Page 64 of A Serving of Hope

With these words, the young man walked away from the table, and Yuiko noticed that he had the same slight hunch Masaya had as a child. She remembered telling him to stand up straight on his way to nursery school, though her husband had always insisted it must be hereditary. Seeing him from behind like that was what had well and truly convinced her it was Masaya running the café.

Was he doing okay? she wondered. Koishi had said Nagare had “found him,” which she’d taken to mean that Masaya was alive and well at the café. But she still felt a lingering unease.

“Here we are,” said Nagare, arriving with a steaming white dish. “It’s hot, so watch you don’t burn your tongue.”

“Oh…” said Yuiko, twitching her nose over the dish. “It smells just the same.”

“Please—take your time.”

She waited for Nagare to bow and withdraw to the kitchen, then held her phone directly over the gratin and took a photograph.

The white dish, and inside it the white gratin, its surface baked to a golden crust. It really did look identical to the one she’d eaten at Tapestry that day. She remembered the place mat being red too. Whether its tartan pattern was the same, she couldn’t say—but if Nagare had gone all the way to Tapestry to recreate the meal, that seemed likely. Yuiko scooped up a spoonful of macaroni, blew gently on it, then brought it to her mouth.

As she slowly chewed, a reassuring warmth spread through her. Yes, this was it. Her eyes closed in rapture.

It wasn’t the meal at Tapestry she was remembering. It was Masaya, sitting across from her at Candle. It was the heartbreak of losing him, even if she only had herself to blame. It was the sensation of being wrenched in two as she tried to enjoy their final moments together.

Masaya had pouted as he peered down at the dish, disappointed at being served this plain white gratin instead of one of the colorful kids’ lunches. Yuiko hadn’t hurried him. Instead, she’d dug her spoon into her own gratin and ate it as he watched. She made a show of savoring the taste, then scrunched her face into a silly smile. That was when Masaya reluctantly reached for his spoon.

It’s hot, so mind you don’t burn your tongue!

At these words from the waitress Masaya had nodded slightly, then puffed repeatedly on his first spoonful.

Finally, he had slid the spoon into his mouth. He had chewed once, twice, three times, four times. It was only after the fifth chew that Masaya had looked at her—and beamed.

Yuiko opened her eyes, gathered another spoonful, and savored the taste once again.

It really was identical. She was at Candle, and she was at Tapestry. The two were blurring together in her mind. Here, in this restaurant, the two memories had fused into one.

Even as she marveled at the strangeness of it all, Yuiko’s spoon never stopped moving. In no time at all, she had demolished the gratin.

Clink. As if he’d been waiting for the sound of the spoon landing on the empty dish, Nagare stepped through the curtain.

“Well? How was it?”

“That,” replied Yuiko, dabbing at her mouth with a white handkerchief, “was the gratin I ate at Tapestry. The very same one.”

Nagare looked visibly relieved. “Glad to hear it.”

“So…did you just go there and ask for the recipe?” Yuiko knew this sounded a little insulting to Nagare’s skills as a detective, but she had to ask.

“Oh, I’m not quite that brazen. No, I just ate it. Once wasn’t enough, but after trying it a second time, I had a pretty decent idea how it was made.”

“That was all it took? Incredible.”

“Just doing my job,” said Nagare with a hint of pride.

“Do you…think I could make it myself?”

Nagare set a sheet of paper in front of her. “I’ve written it all down for you. There aren’t any fancy ingredients. Just get the measurements and timing right and it should come out exactly the same.”

“Thank you so much,” replied Yuiko, carefully folding the paper into quarters.

“I should probably tell you what happened at the café.”

Yuiko nodded eagerly, then gestured at the chair opposite her own.

“Thanks,” said Nagare, removing his cap and sitting down. Koishi brought over a fresh pot of tea, then stood behind him to listen.