the cabin a few minutes later, he steered me around to the side of the boat that wasn’t facing the harbor, so that we could talk.
“Don’t count on taking the guys back to the hotel; they already said they plan to stay around the yacht club for a few hours to get their land legs back,” Michael said. “Frankly, I think they don’t mind being showered with free drinks and adulation.”
“A little adulation is in order for the fastest finishers in your class.”
“We don’t know yet if we’re the fastest-and I don’t really care, to tell the truth.”
“Come on.”
“I’m just glad I did the race, and it got me out here, with you. I have to say, though, that I’m more than ready to be on land and get a full night’s sleep.”
Michael didn’t just need sleep, he needed help walking. After the customs official finally cleared the boat, Michael hopped off, then nearly collapsed on the deck. Two men from the yacht club steadied him until I’d made my own precarious, high-heeled way off the boat and could walk him up to the yacht club, where I left him with his bags while I walked back to the mall for the car. I decided I didn’t want to risk Michael collapsing as he crossed Ala Moana Boulevard.
“Once again, you’re taking care of me,” Michael said as we continued by car from Ala Moana toward the Waikiki district. “Though I can’t say this vehicle has the Rei Shimura style to which I’m accustomed.”
“Yes, I know it. But what can I do? My Hawaiian uncle chose it for us,” I said, more aware than ever of the shiny new vehicles around me, the tour buses, convertibles, and luxury sedans streaming with us toward Waikiki.
“No offense meant, but I’ll see about renting my own car tomorrow. So, tell me about your newfound relatives. You were so nervous before you left.”
“Most of them are pleasant. But there’s a complicated agenda-just like I expected.” I began telling the story in a more or less chronological fashion, with Michael listening quietly. It was complicated enough that by the time we’d parked in the garage around the corner from the Hale Koa hotel, I was only halfway through Uncle Yoshitsune’s story, at the point where he’d been interned.
“I wonder if it’s true about his tampering with military mail,” Michael said as we stepped up a curving stairway and then entered a large, breezy open-air lobby, where ceiling fans whirred and a military population lounged on rattan furniture with crisply striped cushions.
“Apparently he was suspected, but never formally charged, which makes it seem quite unfair.”
Michael paused by the check-in desk, waving a family with four small children to go ahead of him. “We’ll have to pick up on this conversation later, but should I look for corroborating records at the Pearl Harbor archives? You could probably get in yourself with the Freedom of Information act, but it’d take longer.”
“That would be great.” I shouldn’t have been so happily surprised by his interest, but I was, especially since he must have been exhausted. “And another thing-I hope to see Harue and Yoshitsune’s old cottage, which can be reached by a road that runs through the old Barbers Point naval air station. If I give you the address, can you look up the route to get there?”
“Sure, and once I get a military access sticker, we can drive there together.” Michael leaned on the counter, and I wondered if he was suffering a balance problem again, or just exhaustion. Probably both. Now I was thinking I’d requested too much.
“That’s awfully generous of you, and I don’t expect you to do a bit more, honestly. It’s your week off, and you have Kurt, Parker and Eric to gad about with, and sailing honors to accept-”
“Twelve days and eleven nights are about all I can take of that crew.” Michael reached over with his free hand and squeezed mine with it. “Come on, Rei, let me help you with your family research. It’ll give us more time together.”
14
MICHAEL WAS A man of routine. Before he even opened the door to his room, he’d located a laundry and had dumped almost the entire contents of his duffel bag into a coin-operated washer. After that we went up to his room, which was quite small, but functional, with two double beds, a dresser, and a closet-sized bathroom.
“Maybe I should go down to the lobby to give you some privacy,” I said as Michael unzipped a small case containing clean, non-sailing clothes and toiletries.
“No, no. Just kick back for a few minutes. I’ll be really fast,” Michael promised.
He wasn’t fast at all-and I could understand why, not having had a hot shower for a week. But after a while he came out with a towel wrapped around his waist, got some shaving supplies out of his duffel, and set himself up in a narrow galley space with a fluorescent light and a sink, just outside the bathroom.
I spent a pleasant minute looking at his hard chest, lightly furred with hair that had turned more silvery from the time at sea. Michael glanced back at me, in the mirror, and nicked his neck.
“You cut yourself, and it’s my fault because I distracted you.” I went closer to examine him.
“No, it’s just that I can barely keep my eyes open to see what I’m doing.”
“Let me do it then.” I rinsed the razor, and pressed a hot, wet facecloth to his neck and face, holding it there for a half-minute.
“This could be dangerous,” Michael said.
“It’s a bit tricky, when you have this much growth,” I said while lathering his face and neck with Barbasol. I shaved his neck first, and then seated myself on the edge of the vanity to be closer to his face. He closed his eyes, and they stayed closed as I finished and pressed a warm cloth across his face again.
“You’re an excellent barber,” Michael said, opening his eyes and turning to the mirror to survey the results. “I wish you could do this on a regular basis.”
“I’m afraid that’s not part of my job description.” I spoke lightly, thinking to myself about how I wished I didn’t work for him. How nice it would have been if I could have met Michael as just a guy in another office at the State Department or the Pentagon. If he’d never hired me, we could have done whatever we wanted, from the start.
“Rei,” Michael said, stroking the curve of my neck with his finger, mimicking what I’d done to him with the razor. “At sea there’s plenty of time just to stand and think. I’m starting to conclude that…well…perhaps we’ve been making things more complicated than necessary.”
“What do you mean?” There was so little space between us, with me up on the sink just a few inches from his chest. My fingers longed to press themselves against him, but I held off.
“You don’t work for me right now. Your current OCI contract closed out seven weeks ago.” Michael took a deep breath. “To make things even more above board, I’m on vacation for the next seven days. We’re not involved in company business at all.”
“Remember what the agency psychiatrist said.” I couldn’t look at him.
“It was such nonsense that I’ve put it all out of my head…”
“He pointed out that we have this problem because we’re defining ourselves by gender. If we were two guys, we wouldn’t be in this wretched position to begin with…”
“I like our position just the way it is,” Michael said, looking down at our bodies pressed up against each other. “And I’m so glad you’re not a guy. Come on, Rei, tell me what you really feel. Not what you think you should say.”
“I want more. I don’t know what exactly,” I said slowly. “The thing is, I made a personal pledge to myself to focus on my helping my father recover. I can’t trust you right now. You’re overcome by fatigue, and you’ve told me that your hormones go blotto when you’re tired.”
“Stop,” said Michael, and he pulled me against him, hard, so there was no more space, and then we were kissing each other, the kind of kiss that I’d wanted on the boat, but couldn’t have because of all the people. Michael kissed me again and again, tasting of lime and toothpaste, and I drowned in it, thinking that maybe things had changed after all.
Michael’s fingers traveled over my bare back, then slipped under the edges of my dress. As my own hands began moving over Michael’s bare chest, I felt something buzz between our hips.
