Junka kept making new suggestions, one after the other, causing Emiko’s head to spin. They were all things she’d never thought about before. She wrote them down in a notebook so she wouldn’t forget.
It was then that a younger lady walked into the store holding a paper bag. She turned out to be another shelf owner. Apparently, she lived in the neighborhood and was in her first year of working as an adult. The books that she lined up on her shelf were fabric-bound paperbacks. When Emiko asked where she’d bought them, the woman said that they were commercially available paperbacks that she’d rebound herself with fabric. Emiko was amazed.
To think that not only could people make their own books from nothing, but they could remake books that had already been sold! When the lady told Emiko about her experience making lots of other things, like hardcovers and Japanese binding methods, she got even more interested.
“Once we’ve done the public reading and made the recipe booklets, why don’t we try Japanese bookbinding next? A lot of the shelf owners look like they’d be interested in it, so it would be fun to do a workshop!” Junka said.
She was making even more suggestions, but Emiko hadn’t even finished her own shelf yet. All she could do was write down everything that was being said, but her hopes for all the fun things that they would do in the future and her worries about what would happen if she didn’t live up to their expectations all mixed together, making her feel like a student with a ton of homework to do before school began.
After leaving Sumika Bookstore, Emiko headed to the supermarket to do her shopping for supper. As she picked up some bok choy, she worried about what sort of book she would make. And as she was picking out leeks, she remembered how smooth handmade Japanese paper was and had the inspiration to use some paper made in Okayama as traditional handicrafts.
It was funny, thinking about how that morning, she’d just been worrying about what books to put on her shelf, yet by evening, here she was considering what type of paper she’d use for her first book. Just how long had it been since she’d last had this much fun?
When Emiko was a child, she loved going to new places and doing new things, just like Mizuki. Mayumi always said that her mother never changed. If that was true, then just when and where had she forgotten her real self?
Once she’d passed her life’s point of no return, she had just wanted to live a peaceful life, where she could feel the little bits of happiness that came from helping out her daughter and grandchild, and watching over them. She’d been convinced that once you reached a certain age, you had to give up the part of the main character and take up a supporting role.
But once the childhood where she simply did as she was told ended and she stepped into adulthood thinking she was finally free, she started raising a child. And when things finally calmed down after that, she was raising her granddaughter as well. There was joy in that too, of course, but it also made her wonder just where her own life was.
It was now that she was free that she needed to go searching for it. The book that had made the trip all the way from Tokyo was her heart’s support. It would give her the strength to start new things.
Just as soon as she finished her shopping and arrived home, Mizuki came running down the stairs, coat on and with her wallet in hand.
“Grandma, let’s go shopping! Take me with you!”
“Huh, right now?”
Emiko assumed her granddaughter wanted new clothes to go out in, but her destination was the supermarket.
“But I’ve just come home from the supermarket. What was it that you wanted?”
“There’s something I want to cook.”
She told Emiko it was a recipe in the cookbook she’d bought in Tokyo. She’d been reading through it, thinking everything looked like a pain in the butt to make, but she’d found something she thought even she could make. Seeing as Mizuki was so eager, Emiko had no choice but to whip her own body into action.
“Want to take the car?” Emiko suggested.
“No, let’s walk. I wanna talk to you,” Mizuki said.
Having her say she wanted to talk put Emiko on guard about what the topic would be.
After putting her groceries in the fridge, they left the house, walking together along the same road that she’d just come home on.
The sky had still been bright when she’d headed home from Sumika Bookstore, but now it was starting to get dark. There were more cars out on the road now too. Seeing as it would be dangerous walking on the roads of the residential area now, they walked along the highway.
“Isn’t this your first time making supper yourself?” Emiko asked.
“Ah, you might be right. I mean, even if I don’t cook, you’re always at home, and you cook for me whenever I’m hungry. There was no need for me to go out of my way to make something that’ll turn out yucky.”
If Mizuki had decided that her cooking would taste bad before she even started, then that would indeed make her want to do it less. Just what had gotten into her today?
“Do you want to learn how to cook for when you’re living alone?”
“What? No.”
Her granddaughter immediately denied this. According to her, she wasn’t very worried about that, having learned that even someone like Sayaka, who was bad at cooking and everything else, could manage existing somehow.