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The shock came in the midst of the evening heat. As Susato ran about in the small courtyard garden of her home chasing the crickets that chirped madly, Grandmother called to her through the humidity-thick air.
“Susato, come here.”
Susato turned to see her standing on the engawa, an expression on her face that Susato didn't know the meaning of, and a small paper held in her right hand. She made her way to where Grandmother was sitting down and joined her, attempting to steal a glance at the paper, but before she could, Grandmother tucked it away under the folds of her kimono.
Grandmother took Susato’s small hand in her worn one, lightly brushing a thumb across her hand.
“Susato, your father is coming home.”
Susato urgently met Grandmother’s eyes, looking for some sign that she wasn't telling the truth. She had never known Grandmother to lie, but maybe it could be some kind of joke. Why else would she say it with so little excitement in her voice?
“For how long?” she asked, a long-held dream rising up in her.
“For the foreseeable future. He’s… finished his study tour and is returning to Japan.” Her voice was serious, but Susato could have jumped for excitement. Her father was coming home!
“When will he be here?” she asked, taking Grandmother’s hand in both of hers.
Grandmother briefly took the paper from where she had folded it, saying “He sent this telegram just two days ago. The journey home will be long, perhaps two months.”
Two months. She would meet the father whose face she’d never known in two months. With the end in sight, those 60 days seemed to stretch on for eternity.
“But—” she bit back a complaint. She knew Grandmother didn't control the speed of the ship her father was on. “I mean, what do we do until then?” It was such an earthshaking announcement, she couldn’t keep living her life for the next 60 long days as if her father wasn't coming home.
Grandmother finally smiled, reaching out to run her hand over Susato’s hair. “You’ll just have to work very hard at school so you can show your father when he comes.”
Susato nodded excitedly; she loved school, and she was good at it too. The only thing she didn't like about school was that oftentimes they studied things she already knew by heart, and that could be boring.
“And,” Grandmother added, with a quirk of the eyebrow, “you ought to work on your needlepoint as well.”
“Yes, Grandmother.” Susato was not as excited by that, but she accepted the assignment solemnly.
That night, Susato sat at the desk, in the light of the setting sun. She was reading again through the six letters from her father that she’d already read over and over, hoping that the scrawled script would reveal something she hadn't yet seen.
She gathered up the things she knew from his letters: He was funny—he would tell stories about the habits and customs of Englishmen in a way that made her laugh out loud just reading it; he was private—even writing to his own family, he revealed very little about what he was doing; He was smart—the few details he did share about his activities revealed he was given coveted opportunities in Britain; he cared about her education—he was always emphasizing just how important it was, writing parts of his letters in English, just to get her to practice the language. She was better at reading in either language than most of the kids her same age because of him.
Smart, funny, private, cared about her. She clutched them tight to her chest like precious jewels. Susato knew he had to be good and kind and respectable, too. Because… well because Grandmother had raised him too, and she was all of those things.
Susato laid down to sleep that night with dreams of a father who came home and made everything perfect. He’d understand when Grandmother didn't, and he’d always know how to cheer her up, and he would be the cure for the heaviness in her stomach when she visited friends and saw their families.
-
It was a week before her father was to come home, and Susato was scrubbing at the wooden posts in the entryway of her home. Grandmother had laid out a long list of tasks to complete before he returned. Grandmother was always exacting in her cleanliness and ever the hostess, but this was way more thorough than anything Susato ever had to do before. Grandmother wanted everything to be perfect and Susato did too, so even though she thought it was a bit overly detailed, she scrubbed away at the post.
As the weeks went by, Susato’s pure excitement had been worn into nervousness at the edges. Not that she wasn't excited anymore, but the treasure of details about her father’s character that she had learned from his letters suddenly seemed not to measure up to much in the face of his impending arrival.
What if he was completely different from the man she thought he was? What if he was cruel and not kind? Could that be why Grandmother hadn’t seemed excited about his return? There was nothing to do for it but to wait.
Carrying her small bowl of water and rag to the next post over, she once again tried to steel herself. Just one more week, she repeated to the nerves, excitement, and impatience that swam in her gut.
-
That Saturday, Susato stood in the midst of the bustle of the railway station, her hand wrapped in her grandmother’s. Summer was beginning to turn to fall, and she shivered a bit in the breeze. She fought the urge to climb onto a nearby crate so that she could see over the crowds to the people streaming off the train her father was coming in on. Any minute now he would be disembarking. She chewed at the inside of her lip and tugged at her belt.
“Susato,” Grandmother squeezed her hand, “stop fidgeting with your kimono. It isn’t polite. You want to show your father how much of a young lady you are.”
Susato stiffened, trying to do as she was told and contain her nervous energy. She stood there like that, practically vibrating in place, looking up at Grandmother for her to give a sign of recognition. They waited in the crowd chattering of reunions and farewells for what felt like forever, but after that small eternity, Grandmother raised a hand to wave at someone.
Susato gave a tug on her hand and she looked down with a smile. “He’s coming this way, child.”
A man emerged from the stream of people and walked towards her and Grandmother. He wore a dark navy, western-style suit and hat, and pulled a rolling trunk behind him. Grandmother stepped forward, letting go of Susato’s hand and stretching out her arms.
“Yujin,” she said by way of greeting.
“Mother,” the man responded warmly, hugging her.
After letting go of Grandmother, the man knelt down and took off his hat where he was, some two paces away, and looked right at Susato.
There must be something wrong. This couldn't be her father. She was supposed to feel some kind of… connection. She was supposed to know him.
“Hello, Susato. I’m Yujin. Your father. It’s nice to meet you” he said, his voice warbling as he spoke. His final words came out like a whisper. He smiled even though he seemed about to cry. Why was he sad? Had she done something wrong?
“Father?” she asked this perfect stranger.
A tear slipped out of his eye and made its way down his cheek.
“I’m so sorry,” she cried, “I don't mean to make you sad!”
He gave a small laugh, though other tears joined the first as he did so. “Susato, you’ve nothing to apologize for. I’m just…” he paused to take a breath, “You’re so much bigger than when I last saw you. Obviously. And I wish I had been there to see you growing up, but I’m so glad to see you now.”
She felt Grandmother’s hand at her back, urging her forward, and she took one step toward the man. He reached a hand toward her, slowly, as if he was afraid she might run away or disappear. His hand came to rest on her cheek.
“She looks so much like her,” his voice came out gravelly.
“She does,” Grandmother affirmed.
Susato guessed he must be referring to her mother. It wasn't the first time she'd heard the comment.
He set his hat down and took her hands in his own, looking in her eyes solemnly. “Susato, I humbly apologize for the fact that I have been absent all this time. Do you think you can forgive me?”
She blinked. It hadn't occurred to her that this was something she was allowed to hold against her father, though she felt then as if she might. She left the air empty for a second, readying herself to accept the apology.
“You don't have to right now. Of course you don't. I’m sorry, Susato.”
She looked into his eyes for a long moment. “I accept your apology.”
His eyebrows tilted up, in surprise, maybe.
“I forgive you.” She added, and she thought she might have even meant it.
He swallowed, and smiled a bit. “Thank you.” He let out a breath and said, “Now, I know I might be pushing my luck here, but would you be willing to let your father hug you?”
She nodded and stepped into his arms. He was warm and big; this was much closer to what she had imagined. He held her for a long time, and she dutifully didn't acknowledge the shaking in his shoulders.
He let go of her, picked up and put on his hat, adjusted a ribbon in her hair, and stood up. “Shall we head home, ladies?”
As they began to walk from the station, Grandmother held her hand once again. After a moment’s thought, Susato reached up and took her father’s hand too.