Page 163 of Prickly Romance

“She was too young.”

“And that is a mercy.”

“Are you upset that I am here?” My mother finds my eyes. “Do you think I believe the same as the elders?”

“I do not know what you are planning.”

“Perhaps I simply miss my son.” She glances around. “Now where do you keep your chopsticks?”

“Mother.” I take her hand to stop her from flitting. This is important. I need her full attention.

My mother shakes me off. She wipes her hands on the apron and arches a brow at me. “Ryotaro, we do not have time.”

“I am dating someone,” I say.

The words rattle in the air, floating around as if they cannot find a home.

My mother is a strong, formidable woman. She does not curb her words nor does she hide her thoughts. So it is unsettling to see her hesitate, her eyes shifting, her body language full of discomfort.

Frowning, I lean forward and say, “Her name is Dejonae and she is important to me. Niko has already met her. The two of them are close.”

“You do not need to tell me this.” She shakes her head. “I am not foolish enough to believe you have remained single since moving to America. There is much temptation here in the West.” She shakes me off and steps lightly to the counter, fiddling around with the pickles. “Did I bring enough side dishes?” she murmurs to herself.

“Mother—”

Niko flies into the kitchen and heads straight for her grandmother. The two collide in a joyous hug.

My mother’s delight is all over her face. She brought two giant suitcases from Japan—one was filled with seasonings, fermented soybean paste and pickles. The other was filled with expensive gifts and toys for Niko. Although they do not talk often, my mother dotes on her. She learned a bit of ASL and speaks exclusively in English so that Niko can understand her.

“How did you sleep, my princess?” she coos, tilting Niko’s dark face with her wrinkled hands. “Look at you. Did you grow overnight?”

Niko shakes her head.

I pat my daughter on the shoulder. When she turns to look at me, I sign, “Wash your hands and then we’ll eat.”

She nods her understanding and darts away.

There’s a knock on the back door.

My mother gasps. “Ryotaro, did you lock the door?”

“Of course I locked the door,” I murmur. “I lock every door before I go to sleep.”

“Why should you lock the back one? Now Ashanti has to knock like a stranger.” My mother swats my shoulder. “Go and let her in. Go.”

“Mother—”

My mother flings her chin in Ashanti’s direction.

I sigh heavily. Mother’s story about meeting Ashanti coincidentally in the airport is too convenient. Either way, it does not matter. I refuse to allow their machinations to bear fruit.

That is not only for my sake.

But for the company’s.

Yesterday, when Dejonae was angry with me, I could not focus on my meetings. Emails went unanswered. Phone calls went to voicemail. All I could see was her cold expression when she refused to join me in my office.

Dejonae has become a distraction to me.

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