Read Online Like Sweet Potato Pie by Jennifer Rogers Spinola - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jennifer Rogers Spinola
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fridge.”
“Nope.”
Because Tim and Becky drank it all when they came over to watch NASCAR.
Kyoko relaxed. “Hot then. Maybe it’ll help me sleep.”
And so we sat over steaming teacups, catching up on the news. Or trying to. I couldn’t describe Becky and Tim or Faye without sounding ridiculous. My prayer either … or Mom’s journals and the decision I made that would change me forever.
Oh boy. Those would take another hour. Maybe another day.
When we were both awake and Kyoko’s shouts didn’t wake the neighbors.
But I listened, cradling the teacup Japanese-style: one hand on the base and the other on the rim. Covering my teeth chastely with my hand when I smiled or laughed. I still did that out of habit. And bobbed my head in thanks and bowed to store clerks, too, but not quite as much anymore.
At least I’d stopped trying to pay for things with my cell phone or drive on the left.
I played with a stray rose petal while Kyoko blabbed about her new stories, how our nemesis Nora Choi blundered an article, calling the prime minister’s wife “First Lady,” and the fashion crimes of Yoshie-san, the office helper.
“What else?” I begged. “Tell me more! Tell me everything!”
“The same.” Kyoko shrugged. “Not much changes.”
“What can you possibly mean?” I set my teacup down hard enough to wake Christie. “Every single day something changes in Japan! The maple leaves turn red. They write new advertising jingles or create another TV drama. A new coffee flavor at Starbucks or a sandwich at McDonald’s—like the Bacon Lettuce Burger.” I swallowed hard. “And I’m missing it!”
“They don’t have the Bacon Lettuce Burger here?”
I gasped. “Of course not! It’s a Japan original! Like the breakfast hot dog. I loved those.”
Kyoko grimaced. “You’re the only one I know who’s ordered the breakfast hot dog.”
“Yoshie-san did. I saw him eating two of them one morning.”
“Oh, and he makes it all right? I’ve seen that guy buy live beetles from a vending machine. He said they were pets for his son, but I think otherwise.”
“Does Dave miss me?” I asked after a long pause. After bawling—and cursing—me out in my hotel room once he discovered I’d copied, Dave hadn’t spoken another word to me. Most of us AP employees crept around the office in fear even though duly employed, so imagine
fired!
By Dave! I shuddered.
“Dave wouldn’t miss his own mother. But in his own strange way, yes, I think he does.”
“Really?”
“Well, he blew his stack at first. Everybody stayed out of his way while he stomped around on the warpath, but he eventually got over it.” Kyoko leaned forward and softened her voice, fingering her skull ring. “But you know what, Ro? He never gave Nora politics. He put her on the military beat and divided politics between Kaine and me. He knows she’s not cut out for it like you were. Well, are. Still.”
“Thanks,” I said softly, not quite believing Kyoko just complimented me. Kyoko rarely handed out praise; I hoarded it like the last drop of soy sauce in a care package.
“So, what did you do with your dumb rock?” she asked abruptly, apparently realizing she bordered on affection. She nodded curtly in the direction of my left hand.
“Oh, that.” I twisted my fingers over the empty space on my ring finger. “I sent it back to Carlos by mail. In a padded envelope. With the price on the outside and no insurance.”
Kyoko blanched. “You did
what?
”
“Can you believe he actually got it? He had to pay one hefty tax though. I can’t imagine.” I smiled in spite of myself. I probably should have retaliated … uh … behaved with more dignity, but what’s done is done.
“Girl.” Kyoko stared at me. “And I thought rearranging his Azuki page to make him a Brazil fanatic was clever.”
Everybody in Tokyo ditched Facebook in favor of Azuki, its Japanese twin.
I managed a grin. “I wish I could’ve seen his face.
“Nope.”
Because Tim and Becky drank it all when they came over to watch NASCAR.
Kyoko relaxed. “Hot then. Maybe it’ll help me sleep.”
And so we sat over steaming teacups, catching up on the news. Or trying to. I couldn’t describe Becky and Tim or Faye without sounding ridiculous. My prayer either … or Mom’s journals and the decision I made that would change me forever.
Oh boy. Those would take another hour. Maybe another day.
When we were both awake and Kyoko’s shouts didn’t wake the neighbors.
But I listened, cradling the teacup Japanese-style: one hand on the base and the other on the rim. Covering my teeth chastely with my hand when I smiled or laughed. I still did that out of habit. And bobbed my head in thanks and bowed to store clerks, too, but not quite as much anymore.
At least I’d stopped trying to pay for things with my cell phone or drive on the left.
I played with a stray rose petal while Kyoko blabbed about her new stories, how our nemesis Nora Choi blundered an article, calling the prime minister’s wife “First Lady,” and the fashion crimes of Yoshie-san, the office helper.
“What else?” I begged. “Tell me more! Tell me everything!”
“The same.” Kyoko shrugged. “Not much changes.”
“What can you possibly mean?” I set my teacup down hard enough to wake Christie. “Every single day something changes in Japan! The maple leaves turn red. They write new advertising jingles or create another TV drama. A new coffee flavor at Starbucks or a sandwich at McDonald’s—like the Bacon Lettuce Burger.” I swallowed hard. “And I’m missing it!”
“They don’t have the Bacon Lettuce Burger here?”
I gasped. “Of course not! It’s a Japan original! Like the breakfast hot dog. I loved those.”
Kyoko grimaced. “You’re the only one I know who’s ordered the breakfast hot dog.”
“Yoshie-san did. I saw him eating two of them one morning.”
“Oh, and he makes it all right? I’ve seen that guy buy live beetles from a vending machine. He said they were pets for his son, but I think otherwise.”
“Does Dave miss me?” I asked after a long pause. After bawling—and cursing—me out in my hotel room once he discovered I’d copied, Dave hadn’t spoken another word to me. Most of us AP employees crept around the office in fear even though duly employed, so imagine
fired!
By Dave! I shuddered.
“Dave wouldn’t miss his own mother. But in his own strange way, yes, I think he does.”
“Really?”
“Well, he blew his stack at first. Everybody stayed out of his way while he stomped around on the warpath, but he eventually got over it.” Kyoko leaned forward and softened her voice, fingering her skull ring. “But you know what, Ro? He never gave Nora politics. He put her on the military beat and divided politics between Kaine and me. He knows she’s not cut out for it like you were. Well, are. Still.”
“Thanks,” I said softly, not quite believing Kyoko just complimented me. Kyoko rarely handed out praise; I hoarded it like the last drop of soy sauce in a care package.
“So, what did you do with your dumb rock?” she asked abruptly, apparently realizing she bordered on affection. She nodded curtly in the direction of my left hand.
“Oh, that.” I twisted my fingers over the empty space on my ring finger. “I sent it back to Carlos by mail. In a padded envelope. With the price on the outside and no insurance.”
Kyoko blanched. “You did
what?
”
“Can you believe he actually got it? He had to pay one hefty tax though. I can’t imagine.” I smiled in spite of myself. I probably should have retaliated … uh … behaved with more dignity, but what’s done is done.
“Girl.” Kyoko stared at me. “And I thought rearranging his Azuki page to make him a Brazil fanatic was clever.”
Everybody in Tokyo ditched Facebook in favor of Azuki, its Japanese twin.
I managed a grin. “I wish I could’ve seen his face.
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