We're out to dinner again. The hodge-podge gang of Ofunato residents who sometimes help at the relief supplies depot who also double as volunteers are my people. This is the same group I had dinner with back in May when through drunken whispers I was told it was Seiji's birthday. This is the same group who wanted me to channel Marilyn Monroe as I sang "Happy Birthday" to Seiji.
Everyone in this group lost something or someone. Seiji, now 26, lost his mother. Everyone knows Seiji so this means everyone knows someone who lost someone. Everyone in the group lost someone else close to them. One woman, Miki-san, lost her business (washed away by the tsunami) and thus is now out of a job. Another, Kimura-san, lost his car. The list goes on and on.
What I love about them is their fierce loyalty and dedication. They make each other laugh. They truly enjoy each other's company. It's beautiful to watch. I find myself envious and at the same time I'm flattered they've let me into their inner circle.
Seiji looks well. We sit across from each other.
"How are you?" I ask. Before he can answer, Kimura-san, a man with closely cropped hair sitting next to him leans over, beaming and says, "Seiji's in love! Again!"
"Really?!" I say. "Do tell. Who is she?" Seiji turns beat red. I melt.
"Should I tell her?" he asks Sato-san, a young woman with pigtails sitting on the other side of Kimura-san.
"Of course you should tell me!" I say with as much mock indignation as I can muster up. He turns red again. I love this man.
"It's Lily," Kimura-san says.
"Lily? Who's Lily?" I'm now confused. "What happened to Beth?"
"See?" Kimura-san says. "That's why I said 'again'. He's in love with someone else. Beth? Old news. Keep up with us, girl." I laugh.
I turn to T, the Hip-Hop Buddha sitting next to me and say "do I know Lily?"
"I don't think so," he replies. "She came after you left." Ah. Okay.
"So," I say, turning back to Seiji. "Tell me about Lily." Here Miki-san, the woman who lost her business sitting on the other side of me leans in and says to Seiji, "are you talking about Lily again?"
"Lily?!" Kazu-san, clear at the other end of the table yells. "Seiji! Lily? Again?" Everyone laughs.
"Will someone please tell me who Lily is!" I squeal.
"Okay," Seiji's nod is determined. "But you have to help me."
"Help you? How?"
"You need to give me some phrases. You need to tell me how American women think."
"Tell me first and I'll see what I can do," I tease.
Seiji goes into excruciating detail of how they met, how many times they've gone out ("in a group" he says, shaking his head), where they've gone, how there's always someone sitting between him and her. On and on and on I hear this young man pour out his soul to me about his love for Lily. It's really just simply completely cute. I grin as he tells me all this.
Kimura-san says again, "I swear. All this guy talks about is Lily." Everyone laughs again.
Taro-san, now completely drunk says, "He even picked out clothes for her the other day."
"Oh, now see," I say. "That's just too cute."
"Wait! Wait, wait, wait. I did not pick out clothes for her!" Seiji's objection makes this whole conversation that much more animated.
"You did!" Taro-san barks back. "You were holding up this dress and saying 'do you think Lily would like this?' and then you pulled out this skirt and put it up against your waist and flipped it over and you were totally checking it out to see whether it would fit Lily."
"Wait," Seiji says again. "That's not..." at which point Taro-san says, "Unless you were checking to see whether or not the skirt fit you!" More laughter. Guffawing, in fact. Kimura-san starts crying he's laughing so hard.
"It's okay," I say, leaning over to Seiji. "I think that's nice." I'm mocking just only the slightest bit.
"I wasn't trying it on," he says.
"Of course you weren't."
"I picked it out of the bag--relief supplies, see--and I just happened to hold it up to my stomach to look down at it and then I flipped it over to see if there were any spots on it."
"Perfect," I say.
"But you were looking to see whether or not it would fit Lily, right?" Miki-san asks.
"Was not."
"Was!" Taro-san yells.
"I really wasn't," Seiji says to me.
"I believe you," I say grinning.
"See," Seiji reaches behind his chair and picks up his bag. There's a kangaroo head sticking out from the top zipper.
"I picked this up, too." Granted, the stuffed animal is cute. The head sticking out from the bag makes it cuter. American women, however, are not going to be particularly fond of a 26-year old man who like stuffed animals. How to break the news.....think, think, think.
"Oh, and this box of curry," Seiji says quickly, as if to make sure I don't think he picks out just stuffed animals.
"You have to tell her you're allowed to take things from relief supplies," Kimura-san says, noticing my silence.
"Oh, right. I'm allowed to take things from relief supplies." I wasn't thinking about this at all.
"I'm sure. No, that's fine. You guys know more about this than I do." I pause.
"Seiji," I say, and now suddenly everyone's listening. Crap. I was hoping to be more subtle in telling him to cute little kangaroos popping out of bags won't fly with Lily.
"Never mind," I laugh. Hoping to not make what I was about to say seem so interesting.
"No, no, no," Seiji says. "You were going to say something important. I can tell." Good grief. Think fast, girl. I decide to come out with it.
"So, see," I start. "That stuffed animal..." and before I can finish, Kazu-san says, "He can't carry that thing around, right?" And then turning to Seiji, he mock-scolds, "I told you Lily will think you're a freak if you walk around with that kangaroo head sticking out of your bag."
"How did this whole conversation become about Lily?" Kimura-san cocks his head to one side with a look of faux confusion.
"Lily, Lily, Lily," Sato-san says. "I wish someone would love me as much as he loves Lily." Here, all the men pat around her on the shoulder and others at the other end of the table chime in and they all mutter at once that yes someday she'll find a good man, and sweetie you just has to be patient, and she doesn't want Seiji anyway, and he'll never succeed with Lily at which point Seiji yells, "Hey! I might!" and everyone laughs again.
This continued for three hours. Side conversations between two people here and three people there all seemed to converge back to Seiji and his love for Lily. When someone would say Lily's name either to Seiji or as a part of the conversation, someone from four or five seats away would inevitably stop what they were saying and lean deep into the table, put on their best fake frown and say, "Lily? Again? Seriously?"
"It's good you're in love," I say to Seiji as I hope no one overhears what I'm saying.
"Yeah," he says and grins. Then he looks up at me and says again, "Yeah, it's good." Immediately I feel tears. Here's a man who lost his mother three months ago and is now in love, albeit again. I quickly smile and say, hoping my voice won't crack "You're going to be okay." He's quiet for a minute and then say, "I know."
Sato-san, the woman with pigtails has been listening. She says to me, "Seiji can't tell Lily he loves her quite yet."
"Oh? Why not."
"I'm taking the exam to be a cop," Seiji says.
"Are you?" I beam. "Good for you! You'll make a great cop!" This is clearly too much of a compliment, so in true Japanese form Seiji has to deflect it by saying, "I haven't passed yet."
"He can't tell Lily until he takes the exam," Sato-san explains. "It's bad luck." Okay. I don't challenge this way of thinking.
"You will though. You'll pass," I say and then stop. "Oh. I've got it." I pull out my small notebook from my purse. "What?" Sato-san says, grinning and curious. I look up at Seiji.
"You need to tell Lily about this exam." Seiji's grin is possibly the most beautiful sight I've seen all evening.
"Right," he says. "I do."
"You really do," I say, "and here's why." I pause for dramatic affect and say, "You want to know what American women like?" Suddenly everyone's listening again. Of course they are. The timing of when they delve into their own conversations versus when they listen in to mine, it's simply uncanny.
"I won't speak for all American women," I say.
"I understand, I understand," Seiji says and everyone now stops everything they were doing, chopsticks raised half way, glasses of beer in hand. Good grief. A bit of privacy, people! Please!
"See, American women, rather a lot of American women," and I pause again, "like men in uniforms." The whole table buzzes at once as everyone starts comparing theories on whether or not this will increase Seiji's chances of hooking up with Lily.
"Really?" Seiji looks at me.
"Really," I say. "I do. I think men in uniforms are hot." I add for good measure, the recent newspaper article citing how a poll taken after the earthquake (why anyone actually took this poll is beyond me) showing Japanese women think cops and Self Defense Force guys are the hottest, most manly men in Japan.
"That's gooood," Taro-san says. "This boy needs all the help he can get."
For the life of me, I can't tell you what the rest of the evening was spent discussing. I can tell you Seiji now knows how to say in English "I'm taking an exam to become a police officer" and "This is my uniform" and other sentences that he can use on Lily to hopefully woo her affections. My notebook was filled with short English phrases and words Seiji can use with Lily. I lost a lot of pages out that night and Seiji went home with a stack of folded over sheets of paper. He would put them in one pocket and then mutter, "No, I'll forget it if I put it there," and then slide them into a more obvious spot, patting the zipped pocket as if to make sure the papers stay there. A most beautiful sight to behold. I try not to choke up.
Good luck, dear man. I wish you all the happiness you deserve.
That's a great story, very cute.
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