Serious Moonlight(70)

I stole a look at her. She truly was extraordinarily pretty. When she glanced at me, I quickly looked away and continued scanning the room. Fake swords, jeweled turbans, and puzzle boxes. Their house put the magic shop in Pike Place to shame. But there were also posters of non-magic theater productions—was that Rent?

“You give people lessons now?” I asked.

“Dance lessons,” she said.

“A dancer,” I murmured.

“Theater. Videos. Commercials. Mostly musicals on cruises these days. If you ever find yourself on an Alaskan Disney cruise this fall, I’m in Frozen.”

Wow. Why hadn’t Daniel told me any of this? His mom was fascinating. We talked a little more, walking past memorabilia, but before she stepped around a folding screen that separated the living room from the dining room, she suddenly pulled me aside and whispered, “Look, he’s been through hell, and he’s everything to me. If you break his heart or do anything to hurt him, I won’t be happy. Understand?”

Heat flashed through my chest and rose to my cheeks. I stuttered while forming an answer, but because I wasn’t quite sure what that answer was, I never got it out. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t waiting for a reply. She gave me a tight smile, as if to say, I’m only kidding . . . or am I? Then she ducked into the dining room and waved her arm, saying, “Hey! Someone’s here to see you.”

Across the dining room, I caught a glimpse of dark hair and a single earbud, its mate swinging loose. Then Cherry was shifting out of the way, and there was Daniel, wearing low-slung jeans, a black T-shirt that said CHAOTIC GOOD, and a startled look on his face. He’d been setting the table, and nearly poked himself in the eye with a fork when he snatched the earbud out of his ear.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I answered.

Jangly, tinny guitars still floated from one side of his headphones. He struggled to pause the music while his mother hovered at my back. I glanced at her, and she murmured something about getting the food ready and left us alone.

“What are you doing here?” Daniel asked, and then quickly blinked several times. “I mean, not that I’m upset about it. I’m just . . .”

“I thought I’d . . . I mean, I didn’t realize you’d be eating dinner.”

He relaxed a little. “My grandparents would eat at three thirty if we let them.”

“Ah.” I scratched my arm. “They seem nice.”

“You met everyone?”

“Even Blueberry. That’s one big cat.”

“A big fucking cat,” he agreed. “She follows Jiji everywhere. Sleeps in the bed with them. It’s ridiculous. They bought a king-size mattress to accommodate her.”

“Wow,” I said. Maybe my weird family had some competition.

After a moment he tugged on his bad ear and said, “You must be a better detective than me, because you actually found my house.”

“It wasn’t all that hard. I mean, I lucked out and ran into your grandfather after I bused my way out here, but it wasn’t hard to find the street address. Not that many hippie communes in Seattle, surprisingly.”

He chuckled. “This place, I swear. It’s the worst, and the best. It’s weird. I don’t know. I think we’ll eventually get kicked out. The guy running everything hates us. He likes rules, and we’re rule breakers. Water and oil.”

We stood on opposite sides of the table.

“Hey, Birdie?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought you worked tonight.”

“Melinda changed the schedule two days ago.”

“Oh.” He straightened the silverware on the table. “So, why are you here?”

I hesitated, looking over my shoulder into the living room. Muffled whispering floated around the walls. This wasn’t exactly the best place to have the conversation I wanted to have. So, I just said, “After sushi, you told me to text if I changed my mind about things.”

“But you didn’t text,” he said carefully.

I shook my head slowly. “I didn’t.”

His eyes searched my face, but if he was going to ask me anything more, it was lost under the sound of laughter coming from the living room; his family was headed our way.

“We should talk later,” Daniel said quickly.

“Alone,” I added.

“That I can arrange,” he said with a soft smile.





“Romance and detective work won’t mix tonight!”

—Nancy Drew, The Bungalow Mystery (1930)





22




* * *



Dinner with the Aokis could be summed up in two words: boisterous and passionate.

During the many overlapping conversations that took place, I learned several things about their family. That Jiji and Baba were retired. That Jiji’s father was forced to live in a Japanese-American internment camp in Puyallup during WWII. And that they visited Japan for the first time on their anniversary last year. I also learned that Cherry was a background dancer in a national Coke commercial when Daniel was three, and that Baba really had watched every episode of Murder, She Wrote with Daniel.

But after an hour of nonstop dinner conversation, I was thankful when Daniel spoke up and said, “We’re going to eat and run, people. Birdie has to get back on a ferry soon, and I need to give her a key card for the hotel, which is why she came out here.”