cicada was a trendy Mediterranean restaurant situated on Gaien-Nishi streets in the Manimi-Azabu district. It was run by a Westerner who had been trained in the culinary arts of Spain, and the establishment had a rather unique focus on sherry. As the server led them to their table, Manning could see the eyes of most of the men following Ryoko as she strolled with a quiet confidence through the restaurant. She was dressed in an understated but elegant black skirt and matching silk blouse, but the clothes clung to the curves of her body in a way that was guaranteed to attract attention. When the Japanese patrons saw that she was with a tall, middle-aged
After they were seated, Manning declined the wine list, settling for water instead. They ordered appetizers- roasted calamari stuffed with prosciutto for him and lobster gazpacho cocktail for her-which were delivered to them with a rapid grace that Manning admired. And Ryoko was approached twice by young men, seeking her autograph. Manning found that to be surreal, to be seated in a fine dining establishment as a well-dressed man in his 30s gushed to Ryoko, telling her she was his favorite AV star. Ryoko thanked both of them graciously, signed autographs, and posed for pictures which were taken on the admirers’ cell phones.
“I’m sorry,” Ryoko apologized after each interruption.
“Gosh, maybe I should get an autograph too. I could probably sell it for millions of yen online.”
“I don’t think so. Even my underwear doesn’t go for that much.”
Manning coughed and sputtered. Ryoko laughed gently and squeezed his hand.
“So how long will you be working tomorrow?” Manning asked after he had recovered his composure.
“Mmm. This is good,” Ryoko commented as she tasted the shrimp. “I’m afraid I’m not sure. For most of the day, at least. It’s a week-long shoot, here in Tokyo, then some shots in the south. It’ll be brutally hot down there this time of year, but it could be worse.”
Manning cocked a brow. “Well, seeing as you won’t have much on anyway….”
Ryoko laughed. “You are a
“As always, darling, as always.” Manning tried to keep the tone light, despite the fact that he would be leaving Japan for God knew how long. Usually, he relished the idea of leaving, even if it was for a short time; as a stranger in a decidedly strange land, there were times when leaving was a practical necessity, if just to preserve what might be left of his sanity. But with all that had happened, and all that might happen now that Chen Gui was back, Manning was uneasy. Add to that the mystery surrounding his latest assignment. During their professional relationship, Chen Gui had never been one to “loan out” Manning’s services, which likely meant there was more to the assignment than what the Shanghainese had told him. Much, much more.
Dinner was served. Manning chose the lamb tagine, while Ryoko surprisingly took the grilled sirloin with cresson. He sometimes wondered just how much she ate when they weren’t together, because when they did dine out, she didn’t seem fazed by such things as counting calories.
He must’ve been staring at her for a little too long, because she suddenly began staring back. Manning withstood it for a few moments. “What is it?”
“I was going to ask the same thing.”
Manning leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Sorry, was just someplace else, I guess.”
“Are you all right?” Ryoko asked.
“Sure.”
After a moment, she reached across the table and touched his hand lightly. “I think maybe that’s not so?”
Manning sighed. “I’ll be going away for a while, Ryo-chan.”
“Oh?” Ryoko looked down at her plate suddenly. After a brief pause, she cut off another piece of steak. “Can you tell me where?” She knew better than to ask what he would be doing.
“San Francisco. Home, actually.”
“Ah.” She smiled and looked back up at him. “So it’s not so bad, then.”
“I will be working, unfortunately.”
“I see. Well. You’ll be all right?”
Manning put down his silverware and clasped his hands before him. “That’s actually what I wanted to ask you. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. And there may be times when I won’t be able to contact you, or vice versa. It could be a few days, or a few weeks. Maybe even a few months.”
“That long,” she said. Her tone was unconcerned, but she wasn’t meeting his eyes right now, and that bothered Manning more than he might have normally cared to admit.
“Yes, maybe that long. And I need to know you’ll be okay during that time.”
Ryoko met his eyes after a time. “When did you find this out?”
“Just this morning.”
“And you’ll be leaving tomorrow?”
“Yes. My flight leaves at about six tomorrow evening. So…how about it? Will you be able to get along…?”
Ryoko smiled again. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”
She leaned back in her chair and faced him directly. “I’ll be fine, Jerry. You don’t have to feel like you always need to take care of me.”
“Certainly!”
Manning smiled tightly and returned to his dinner. It didn’t taste quite as good as it had before, but he kept at it. They finished their meals in silence, and declined both dessert and coffee. Manning drove her home, and she was at her apartment by nine.
As Manning put the car in park and started to open his door to get out, Ryoko put her hand on his left wrist.
“Please wait.”
Manning settled back in the Legend’s leather seat, and looked over at her. She kept her gaze focused on the car parked in the space ahead of them. For the longest of moments, she did not speak. She didn’t even move, and it was only the rise and fall of her bosom that convinced him she was still alive.
“I thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” she said finally, her voice soft and far away. “I don’t lie to myself about what was happening to me. I was dying, and I was pathetic, and I did become a burden to you. I’ve tried hard to repay that,” she continued hurriedly, not giving him the time to speak, “but I know it’s nothing I ever really
