In Plain View. Julie Shigekuni
to anger her mother further in case she wasn’t supposed to agree.
“See?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Gizo’s charming, but you don’t think: people are charming for a reason. Well, Gizo has his own business.”
“You mean the security company he runs? I’ve seen his office behind the store.”
“You saw what he showed you, but how about what he didn’t show you? Did you notice all the money he makes? Lets him be good to his father—a good son.”
So Gizo ran some kind of racket. So what? What was she supposed to notice? Mako wasn’t making sense, but Daidai knew better than to say so.
After her visit with her mother, Daidai headed for home along the 405 Freeway. She stared up at the clouds hanging still and low, unusual for Los Angeles even in winter. In the grayness of the afternoon, it was as if the old sights were asking her to look at them anew. The hillside cemetery maxed out on room for gravesites, the buildings that made up Westwood clinging tightly to their quadrant, the tram that snaked its way up to the Getty Museum—it all amounted to what Daidai perceived as loneliness. Her father, who’d expressed his fondness in overt gestures and impeccably timed appearances every evening, was gone. Her marriage to Hiroshi had come with the assurance that she would never be alone. But she’d been on her own since she’d gone on leave, and with the loss of the baby they’d worked so hard to conceive she felt bereft.
She had the company of her mother, however erratic Mako’s behavior. But even that relationship had begun to feel shaky. Perhaps rather than separate her from herself, the miscarriage had dislodged her from her mother. Was that why she’d been inconsolable? Then there was Hiroshi, who’d barely looked up from his work, choosing to emphasize the same facts she’d spun for her mother’s benefit: that rather than loss, the ordeal she’d been through had foreshadowed her luck by proving that she could get pregnant. But what was the point of generating the same information they’d paid the doctor to render? The pregnancy, rather than affirm a potential life, had been a prelude to death.
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