zone?” Elle leaned against the wall, watching him pack. She nodded at the dresser. “No, the other drawer.”
“Why do you think?” Ford said bitterly. “Lone crusader for the truth, all his crackpot theories.”
“Your father’s a good man. He just needs help. He lost everything that day.”
“So did I. But I got over it.”
“I can see that,” she said wryly.
Ford paused in his search, realizing how he must sound. A photo of Elle and Sam, residing atop the dresser, reminded him not to take this out on her, and how much this whole situation sucked.
“We’ve worked so hard for everything we have, Elle. I’m afraid he’ll ruin it. Every time I let him close, he tries to drag me back. I can’t live in the past. I can’t put our family through that.”
“He
is
your family, Ford.” She came toward him, smiling. “You’ll be back in a few days. It’s not the end of the world.”
He wondered what he had ever done to deserve somebody so patient and understanding. He pulled her close and they kissed, doing their best to make every moment count.
Just a few days
, he thought.
That’s all.
SIX
“What is the duration of your stay?” the customs official asked, inspecting Ford’s passport.
An endless flight, one connection, and fifteen time zones later, Ford trudged wearily through Narita Airport, toting his carry-on luggage. He’d managed to catch a little sleep on the planes, but the prospect of returning to Japan had stirred up unwanted memories. Bad dreams had followed him all the way across the Pacific.
“One day,” he said curtly.
He fully intended to deal with his dad’s latest mess and get back on a plane to Frisco as soon as humanly possible. He’d promised Sam two weeks and he’d be damned if he’d let his crazy father cut into that precious time with Sam. More than he already had, that is.
“And the nature of your visit?” the customs official asked.
Ford paused briefly before answering. “Family.”
That was good enough for the official, who briskly stamped Ford’s passport. Ford bypassed baggage claim and headed straight for the taxi station outside the airport. The bright sunlight came as shock after leaving Frisco in the middle of the night. He wanted to catch a cab to Tokyo and crash in a cheap hotel, but instead he asked the cabbie to drive him to the police station where his father was still being held.
The drive was both longer and faster than Ford would have preferred. It was late afternoon by the time he found himself sitting in the austere waiting area of a Tokyo police station. Stark institutional walls and sparse furniture rendered the room inhospitable, not that anyone was ever likely to drop by for the amenities. Wanted posters and security alerts were pinned to a bulletin board. Ford tried flipping through some old magazines, only to discover that his Japanese wasn’t what it used to be, despite the long-ago efforts of Miss Okada. He glumly watched a parade of cops and perpetrators pass in and out of the station. He would’ve killed for a cup of black coffee, but that didn’t seem to be an option.
A middle-aged couple, their faces drawn, sat stiffly in the seats beside him. They looked about as happy to be here as he was, although he guessed that they hadn’t traveled nearly so far. Ford didn’t have the energy to try to make conversation with the couple, who appeared caught up in their own troubles anyway. They gripped each other’s hands as they waited. He wondered how long they’d been married.
A buzzer sounded and an inner door unlocked. Ford and the couple looked up to see a bedraggled teenager, decked out in Goth regalia, escorted into the waiting room by a duty cop. The boy’s Mohawked head was hung in shame and he stared at the floor, unable to meet his parent’s gaze. The black mascara around his eyes was smeared, as though he’d been crying. The teen’s mother placed a hand over her mouth, stifling a sob.
The father, a sober-looking
“Why do you think?” Ford said bitterly. “Lone crusader for the truth, all his crackpot theories.”
“Your father’s a good man. He just needs help. He lost everything that day.”
“So did I. But I got over it.”
“I can see that,” she said wryly.
Ford paused in his search, realizing how he must sound. A photo of Elle and Sam, residing atop the dresser, reminded him not to take this out on her, and how much this whole situation sucked.
“We’ve worked so hard for everything we have, Elle. I’m afraid he’ll ruin it. Every time I let him close, he tries to drag me back. I can’t live in the past. I can’t put our family through that.”
“He
is
your family, Ford.” She came toward him, smiling. “You’ll be back in a few days. It’s not the end of the world.”
He wondered what he had ever done to deserve somebody so patient and understanding. He pulled her close and they kissed, doing their best to make every moment count.
Just a few days
, he thought.
That’s all.
SIX
“What is the duration of your stay?” the customs official asked, inspecting Ford’s passport.
An endless flight, one connection, and fifteen time zones later, Ford trudged wearily through Narita Airport, toting his carry-on luggage. He’d managed to catch a little sleep on the planes, but the prospect of returning to Japan had stirred up unwanted memories. Bad dreams had followed him all the way across the Pacific.
“One day,” he said curtly.
He fully intended to deal with his dad’s latest mess and get back on a plane to Frisco as soon as humanly possible. He’d promised Sam two weeks and he’d be damned if he’d let his crazy father cut into that precious time with Sam. More than he already had, that is.
“And the nature of your visit?” the customs official asked.
Ford paused briefly before answering. “Family.”
That was good enough for the official, who briskly stamped Ford’s passport. Ford bypassed baggage claim and headed straight for the taxi station outside the airport. The bright sunlight came as shock after leaving Frisco in the middle of the night. He wanted to catch a cab to Tokyo and crash in a cheap hotel, but instead he asked the cabbie to drive him to the police station where his father was still being held.
The drive was both longer and faster than Ford would have preferred. It was late afternoon by the time he found himself sitting in the austere waiting area of a Tokyo police station. Stark institutional walls and sparse furniture rendered the room inhospitable, not that anyone was ever likely to drop by for the amenities. Wanted posters and security alerts were pinned to a bulletin board. Ford tried flipping through some old magazines, only to discover that his Japanese wasn’t what it used to be, despite the long-ago efforts of Miss Okada. He glumly watched a parade of cops and perpetrators pass in and out of the station. He would’ve killed for a cup of black coffee, but that didn’t seem to be an option.
A middle-aged couple, their faces drawn, sat stiffly in the seats beside him. They looked about as happy to be here as he was, although he guessed that they hadn’t traveled nearly so far. Ford didn’t have the energy to try to make conversation with the couple, who appeared caught up in their own troubles anyway. They gripped each other’s hands as they waited. He wondered how long they’d been married.
A buzzer sounded and an inner door unlocked. Ford and the couple looked up to see a bedraggled teenager, decked out in Goth regalia, escorted into the waiting room by a duty cop. The boy’s Mohawked head was hung in shame and he stared at the floor, unable to meet his parent’s gaze. The black mascara around his eyes was smeared, as though he’d been crying. The teen’s mother placed a hand over her mouth, stifling a sob.
The father, a sober-looking
Similar Books
