“Look at the time,” Akiko says. “You must be starving after work. Shall we start eating?”
Dad nods eagerly. Everyone else except maybe Aunt Jeremiah, who forgets to eat when she’s working, undoubtedly had something before coming. I just hope Klein had a big lunch when she went out with Bryce’s assistant Amélie today.
Akiko brings out her best pinot grigio and Sangiovese, cold and warm sake and Japanese plum wine. Her stemware and glasses are top of the line—and all the liquors from Japan are served in wide, shallow, gorgeous white porcelain cups.
The first course starts with everyone getting an empty white bowl. My brothers and I exchange looks.Do we have toimagineour food now? You never know with Akiko.
A ladle of clear soup made with chicken stock is poured. As the steam rises, a tree, its gnarled branches laden with countless delicate pink flowers, slowly appears on the bottom of the bowl.
Klein’s eyes widen. “Wow. Is that a cherry blossom tree?” She’s absolutely adorable as she stares at the elegantly done art.
“Yes! Isn’t it pretty?” Akiko beams. “I just had to get these bowls when I saw them in Tokyo last month. This is my first time using them. Thought it was appropriate to welcome you into the family.”
“I…don’t even know what to say.”
“Oh, just tell me you love my food,” Akiko teases.
“I thought you wanted honesty?” I say. Dad gives me a warning look, but Akiko takes it in good humor.
Klein laughs. “I’m sure I’ll love everything.”
Ares dips his spoon into Lareina’s bowl and tastes the soup. “Mmm. Light…delicate…”
“A light soup,” Bryce says. “Nowthere’sa surprise.” He gets the same scowl from Dad.
The next course is two bite-sized slices of duck breast topped with some kind of green glob. Each plate has dark sauce, but instead of drizzling it over the pristine bone china, Akiko wrote a highly stylized kanji character, each unique to the diner. Ares, Bryce and I lean over to read everyone’s characters, since we can read Japanese fairly well.
I freeze at the writing on Klein’s plate:Ai—love. Memory tugs me back to the time when Klein first brought flowers to my office. With the morning sunlight streaming in, illuminating her shy smile, she looked like love personified. I started to call her name but stopped at the first syllable because something inside wanted to followAiwithchan, a Japanese suffix to indicate affection and familiarity that I often used with my cousins in Tokyo and Kyoto.
So I started calling her Klein in order to avoid slipping and calling her Ai-chan—sweet love. Even though she wouldn’t know what it meant, my brothers would. And most importantly,Iwould.
When I’m worthy of Klein’s warmth, I might be able to bring myself to call her Ai-chan.
“What do you think? I think they fit every one of you perfectly.” Akiko looks at us.
“What do they all mean?” Grandma asks.
“Mine says autumn because that’s when I was born,” Akiko says. “Wisdom for you, Catalina, and trust for Prescott. Victory for Jeremiah.”
Grandma nods, and Dad places a soft kiss on Akiko’s temple. She smiles, glowing like the moon. Aunt Jeremiah preens—nothing makes her happier than winning.
Akiko continues, “Strength for Ares and courage for Lareina.”
“Wow. That’s so cool.” Lareina leans her head on Ares’s shoulder with a soft sigh. He kisses the top of her crown.
“Dependable for Bryce.”
At that, my twin smiles, and I marvel at how accurately Akiko pinpointed us.
“Love for Ailee because she’s such a lovely child.”
Klein traces the complex strokes on her plate with her eyes, full of surprise and wonder, probably shocked people would equate love with her. I squeeze her hand. “If you want, I’ll show you how to write it when we get home,” I whisper.
“And honor for you,” Akiko says to me. “Can also mean loyalty.”
I freeze and do my best to stay still, lest I squirm. I’ve never felt like I could be worthy of honor and loyalty, not with Mom insisting since I was a child that I’m just like her—a Dunkel.
“Honor. Loyalty. That’s so you.” Klein looks up at me. “I love it.”
