Sushi for One? (14 page)

“And so she’s cutting off Mrs. Matsumoto and poking at us.

At me.”

Jenn nodded.

Lex sighed. That meant this whole thing could be so much more complicated. She hated complication.

“You know . . .” Jenn bit her lip again.

“What is it?”

“You’re not going to like hearing this.”

“I’m not going to bite your head off.”

“Well . . . those tickets are probably influencing men outside of work.” Jenn’s eyes radiated sympathy — not a pitying kind, but the kind that wished she could take away Lex’s pain.

“What do you mean?”

“Kin-Mun.”

She started as if a blast of air hit her in the face. “But he didn’t ask for the tickets. I’m the one — ”

“How did he bring up the subject?”

Lex thought back.
Hi, Kin-Mun. Oh, new job. Yeah, going to Seattle. Wish I could go to the game . . .

Her lungs collapsed. Or maybe her heart caved in. Regardless, she felt a huge echoing emptiness in her chest.

“Well, now I’m just depressed.” Lex sat back in her chair. To add to the List:
Must either not know about the perks of my job or not care about college sports events.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Jenn pushed her plate away.

“No, don’t feel bad. I needed to get my head out of the sand.” Lex stared at the steaming noodles and sighed. “I need a new strategy. I can’t really trust anyone who knows enough about my job.”

“That rules out your workplace, but not all volleyball guys.”

“And not Wassamattayu. I had planned to find another sponsor, but Grandma’s got her claws in practically the entire Japanese American community.”

“Oh, Lex. Grandma really does love us. She thinks this will make us happy.”

“Who are you kidding? Grandma just wants to make herself happy.”

Jenn’s eyes dropped. “It’s easier for you. She’s always at my parents’ place. Sometimes it’s just better to give in, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t. That’s not how I am.” Lex signaled for the waitress. “I’m not going down without a fight. Grandma can’t get at everyone — I just need to be more unconventional.”

Lex liked the beach but hated sand. It got everywhere, like it did now — into her shoes and socks, working into the waistband of her shorts and under her sports bra.

And like an idiot, she kept doing volleyball drills.

No, she wasn’t an idiot. She was dedicated. She needed to focus on the prize — getting into Wassamattayu, assuming she’d be invited to tryouts. She had to get into even better shape.

The Hong-Kong-style noodles for lunch yesterday hadn’t helped her any.

She finished her side-to-side shuffles and folded in half, panting. The breeze from the nearby business park cooled her and made the outdoor volleyball net ripple. The sun had warmed the sand, and it radiated heat like a toaster oven.

She set up for blocking drills at the net. Old and left out in the weather, it had been provided by the accounting firm from the business park, and it sagged toward her. Well, it hung between the two poles. Good enough for her. She squatted, then leaped.

The net slapped her elbow.
Ow!
She paused as the pain tingled and subsided down her arm. She wished she’d been more careful in self-defense class an hour ago. As long as the bruise didn’t affect her passing, she’d be fine.

Voices made her hesitate. Her back muscles stiffened.

In the large parking lot, a group of men all in their thirties, a mix of Asian, Indian, and Caucasian, headed toward the sand volleyball court. No, toward the basketball court nearby.

Most dressed in shorts and sneakers, but a few still had on business casual slacks and polo shirts. An evening pickup game, probably coworkers from one of the businesses. Nothing to worry about.

A few glanced at her. Were they really neutral glances?

Stop it.

There were a lot of them. What about mob mentality? Didn’t she read about that in
Newsweek
once?

You’re being paranoid.

She was by herself.

Now you’re just illogical.

Maybe she should get into her car and leave.

You need the training. They’re harmless guys.

Lex took a deep breath and stared at the gray, tattered net. She was such a basket case.

She squatted deep and leaped in a rapid series of three blocking motions. She sprinted a step to the side, then leaped into another three blocks. She continued all the way down the net.

She stood sucking in air by the pole, the net flapping against the metal in a soft, hollow ringing sound. The group of men had reached the basketball court and started stretching, practicing free throws. Very little chatter. Some good-natured ribbing and heckling.

It relaxed her. They looked and sounded like her brother or her male cousins and their friends. The pickup games in Campbell Park, her whining to be included and holding her own against them.

A movement in the parking lot caught her eye.

A tall, wild-haired Caucasian man, dressed in a cotton button-down shirt and slacks — both creased from a long work day. Staring intently at her.

She hardened her eyes to hide the violent shiver that shot from her neck to her lower back.

He wasn’t someone she knew. With his narrow face and scraggly beard, he reminded her of recording artist David Crowder, but since he probably worked for one of the tech companies in the business park, Lex wouldn’t be surprised if he had the IQ of Einstein and a couple PhDs under his belt. If only he’d stop staring at her.

Lex considered marching over there and getting in his face. He couldn’t stare at women and get away with it. She pursed her lips and stepped off the sand court.

A car horn. An SUV zipped into view and parked near the sand court. Her heart ramped up for a second, then Aiden got out. Funny, her heart rate didn’t slow back down.

Okay, so maybe she wouldn’t start a fight with Mr. Santa Cruz.

“What are you doing here?” She shaded the sun from her eyes with her hand.

“I should have figured you’d be here. The people at the volleyball clinic suggested doing sand drills, and some players from Nikkei told me about this court.”

“Yeah, there aren’t many free sand courts in this area.”

“So do you mind if I join you?”

Why not? Maybe she’d push herself into an even longer, more intense workout. That would be great. She’d be in terrific shape for tryouts. “Warm up and get moving.”

They spent an hour doing sprinting, blocking, hitting, and diving drills in the sand. Aiden knew a few new drills he’d picked up at the Stanford Volleyball Clinic, which challenged Lex even more. She felt exhausted but great after they finished.

They sat on the grass bordering the sand court, sucking down water and toweling off the rivers of sweat pouring down their faces. Lex had a new respect for Aiden’s terrific lung capacity — at points, she’d been the one breathing harder. It must be from his running.

“How’s your new job going?” Aiden dusted sand off his bare feet.

A knot tightened at the base of her neck. Aiden had heard about her job when she’d been talking with Kin-Mun. “It’s okay.” It would come any minute now —
Can you get me tickets for . . . ?

“Different from engineering, I’ll bet.”

“Yeah.”

Aiden looked her directly in the eyes. “You and I are a few of the lucky ones. Doing exactly what we love doing. Being good at it.”

In the warm, understanding light from his gaze, Lex felt energized and relaxed at the same time. The knot in her neck melted away. “You love physical therapy that much?”

He nodded. “It’s a rush, seeing a knee surgery patient jogging on the treadmill, seeing a carpal tunnel patient up their weight on the gym machines.”

Lex had always thought about the injuries associated with PT, not the healing. “That’s neat.”

“And you get to talk sports all day. It’s as if the job was made for you.”

It was, wasn’t it? For the first time, Lex caught a glimmer of the hand of God in all the crazy turns her life had taken lately. She hadn’t been talking to God much, but He’d still been orchestrating things. It gave her a weird feeling — both comforted at being taken care of, but also antsy that she hadn’t been as independent and in control as she thought she was.

Before she knew it, they’d been talking for over half an hour. Lex left reluctantly to go home and start packing for her move. She had a lot of stuff, so she might as well start early.

It was only as she waved at Aiden and drove away that she realized he’d never mentioned game tickets even once.

Her cell phone chirped. Home phone number. “Hey, Dad.”

“I’m glad I got a hold of you, Lex. I just got off the phone with our real-estate agent.”

“She sold the house already?”

“Even better. We got a huge bid.”

“That’s great, Dad.” She tried to muster more enthusiasm.

“But one thing the buyer stipulated is fast escrow.”

“What do you mean? How fast?”

“I’m sorry, Lexie. We have only three weeks to move out.”

EIGHTEEN

A
nd now for her favorite pastime — dealing with her bridezilla cousin. Lex had left it off as long as possible, but now it was late afternoon on Friday. She closed the door to her office, then sat and dialed Mariko’s number.

“Hello?”

Lex paused. The voice sounded sweet and silky — very un-Mariko.

“Mariko, it’s Lex.”

“What do you want?” Mariko barked in her normal voice.

“I can’t make it to the bridal shower tomorrow.”

“Yes. You. Can.” Each word stabbed like a knife.

Lex sighed. Mariko had gone hormonal. “Look, you and I both know I’m only a bridesmaid because Grandma dictated the bridal party to you. You don’t want me there messing up your fun with your friends.”

The pregnant pause cheered her. She could almost see Mariko waffling:
Grandma . . . fun with friends . . . Grandma . . . fun with friends . . .
“No deal.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Grandma will kill me, that’s why.” Mariko’s voice had a pinched tone.

“She won’t be there. How would Grandma ever find out if I didn’t show? Who would tell her?”

“Uh . . . Grandma will call and ask me how it went.”

That was a lame excuse, even for Mariko. Lex trusted her like she trusted Uncle Howard not to tell bad jokes. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” But her snap lacked genuine annoyance.

Why did Mariko adamantly want Lex to be there? “Did Grandma put you up to something? Did you invite some guy to introduce me to?”

“N-no! Like I’d go through the effort for you.”

“You wouldn’t. But you would for Grandma.”

“You’re so full of yourself. You will show up, and you won’t ruin anything. You’re always ruining things.”

Lex’s throat tightened. She swallowed painfully. “I do not.” She cleared her throat. “I do not.” There, she’d said that a little stronger.

Luckily, Mariko wasn’t listening to her. “Why’d
you
have to be the next OSFC? Then you wouldn’t be in my bridal party at all. Why couldn’t Venus have been next OSFC — she’d at least look good in the pictures. Or Jennifer — she’s always so easygoing. You are
not
leaving me to explain to Grandma why you couldn’t come.”

Lex tightened her grip on the phone. “Why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you?”

“You were born thirteen months after me, that’s what.”

Lex exhaled a hot breath. “Take it up with my dad.”

“You don’t realize how hard I had it all those years, being OSFC.”

“Wah, wah, wah. It’s all about
you.
” Lex wanted something to smash. “I am
not
going to your stupid shower just so that you can shove some guy at me.”

“It’s not a stupid shower — ”

“Do you know what kind of a week I’ve had?” Lex started ticking things off on her fingers. “I have to move out in three weeks, I had to divvy up all my stuff so Dad can have a garage sale this weekend, Dad’s moving in with Uncle Howard and they don’t have room for me! How would you like to be homeless and possessionless, all in three days?”

Mariko’s low, menacing voice carried clearly over the phone. “You
will
be there tomorrow or I’ll call Grandma personally and tell her you didn’t want to meet Burt.”

“Ha! You
are
shoving some guy at me.”

“You’re so juvenile. Be there at nine.”
Click.

Lex collapsed in her chair. Life was so not fair. A bridal shower with Mariko and all her girly-girly friends, laughing and having a good time, excluding tomboy Lex. Laughing at Lex while some totally uninterested guy tried to pretend he was. Then Grandma on the phone as soon as she leaves: “Well? How did he like her?”

This couldn’t come at a worse week. Forget about finding a boyfriend — Lex had to find housing. She felt doubly abandoned because it seemed like Dad couldn’t wait to get rid of her.

No, she shouldn’t think that way. Dad had been distracted lately.

He loved her. He and Uncle Howard would enjoy their bachelor apartment. She shouldn’t resent him for that. She was such a lousy daughter.

What — did she expect Dad to take care of her for her entire life?

May as well look for a few apartments online, since she wouldn’t have Internet access in ten days. She toggled her mouse to take her computer out of sleep mode.

Oh, she had mail. From Russell.

Lex, Congratulations! The SPZ Sponsorship fund has selected your junior high school girls’ club team for funding beginning in September . . .

What? She had to read it again.

Selected. Not rejected.

She had funding! Lex unleashed a whoop into her silent office.

She read the rest of the email.
The SPZ Sponsorship fund committee is enthusiastic about the opportunity to encourage more girls to join next year, to build community, to create opportunities for girls, and to influence other children in the area.

Funding is pending your team’s finishing record in the summer playoffs. This is not to demand perfection from your team, but to evaluate your own coaching skills.

Well, she supposed they wouldn’t want to back a hopelessly losing team. But oh, man. She’d look so bad if the girls’ team got killed during playoffs.

A press release has been sent to the newspaper —

Press release? So, if the girls’ team did badly, she’d not only look like a doofus, she’d make her
company
look bad to the entire community.

Lovely. No pressure.

Now Lex really needed Grandma’s money for playoffs. SPZ funding didn’t start until September. Mariko’s wedding was in May.

She needed a chump — er, boyfriend, until September. They also needed to actually look like a couple at the wedding.

Lex chewed on her lip. A niggling burrowed around in her gut.

She needed to find someone she wouldn’t mind looking lovey-dovey with. Well, that’s what she had the Ephesians List for, right?

She wouldn’t look like an idiot at the wedding, would she? A picture of Mariko and her posse of Asian Barbie dolls flashed in front of her. So glamorous, so with-it, so charming. Lex wasn’t ugly, but she wasn’t glamorous, she was never with-it, and she’d really rather not be charming to anyone.

No, there was nothing wrong with her. She’d show those girls, her aunties, Grandma. She had appeal. She wouldn’t be pitied, and certainly not by them. She could top those ninnies and their ninny boyfriends —

Ding!
The lightbulb went off.

She’d wow them with a superstar date. A boyfriend so dazzling they’d bow to her superior man-appeal.

She had called the A’s new pitcher just yesterday about an event with his old alma mater. They’d hit it off. She wondered if he’d agree to be a date for a wedding with guaranteed good Chinese food?

Or the new Giants’ shortstop. His best friend, UCLA’s alumni association’s representative,
adored
Lex for all the scouts she’d sent to the ball game last weekend.

Lex leaned back in her chair and beamed at the ceiling. This was going to be great.

They were after her.

Lex didn’t know how Grandma had found out about the free college game tickets. Maybe she’d bugged Lex’s phone. She wouldn’t put it past her.

But it didn’t matter how, anymore. The news was out. All of Grandma’s friends’ sons knew about it.

And they were all after Lex.

Her cell phone started ringing as she shut off her computer for the night. “Hello?” Oops, she only had fifteen minutes to get to Nikkei.

“Rreksoo Sakai?” The male voice speaking with a heavy Japanese accent made her pause as she grabbed her purse from her desk drawer.

“Speaking.”

“
Hajimemashte. Boku wa Akaoki Toya. Anata no obaasan —
”

“I don’t speak Japanese.” But she knew a few words, and Toya had definitely mentioned Lex’s grandmother. A dark suspicion made her grit her teeth as she made her way outside.

“Oh . . . you no speak?”

“Fourth generation, bud.”

“Ah, no. No ‘Bud.’ Toya — ”

“Toya, what did you need?”

“Ah. You grandmother, she friends with my mother.”

“Oh, no.”

“She say you pretty girl. You like sports. You get tickets for college games, yes?”

“What?” Lex dropped her car keys. “Where did you hear that?”

“
Okaasan —
”

His mother. “No, not interested. Good-bye.”

“But — ”

She closed her phone and slid into her car. The phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Rrek Sakkai?”

Chinese accent this time. Oh, no. Maybe she could throw him a curveball. “
Moshi-moshiiii! Otearai e itte mo iidesuka?
”

“Uh . . .”

“
Ichi, ni, san, shi, go! Hitotsu, futatsu, mitsu, yotsu!
”

“Er . . .
Ni hao ma?
”

Come on, hang up.
Lex didn’t know many more Japanese phrases. She supposed she could repeat the “going to the bathroom” phrase.

“
Otearai —
”

Click.

Lex stared at the offending phone in her palm. She could turn it off. But what if Wassamattayu called?

It rang.
Nononononono.
She let it ring again. Unknown San Jose number. With a painful grimace, she flipped it open. “H-hello?”

“Lex Sakai?” American accent.

“Yes?”

“Hi, my aunt is friends with your grandmother . . .”

Lex fielded two more calls on her way to volleyball. She skidded into the parking lot and rammed into a stall. Collecting her gear, she hustled toward the high school gym doors.

“Lex Sakai?” One of three Asian guys stood near the open doorway.

She stiffened, then peered through the door at the volleyball players just inside. What was she thinking — that some strangers would attack her five feet away from her friends?

She turned to the one who had spoken, a tall, thin boy who looked like he had just graduated college. “Listen, guys, I’m late for volleyball. I’ll talk to you all later.” If they stayed around until later. She rather hoped they didn’t.

A second boy moved forward to block her way with his broad chest. “Okay, so you know your grandmother told our moms about the tickets.” He grinned and spread his hands wide. “We’ve all been nagged. We understand. We’re easy.”

The first guy moved closer. “We don’t have to go out on a date. If you have tickets to the Cal game this weekend, and you’re not going, just give them to one of us. We’ll tell our mothers we had a terrific dinner and a movie.”

Lex’s jaw ached from dropping it so far down. How was this better than being actually courted for those tickets? “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What — you’re going to the game?”

With a growl of frustration, she pushed through. Dummies! Idiots! They had put her in the perfect mood to slam some balls —“Lex Sakai?”

“
What?
” She twisted around, following her bark with a feral glare.

Right at the two Caucasian guys who had been watching her for the past week. The ones who might be Wassamattayu scouts.
Just shoot me now.
“Ah . . . Sorry, guys. I thought you were someone else.”

She simpered.

Their expressionless faces reminded her of FBI agents on TV. Or Aiden when he got frustrated on the court. The shorter one handed her an envelope.

Her gym bag plopped to the ground. She ripped it open.

You are cordially invited to participate in tryouts for Wassamattayu . . .

“Oh my gosh! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” Grim-faced, the taller one nodded.

“We were very impressed. You play with power and precision.”

The shorter man’s tone reminded Lex of a business report.

Lex beamed. “I could almost kiss you!”

He cleared his throat. “I’d rather you didn’t.”