Page 20 of A Serving of Hope

“Oh,” said Shiori, reaching into her bag for her wallet, “I almost forgot to pay.”

“We don’t have a fixed fee. Just send us whatever feels right,” explained Koishi, passing her a slip of paper with their details.

“All right. I’ll see to it as soon as I get back to Tokyo.”

“There’s no rush,” said Nagare, pausing as they arrived in front of the Kamogawa Diner. “Whenever you have time.”

“I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

With these words, Shiori set off west along the street.

“Ms. Yukimura!” Koishi called. When Shiori turned, she said in a quieter voice: “I hope you find happiness.”

“Thank you. I hope so too.” With a deep bow, Shiori turned and went on walking, her beige scarf trailing behind her in the wind.

—

“No sign of Drowsy today,” said Nagare, glancing around the front of the restaurant. “Must be off on an expedition.”

“I bet he’s over at Hiroshi’s place. He’s been heading there lots recently.”

“Probably being fed lots of tasty fish.”

“You’re always so tough on him, but deep down, you really worry about that cat, don’t you, Dad?”

“Who said I was worried about him? If anything, this place looks neater without him.”

They stepped inside, and Koishi slid the door closed behind them.

“Onigiri for dinner, then?” she asked, glancing playfully at him.

“Bit chilly for that. How about salmon hot pot? The okami at that restaurant told me about one the chefs make for each other at the end of the night.”

“Sounds perfect. We still have plenty of that Hakkaisan sake you brought back for me too.”

“Why don’t you go pick up Drowsy? You could invite Hiroshi around for dinner while you’re at it.”

“You know what? I think I might.”

“Your mother loved her salmon, didn’t she?” said Nagare, turning toward the family altar.

“Shame she can’t join us for some of this fancy stuff.”

“Well,” said Nagare, who had begun sharpening a knife, “she’d want us to enjoy it while we can.”

“Hey, Dad.”

Nagare’s hands stopped. “What?”

“How did Yasuhiko die?”

“Ah.” He went on sharpening. “You picked up on that, then. It was two years back. Scooter accident. He was on his way back from stocking up on ingredients at the market.”

“I had a feeling. Shiori must have known too, right?”

“Of course. There’s no way news like that wouldn’t have reached her.”

“And yet she still waited four years,” said Koishi as she rinsed out a cooking pot.