Parlor Games A Novel

MY OWN DEAR JOHNNY



TOKYO—1891



Johnny had gone out to his bank that day to conduct some business, so I left a message at the desk asking him to join me for a late-afternoon stroll. When he returned, we took a rickshaw to Ueno Park and set out under its canopy of broad-branching cherry trees.

I took Johnny’s arm as we stepped onto a wide walkway at the park’s center. “How was your day?”

“Not very agreeable, really.”

The finely graveled path crunched beneath our feet. “I’m sorry. What made it disagreeable?”

“Nothing I need to bother you about.”

I suspected Johnny had received yet another missive from his father, perhaps via his bank, asking him to quit Tokyo. Or perhaps Dougherty had upset him. I nestled my hand into the crook of his arm. “You never told me about your dinner with that associate of your father’s.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Dougherty. Quite a nice fellow.”

The late-afternoon sun broke through the tunnel of trees here and there, warming my back, and I steered us toward a stone bench in some deep shade. “Did your father send him here on business?”

“No, Father only asked him to stop and see how I was doing. And pass along the news from home.”

Apparently, Johnny’s father preferred to handle this matter discreetly. Or maybe Dougherty realized he needed to tread delicately, in view of Johnny’s attachment to me.

“Nothing’s wrong, I hope.”

“Not at all; we’re meeting again tomorrow.”

Just as I feared. Dougherty was sinking his claws into Johnny, and I couldn’t risk any more meetings between them. I could only hope the police would hold Dougherty long enough to keep him away from Johnny. I paused at the stone bench, inviting Johnny to sit beside me. “And is Mr. Dougherty staying in Tokyo long?”

“I’m not sure.” Johnny leaned back and braced his hand on the bench. “He seemed to know about you.”

The coolness of the stone seat seeped into my legs. I forced calm onto my expression, suppressing the fury seething in my veins. “Really? What?”

“Just that I was seeing someone. Father must have passed it along. Anyway, I told him we’re having a marvelous time.”

“Oh, Johnny, I don’t want it ever to end.” I rested my head on his shoulder. Should I just tell him everything? No, I couldn’t stomach the thought of dashing Johnny’s trust in me.

I felt Johnny tense up. Pulling my head off his shoulder, I looked him full in the face. “What’s wrong?”

He smoothed a hand over his forehead. “Father’s put a limit on my withdrawals.”

“Why would he do that?”

“To force me to come home.”

“Oh, Johnny, I don’t want to lose you.”

“Soon I’ll have to go home.”

“Let’s go away first. Just you and me. Take me to Mount Fuji for my birthday.”

Johnny leaned over his knees and studied his feet. “I’m running low on funds.”

“Don’t worry about money. I have money.”

He nodded, letting the idea sink in. “Yes, I could stand a break from Father’s constant letters.”

“Can we leave tomorrow?”

“Well, I’m dining with Mr. Dougherty tomorrow night. How about Friday?”

If the police released Dougherty before Thursday evening, I would have to keep them apart, but without making a fuss. First I needed to find out how long Dougherty would be jailed. I clapped a hand on Johnny’s thigh. “You promise? Friday morning?”

He nodded, concentrating his lips in his own endearing way of showing resolve.

I wrapped my arm in his and nestled close to him.

He kissed my forehead and asked, “Can you have Kotone make the arrangements?”

“Of course,” I said.

As we rose to leave the park, I nudged Johnny. “Look at the young couple over there. Don’t they look happy?”



By the time Johnny called on me the next afternoon, Kotone had ascertained that the police were still holding Dougherty. Although they had questioned him about the whereabouts of the stolen photos, Dougherty had revealed nothing. Since time was of the essence, I asked Johnny if he’d begun packing for our trip to Fujiyama.

He relaxed into the pillows on my suite’s low-slung sofa. “I had some other business to attend to. I can pack in the morning.”

“Why not tonight?” The golden crane-patterned wallpaper of my suite reflected the afternoon sun piercing the windows. Suddenly it struck me as monotonous. How many months had I sat in this room surrounded by the same walls, the same simple furniture?

“I’m dining with Mr. Dougherty this evening.”

I hurried to the sofa and sat beside Johnny. “He hasn’t sent you word?”

“Of what?”

“That he’s indisposed.”

“No, why should he?”

I crossed my legs at the ankles and swiveled toward Johnny. “Mr. Dougherty is not who you think he is.”

Johnny leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knee tops. “What do you mean?”

“It would be best if you didn’t see him again.”

“But that would be an insult. What’s this about?”

“I’d rather not embarrass your father. Please don’t ask any more questions.”

“But my father sent him here. If he’s sponsored Dougherty’s trip, he has a right to know.”

I swallowed and moistened my lips. “Dougherty is being questioned by the police for theft.”

“Theft?”

“And I guarantee he’ll lie to your father about it.”

“You’re sure?”

“I saw Security escort him out of our hotel. You can ask the authorities.”

“How do you know he’s in jail?”

“I have connections with city officials. Why wouldn’t I know what happens to Americans in Tokyo?”

“Are you sure it’s Dougherty?”

“Mr. Reed Dougherty, a lanky fellow with a horsy face. Staying at the Seiyoken Hotel. Isn’t that him?”

Johnny frowned. “Yes, yes, it is.”

“Well, I’m afraid you won’t find him at dinner tonight.”



Johnny and I left Tokyo the next morning, while Dougherty languished in jail. But I knew Dougherty would be released sooner or later, so to throw him off our trail I changed plans.

Once Johnny and I reached the outskirts of Tokyo, I told him, “We’re going to Kyoto instead of Mount Fuji. I wanted to surprise you.”

We checked into the Hotel Okura in Kyoto a few days before the Kamo festival. On festival day, we secured seats with a commanding view of the parade: ox carriages overflowing with geranium leaves and an envoy of people dressed in colorful, flowing silk garb.

“Incredible,” Johnny said, as awed by the display as I was. “And it’s such a sublime city. Let’s stay for your birthday.”

We spent the next week touring Kyoto’s beautiful temples: Kiyomizu temple, situated on a steep hill and offering a commanding view of Kyoto; the shimmering Temple of the Golden Pavilion, a three-story temple topped with a bronze phoenix that sparkled under the clear May skies; and Fushimi Inari Taisha, a shrine at the top of a pathway lined with thousands of thick, bright red posts.

I turned twenty-two on May 23, and that evening Johnny escorted me to a small restaurant in the heart of Kyoto. He had obviously taken great care in selecting and arranging the dinner. Once we finished dining, the whole staff—two male cooks and three waitresses—presented themselves in the doorway of our private chamber to wish me a happy birthday.

Johnny folded his hands and dipped his head, Japanese-style, to show his gratitude. “Arigato. We’re ready for our dessert now.”

When the staff retreated, I reached for Johnny’s hand. “Life with you is the sweetest adventure.”

Johnny raised my chin with his fingertips, leaned close, and kissed me. “I forget the rest of the world when I’m with you.”

“You are my joy, my peace.”

“My dear, dear Pauline. I could never have dreamed you up.”

The curtain to our room parted and our waitress shuffled out of her shoes. She entered and placed a bowl of colorful round delicacies in front of each of us.

“Oh, cream anmitsu,” I said, “my favorite Japanese dessert.”

The waitress’s mouth betrayed the slightest smile as she plucked a little pitcher of dark liquid from her tray and placed it in the middle of our table. She looked at Johnny. He nodded, and she took a tiny box off the tray and put it beside my bowl. Bowing, she retreated, and the curtains to our room rippled closed behind her.

I stared at the box, so small it made me wonder: Could it be a ring? My heart pounded. My cheeks and ears flushed with excitement.

Johnny took up the pitcher and poured sweet black syrup over our dessert bowls. “Would you like to open your gift?”

Taking in a deep breath to calm myself, I lifted the box, gripped the bottom with my quivering fingertips, and pulled the top off. A ring. A diamond ring. I looked up at Johnny.

“Will you marry me, Pauline?”

I clapped a hand over my heart. “Oh, Johnny, I can hardly believe it.”

“You’ll be my fiancée. We can travel to New York together.”

I wanted nothing more than to say yes, to guarantee a life of happiness with Johnny. But I had thought of just one way to foil the obstacles Dougherty had thrown in our path.

“I can’t tell you how happy you’ve made me.” I reached for his hand. “Only can’t we stay in Japan? Can’t we get married here?”

“Darling, my family will love you. I wouldn’t dream of depriving them of a wedding in New York.”

“Can’t we just live here? I’m so happy here with you.”

“And I with you. We can be happy anywhere, dear girl, as long as we’re together.”

“I have plenty of money to get us started. Together we could buy antiquities and export them to the States.”

Confusion crept over Johnny’s features. “But I can’t let my family down. Everything’s been planned, from my schooling at Harvard to an office designed just for me. With a desk my grandfather brought over from Scotland.”

I gulped. I could never explain why I wanted to stay in Japan.

Johnny patted my hand. “Don’t worry, darling. It’ll be perfect—you and me in a home of our own in New York.”

I wanted to tell him everything, right then and there: I’m not Pauline. I’m not the daughter of a well-to-do restaurant owner. I’ve made mistakes. Dougherty is trying to separate us. He thinks I’m after your money. It’s not true. You’re my own dear Johnny. I love you. As I’ve never loved anyone before.

Johnny cupped his hand over mine. “Please say yes, my darling.”

I couldn’t bear to crush Johnny’s spirit. My trusting Johnny believed everything I had ever told him. Never had he doubted me. To him I was a sweet girl with an innocent past. His Pauline.

I gazed into his beckoning eyes. “Yes.”

He reached out for my hand and slipped the ring on my finger.

My throat nearly burst from the lump of sadness massing in it. I looked at him, my eyes misting over. “I love you, Johnny. I love everything about you.”

“My dear, wonderful Pauline.”

Pauline—how the name grated at my ears, signifying, as it did, nothing but pretense.

I clasped his hands. I wanted to never let go.

Johnny squeezed my hands. “Everything will be perfect. Leave it all to me.”



Johnny’s happiness that evening only intensified my agony: I desperately feared losing him. Once Dougherty reported back to Johnny’s father, his family might well refuse to meet me—or spurn Johnny if we married. I had to somehow spare Johnny the heartache of family abandonment. I had to outwit Dougherty.

Just as Johnny and I prepared to depart Kyoto and hasten back to the States, I received a message from Reed Dougherty: “I think we should take up that business we failed to resolve in Tokyo.”

Dougherty had managed to track us down despite my efforts to evade him. I had little choice but to meet the roving detective, so I sent word that I would call on him late that afternoon at his out-of-the-way hotel. (He obviously hadn’t had sufficient influence to secure any of the finer hotels in town.)

He welcomed me to a shadowy private room in his hotel’s dining area and poured cups of sake for us.

I knew my options were diminishing, but my love for Johnny drove me to try my hand. “Mr. Dougherty, you seem terribly determined to make an issue of something that is none of your business.”

He sat on a pillow with his gangly legs crossed at the ankles. “It became my business once John started draining his bank account for you.”

Out of habit, I picked up my sake cup. But the thought of taking sake with Dougherty repelled me, and I quickly replaced it. “Johnny is free to spend his money as he wishes.”

“It’s not exactly his money. It’s family money, and his father asks that the spending stop.”

“You can’t separate us. What do I care about a couple of photos?”

“Obviously enough to ransack my room.”

“You made such a fuss about them. My curiosity was aroused.”

With all the leisure of a lord out for a Sunday stroll, Dougherty sipped his sake and placed his cup back on the table. “I’m sure Johnny and his family would also find them fascinating.”

If only I could get the photographs. Perhaps it would rob him of the proof he needed to turn Johnny’s family against me. “If you’ll turn over the photographs, I’ll leave Johnny.”

“And if you’d found them in my hotel room, I suppose we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“I told you, I’ll quit seeing Johnny if you hand them over.”

“That wouldn’t help you.”

“Why not?”

“One set is in government custody.”

“And what do you propose to do with them?”

“Nothing if you leave Johnny.”

“That would make Johnny very unhappy.”

“According to you.”

“I know how Johnny feels.”

He eyed my engagement ring. “I see you’ve extracted a promise of marriage from him.”

“Extracted? How dare you insult Mr. Graham with such a cheap insinuation.”

“I can tell you with the utmost confidence that his family will not countenance the likes of you.”

“You can’t keep us apart.”

Dougherty tapped his fingers on the table. “If he stays with you, his family will cut him off. But, more to the point, you’re wanted for larceny. And if you dare to set foot on U.S. soil with John Graham, I’ll have you arrested.”