Page 149 of Hard to Judge

“It could be.” Hailey pulls her long hair to one side. A curl twists the red in a gentle wave that falls just below her left breast. She settles her other hand over Hota’s nape.

The line rings a second time.

Hota’s lips move. To make another excuse, I’m certain.

“Odenwa arigatou gozaimasu, Kido-san.” A jubilant female voice gushes through the phone’s speaker in greeting.

Hota’s brows go high in surprise. “Eigo de onegaishimasu.”

“Yes, we can speak in English, of course,” she quickly concedes.

From what I know of his father, speaking in any language other than Japanese would not be so easily received. Anticipation knots tighter in my belly. The need to know what is going on, so I can best support my love makes my foot tap impatiently.

“My name is Emi Saito. I am your father’s assistant.” Her words reverberate around the room, hitting me right in the belly.

A part of me is pleased his father’s behind this, while the other half would love nothing more than to pummel the guy for how he’s treated Hota. Hell, how he is treating Hota. The man couldn’t pick up the fucking phone himself?

Hota’s drawn brows are replaced with a hint of a sneer, clearly thinking along the same lines.

It’s a relief in and of itself. I can’t tell him how to react to this situation, no matter how off the rails it goes. He has to be the one to steer the train or bail off the side. Either way, it’s my job to ride or jump with him.

“Your father would like to see you,” Emi continues.

“He couldn’t call me himself to say so?” Hota snaps.

“I am sorry to tell you this over the phone, but your father is not well.”

I stand on the balcony of my childhood home and barely remember the incident that started the chain of events that have amounted to my life. Instead, I remember taking tea with my mother in the mornings. I remember sitting on the lounger, playing my Game Boy, while she relaxed on her lounger with a book.

I remember feeling loved.

The sculpted iron balustrade is unchanged. As are the matching dining table and loungers.

No, the only thing different out here is me.

The guilt I carried for my mother’s death has faded. My worth has grown. I know what I deserve. I deserve to be loved unconditionally and I am. My family, Hailey and Arlo, wait in the sitting room for me to collect myself.

My grandparents are dead. Long gone.

Emi said my grandmother died less than a year after I was shipped off to boarding school. I don’t know if there’s a correlation between those two incidents, and I don’t know if I want there to be or not.

My grandfather succumbed two years later, though she said his mind gave up long before his body did. And again, I don’t know if that is an effect of my grandmother’s passing or not.

There is so much I don’t know.

What is wrong with my father?

What does he want from me? Forgiveness? A relationship, as long as it could last?

Can I give it?

Whatever the case, it’s time to find out.

I return to the sitting room and find them standing at the window, holding tight to one another, looking out at Regent's Park. It was my favorite thing about this place, besides my mom.

“I’m ready.”

They turn at the sound of my voice and hurry to my sides, bracketing me and fortifying me as they have since Friday when I made the call.

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