We left the studio and went back to the living room. The wind had picked up—through the window I could see thick clouds edging their way north. The moon was hidden from view.
“So about what brought me here,” Masahiko said, not wasting any more time. He seemed to be steeling himself for what he was about to say.
“It sounds like something that’s not easy to discuss,” I said.
“You’re right, it’s hard. Quite hard, in fact.”
“But it’s something that I need to know.”
Masahiko rubbed his hands together. Like a man preparing to lift a heavy object.
“It’s about Yuzu,” he said, cutting to the chase. “She and I have met up a number of times. Before you left this spring, and afterward, too. She calls me when she wants to talk, and then we meet somewhere. She asked me not to tell you. I hated hiding it from you, but, well, I promised her.”
I nodded. “It’s important to keep our promises.”
“Yuzu and I were friends too, you know.”
“I know,” I said. Masahiko put great stock in friendship. It could be a weakness of his.
“She had another man. Apart from you, that is.”
“I know that too. Now, at least.”
He nodded. “It started about six months before you walked out. Their relationship, that is. It hurts me to tell you this, but the guy is someone I know. A colleague of mine at work.”
I let out a small sigh. “I imagine he’s really handsome, right?”
“Yeah, you got it. Classic features. An agency scouted him in high school, and he modeled part-time for a while. He’s that good-looking. And, well, it seems that I was the one who introduced them.”
I didn’t say anything.
“At least that’s how it worked out,” Masahiko said.
“Yuzu always had a thing for handsome men. It was almost pathological. She knew it too.”
“You’re not bad-looking yourself,” he said.
“Thanks, man. Now I can sleep better tonight.”
We didn’t speak for a time. Finally, he broke the silence.
“Anyway, he’s a really good-looking guy. A nice guy, too. I know this doesn’t help you very much, but he’s not violent, or a womanizer, or vain about his looks. He’s not that type.”
“That’s nice to hear,” I said. My voice was tinged with sarcasm, though I hadn’t meant it to sound that way.
“It all started in September a year ago,” Masahiko said. “He and I were out together when we bumped into Yuzu, and since it was about noon, the three of us stopped for lunch nearby. Believe me, I had absolutely no idea things would turn out this way. He’s five years younger than she is.”
“So the two of them didn’t waste much time.”
Masahiko gave a small shrug. Things must have progressed very quickly indeed.
“The guy talked to me about what was going on,” he said. “Your wife did as well. It put me in a very difficult position.”
I kept quiet. Anything I said would just make me look foolish.
Masahiko was silent for a moment. Then he spoke. “The fact is, Yuzu is pregnant.”
I was speechless for a moment. “Yuzu? Pregnant?”
“Yeah, seven months gone already.”
“She did it on purpose?”
“I don’t know,” Masahiko said, shaking his head. “But she’s planning to have the baby. After seven months there’s not much choice, is there.”
“She always told me she wasn’t ready for kids.”
He winced slightly. “There’s no chance the child could be yours, is there?” he said, looking into his glass.
I did a quick mental calculation. “No. I don’t know the legal side of it, but biologically the chances are zero. I left eight months ago, and we haven’t seen each other since.”
“That’s good,” Masahiko said. “At any rate, she asked me to tell you she’s going to have a baby. And that it shouldn’t cause you any problems.”
“But then why tell me at all?”
He shook his head. “I guess she’s informing you out of courtesy.”
I said nothing. Out of courtesy?
“I’ve been waiting for the chance to apologize for all this. I knew what was going on between Yuzu and my colleague, and I kept it from you. It was inexcusable. Under any circumstances.”
“Then was letting me stay in this house your way of making amends?”
“Not at all—there’s no connection between that and Yuzu. My father lived and painted in this house for a great many years. I figured you could keep that tradition alive. It’s not something I could have asked anybody else, not like that at all.”
Again, I said nothing. He sounded sincere.
“In any case,” Masahiko continued, “you signed and sealed the divorce papers you received and sent them back to Yuzu, right?”
“More precisely, to her lawyer. So our divorce should be official by now. I guess those two will choose a date for their own wedding now that’s taken care of.”
And go on to have a happy marriage. A tall, handsome man, a small child, and little Yuzu. The three of them strolling happily through the park on a sunny Sunday morning. Heartwarming.
Masahiko added some ice and poured us more whiskey. He took a swig from his glass.
I went out to the terrace and looked across the valley at Menshiki’s white house. Lights were on in some of the windows. What was Menshiki doing at this minute? What was he thinking about?
The night air was chilly. The leafless branches quivered in the wind. I went back to the living room and sat down.
“Can you forgive me?”
“It’s not like you meant to hurt me,” I said, shaking my head.
“I for one am sorry it turned out this way. You and Yuzu looked so well matched, and you seemed happy together. It’s sad that it fell apart.”
“You drop them both—the one that breaks is the egg,” I said.
Masahiko laughed weakly. “So how are things now? Is there a woman in your life?”
“Yeah, there’s someone.”
“But not the same as Yuzu?”
“It’s different. I’ve been looking for the same thing in women my whole life. Whatever that is, Yuzu had it.”
“And you can’t find that in anyone else?”
“Not so far,” I said, shaking my head again.
“You have my sympathy,” Masahiko said. “So what is it exactly that you’ve been looking for?”
“It’s hard to put into words. I feel as if I lost track of something along the way, and have been searching for it ever since. Don’t you think that’s how everyone falls in love?”
“I don’t think you can say ‘everyone,’?” he said with a slight frown. “You may actually be in the minority. But if you can’t find the right words, why not paint it? You are an artist, after all.”
“If you can’t say it, paint it. That’s easy to say. Not so easy to do, though.”
“But it may be important to try, don’t you think?”
“And perhaps Captain Ahab should have set out after sardines.”
Masahiko laughed. “Sure, from a safety standpoint. But that’s not how art is born.”
“Hey, give me a break. Mention art, and the conversation comes to a screeching halt.”
“Looks like we need some more whiskey,” he said, shaking his head. He poured us another drink.
“I can’t drink too much. I’ve got to work tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow is tomorrow. Today is all we have right now,” Masahiko said.
I found this idea strangely compelling.
* * *
—
“Can I ask you a favor?” I said to Masahiko. Our conversation was wrapping up, and we were about to get ready for bed. The hands on the clock pointed to a little before eleven.
“Sure, anything at all.”
“I’d like to meet your father. Could you take me with you the next time you go to Izu?”
Masahiko regarded me as he might a strange animal. “You want to meet my father?”
“If it’s not too much trouble.”
“It’s no trouble at all. But my father’s in no shape to talk to you. He’s quite incoherent. His mind is chaotic—a mud swamp, really. So if you have any expectations—if you’re hoping to gain some insight into the person known as Tomohiko Amada—you’ll only be disappointed.”
“No, I’m not expecting anything like that. I just want to take one good look at him, that’s all.”