Page 25 of A Serving of Hope

“Right. I’ll get to the point.” He took another sip of tea and went on. “Five years ago, I went to a high school reunion at a hotel in Sakai. They’d been having them every three years, but I’d always been too busy with work to attend. But this time I went—and, well, it turned into something of a fateful encounter.” Toshio’s cheeks had flushed red, and he seemed to breathe a little faster.

“A fateful encounter?” asked Koishi, readying her pen with renewed interest.

“I ran into my old sweetheart. It had been over three decades, but the moment I saw her face, it was like all those years had never passed. I’d aged, of course, but she looked just how I remembered her. She’s a beautiful woman.”

“May I ask the name of this beautiful woman?”

“Miyuki Yamato.”

“I’m guessing she made the shogayaki.”

Toshio nodded, a shy boyish grin spreading across his face. “There were lots of other people at the reunion, so we just had a catch-up, said goodbye, and that was that. But afterward I couldn’t stop thinking about her. So, a month later, I went to visit her. She lives in Mimasaka, near Okayama.”

“Can I just get something straight?”

“Go ahead.”

“Sorry to be so blunt, but— You were, and are, married. Yes? And what about this Miyuki in Mimasaka?”

“She’s single. She married not long after high school and moved to Mimasaka, but her husband died young.”

“In other words, you were having an affair.”

Toshio lowered his gaze. “Yes.”

“And you want us to recreate a meal your mistress made for you. Do I have that right?” A jagged edge had come into Koishi’s voice.

“That’s right,” answered Toshio in little more than a whisper. Koishi said nothing, her fingers tightening around the pen. “I know it isn’t a very decent thing to ask.”

“But you figured we’d help you regardless,” said Koishi quietly.

“Is there any chance you could see your way to taking this on?”

There was a pause. Then, having regained her composure, Koishi sat up and flipped to a new page in her notebook. “All right.”

“I really appreciate it.”

“So, a month after the reunion, you paid Miyuki a visit, and that’s when she made you the shogayaki?”

“Not quite. She first cooked it for me a year or so after the reunion.”

“Wait. You carried on with her for a whole year?” asked Koishi, the edge coming back into her voice.

“I’m embarrassed to admit it, but for a total of three and a half years, Miyuki and I were…” Toshio swallowed the rest of his sentence.

“And your wife never found out?”

“My company has a regular client in Okayama, so I’d head there once a month on business and stop by Mimasaka on the way. Sayo never suspected a thing.”

Koishi grimaced slightly. “Once a month, huh.”

“I honestly never imagined it’d end up that way. I did feel guilty toward Sayo, but I just couldn’t stop myself from wanting to see Miyuki.”

“Does she live alone, then?”

“She runs a little café on the banks of the Kajinami River, not far from the town hall. Hibiscus, it’s called. A kissaten-type place. She lives upstairs. Hibiscuses are my favorite flower, see. Imagine my surprise when I realized she’d named it after them! Every month I’d meet my client in Okayama, then drop by Hibiscus in the evening. I’d sit there waiting in the café until six, when it closed, and then we’d go upstairs and have dinner together. That was our routine. I always sat in a corner seat. You know, keeping a low profile. At first I’d insist on heading back to my hotel in Okayama afterward, but…well, Okayama was quite a drive. Before I knew it, I’d begun spending the night.” Toshio’s cheeks had turned bright red.

“If she runs a café, she must be a whiz in the kitchen,” said Koishi, steering them back onto the topic of food.