That defenselessness was what drew me in, and what I mean by that is I liked how he didn’t get defensive when I poked fun at him. People these days don’t like being teased. The thought alone puts them on edge. Ren, however, didn’t seem to mind. He let me get close enough to make a fool of him. That was why I fell in love with the man. That, and this rescuer sex appeal he had, which I naturally picked up on. I almost immediately found myself thinking, I wouldn’t mind sleeping with this guy.
Half a year went by before our relationship developed enough for that to happen, though. Ren said he wouldn’t mind taking things to the next level if I wanted to get married, but we only occasionally met up in Tokyo and Osaka for the three years that followed.
When he said I could have a nice time alone at this house, he meant it. Ren loved the beach and had built a semi-fancy hilltop vacation home on the outskirts of a remote fishing village in Okayama Prefecture. I’ve never been to the Mediterranean coast, but this place reminded me of a European farmhouse with an ocean view. He’d apparently hired an architect from Osaka to design it, and the tiles in the front yard came from a local company. The spacious entranceway had cool stone flooring.
The grassy, tree-lined backyard boasted a view of the ocean, which always struck me as crowded from the constant stream of boats going between the islands of the Setouchi archipelago. The vacation house was surrounded by a stone fence and hedges that had become so overgrown through the years that they were now climbing up the house, making it look more like a fairy-tale castle. A gardener from a neighboring village would stop by a few times a year to trim the hedges.
There was also a local fishmonger called Uomasa that would deliver fish straight to your house, even cook something up and bring it over. Even on a harbor, there were a lot of complicated rules and regulations within the fishing industry, like how there were some things you weren’t allowed to catch. Fishermen patronized Uomasa as well.
In the vacation house’s white-tiled front yard was a pink-tinted marble statue of a nymph and a fountain to go along with it. Every window had vermilion shutters, and wherever there wasn’t grass, there was a paving stone instead. Even the white front door’s handle had an elaborate design. There were two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dining room, a kitchen, and a living room. Both bedrooms were on the second floor in order to have that view of the sea.
It got hot during the summertime, but the fragrant ocean air was lovely. A four-to-five-hundred-meter walk up the beach brought you to a resort hotel and a guesthouse. Those in the know recognized this spot as having the best view of the Seto Inland Sea.
Having a vacation home with a seaside view was Ren’s dream. The house was basically the other woman in his life; he didn’t actually have to visit it, since he was happy enough merely knowing it existed. Granted, he’d certainly disagree with that sentiment: No way. Of course I want to go to my vacation house, but I’m so busy.
Nevertheless, we spent three whole days here together last year. After taking a morning shower, we would walk across the dew-covered grass while enjoying our hot coffee and garlic toast. I became very fond of this vacation home.
The path at the bottom of the stone staircase in the backyard led straight through a thicket to the shore. The beach was far from the area the fishing boats used, so the water wasn’t polluted with oil. Unfortunately, however, it wasn’t as blue or as clear as the beaches in the South Pacific Ocean. Here, the water was reddish-brown, and yet people still swam in it, us included.
Ren and I had sashimi from Uomasa for lunch one day, and I used the leftover fish parts to make miso soup. That evening, we watered the lawn and took a bath together, but every minute in between, he was on the phone with someone from his office.
We went to a hotel for dinner that night, and I asked him over a Campari and soda, “Why did you and your wife split up?”
This was one way I liked to tease him.
“It was a deep-seated grudge,” he’d answered with a grin.
“A grudge?”
“My wife didn’t work like you do, Mimi. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with staying home just takin’ it easy and enjoying yourself. But it was almost like that wasn’t good enough for her. She’d complain day in and day out until eventually, she got resentful. It’s hard being with someone who holds grudges. It slowly became unbearable.”
The phrase deep-seated grudge blew me away. It made me like him even more. I want us to spend our lives together. Doesn’t matter if we get married or not, I thought, and Ren agreed.
“Yeah, exactly. Getting married means becoming a family…but becoming a family isn’t so much sexy as it is lewd,” he said.
“I’m fine with sexy.”
“Right? Bring it on, I say. Glad we’re on the same page.”
And being on that same page made him even hotter. A hot rescuer. I loved the weight of Ren’s body, its heft syrupy, like honey covering every inch of my body. I loved throwing open the bedroom window and listening to the night breeze whistling through the shutters as I lay wrapped in Ren, my rescue blanket, after being saved from getting stranded at sea.
Once the evening wind began blowing, I took a shower, peeked inside the fridge, and made frozen steak for dinner. The house had a television—Ren wanted to know what was going on in the world even when he was staying here, so he would watch TV and call people up—but I never turned it on when I was by myself.
After dinner, I locked up for the night and began reading the book I brought with me, The Notebook of Black Magic by Tatsuhiko Shibusawa. It was muggy out. I knew Ren wasn’t coming tonight, either, so I was bored.
At around eight o’clock, I suddenly started hearing motorcycles getting closer, along with the shouts of men as they revved their roaring engines. It startled me so much that I felt my heart leap in my chest.
They passed the house, then came back from the opposite direction and circled around before fading into the distance again. That was when I realized they were racing up the back street behind the house and circling the hill.
I felt helpless, surrounded. Who knew what they’d do to me if they found out a woman was here alone? I started running around the house in my bare feet, closing each and every shutter I could find. How ridiculous, being this worked up when I was alone on vacation. I resented Ren for it.
Speaking of resentment, we’d promised to go to Hawaii together a short while back, but minutes before the plane was about to depart, Ren still hadn’t shown up. I cried, begging the flight attendant to wait for him, and just when I thought it was too late, Ren came sprinting over, covered in sweat and without a single suitcase. We got onto the plane as soon as the door closed, and moments later, it started preparing for takeoff.
Ren fell asleep basically the instant he sat down and spent most of our time in Hawaii asleep as well. It didn’t take long for our bad moods to worsen until we clashed.
“I’ve had enough of this! You’re always busy! Busy, busy, busy, busy, busy, busy! I’m sick of hearing how busy you are!” I’d shouted in tears after we got into a fight.
“Aw, don’t be like that, Mimi. It’s only ’cause you’re here with me that I’m able to get all relaxed like this…”
Ren had tried comforting me at first, but he started trailing off and fell back asleep. In the end, it was as if we’d gone to Hawaii for the sole purpose of sleeping.
Just remembering that made me resent him. Did he honestly think I was going to wait here for him forever? How insulting. I was even annoyed that he called me. I didn’t want to talk to him if he wasn’t going to come here. I refused.
If he was only going to call me to say he couldn’t make it, then I wish he’d never promised he’d be here in the first place. Why even make these plans if he couldn’t keep them?