The Suite Spot (Beck Sisters #2)(60)

“Obviously, he agreed to all of that.”

She laughs. “He didn’t have a choice.”

“Well, he could have married one of your sisters,” I say, which cracks her up. “I hope this isn’t too forward of a question, but why didn’t you give your kids Japanese names?”

“When I was pregnant with Owen, we had so many discussions about names,” she says. “Ultimately, we decided that our children would probably be othered, but it didn’t have to be because of their names. Forty-four years later, I’m not completely certain that was the right choice.”

Yōko looks reflective but then shakes her head. “You do the best you can and hope it turns out okay.”

She reaches into the box and takes out a color photo of three children sitting in-line on a wooden toboggan with a curved nose. It’s an action shot, caught on their way down a toboggan chute. Their mouths are open wide—caught mid-scream—but their expressions are pure delight.

“Mason, Laurel, and Owen,” she says. “A photographer from one of the local papers took it for an article about the toboggan run. I’m sure with a little digital magic, this could be made into a black-and-white photo to match the others.”

“Definitely.”

I dip into the box and find a photo of Mason as a little boy, wearing a scouting uniform. He’s not quite as round as Russell, but his hair is sticking straight up, and his sash is almost completely covered with badges. A laugh escapes me.

“What’s funny?” Yōko asks, craning her neck to look at the picture.

I explain.

“Oh yes,” she says, laughing. “Even though that movie came out when they were adults, Owen and Laurel called him Russell for the longest time. You probably shouldn’t hang that in the taproom, though. Wouldn’t want to embarrass him.”

“I won’t,” I say. “I’d like to frame it and put it on his nightstand, though.”

“I have a frame that will fit. And I have one more photo for you.” She rummages through the box, then brings out the image of an elderly Japanese woman. Her face is deeply lined with wrinkles and her white hair is pulled up into a bun near the crown of her head. Strapped to her back is a round-faced baby. “This is my grandmother, and this baby is me.”

“Oh, this is beautiful. All of the photos are so meaningful, and Mason is going to love them,” I say. “Thank you for taking the time to do this with me.”

“Thank you for holding my son’s heart in such steady hands.” Before the moment has the chance to get mushy, Yōko places her palm on my knee and uses me for leverage as she stands. “Before you go, let me get you that ramen recipe.”



* * *



I stop to pick up Maisie on the way home, and Avery answers the front door wearing pajamas. Her skin is pale, and she has dark circles under her eyes.

“Maisie isn’t here,” she says, talking to me through the screen door. “Not long after you left, Leo started complaining that he didn’t feel good. He threw up and his temperature was high, and I didn’t want Maisie catching it, so Mason came and picked her up.”

“Oh no. Why didn’t you call me? I would have come back.”

“It wasn’t dire,” Avery says. “And Mason didn’t mind.”

“Are you okay? You don’t look so great.”

“I think Leo and I caught the crud together.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“We’ll be fine,” she says. “Thanks, though. Now, I’m going back to bed before I pass out on the living room floor.”

I drive straight home, where I find Mason and Maisie so engrossed in The Fox and the Hound that neither even registers my presence. She’s snuggled up against his side and he has his arm around her. When Maisie notices me, she scrambles off the couch and flings herself at my legs.

“Mama! I made beer!” The apples of her cheeks are a little pinker than they were when I left, but she doesn’t seem sick. She looks happy. “And we went kayaking.”

“I let her push the button to start the mash tun,” Mason explains, hitting pause on the remote as he gets up from the couch. “After that, I rented a kayak up at the state park and we paddled around the north bay until it was time for a nap.”

“That sounds like a lot.”

He kisses me. “It was. And it wasn’t. We had fun.”

“I appreciate you doing it. Thank you,” I say, heading toward the kitchen. “By the way, I brought soup base from your mom, and she sent along some chashu and shoyu tamago for ramen.”

Mason follows me. “Can I tell you that hearing you talk about ramen is making me kind of hot?”

“Not right now.” I tilt my head toward Maisie. “But maybe around eight thirty you could give me all the details.”

His laugh is slightly wicked as he opens the containers I brought from his mom’s house. I sit at the island, showing him the photos while he makes dinner. Like his mom, he uses chopsticks while cooking. I don’t tell him I ate ramen for lunch, because watching him cook makes me kind of hot.





CHAPTER 21



Nepakartojama

Lithuanian

“a never-to-be-repeated perfect situation”