Alright. The next morning went pretty well. Omi was still humming that same tune from the other day. I knew enough to figure it was probably a love song of some sorts. I'd have to ask him about it later. It’s starting to bug me that I don't know what it is.
But anyway. Aya was no longer talking to me. I found this out by wishing him a Good Morning this morning when I first saw him at breakfast. He paid me no attention, not through lack of trying on my part. So Aya was not talking to me, which of course, he did not tell me. Ken was getting back to normal. He made a few slightly disinterested comments about my mental health when we were opening.
"Well you certainly seem cheerful this morning." He commented.
"Amazing what hot chocolate and good company will do for a man's spirits." I answered. Ken frowned.
"Hot Chocolate?" he asked.
"Beware teenagers bearing gifts."
Ken decided to change the subject, and started looking at Aya who was looking at anything BUT me. Then he looked back at me. Then he changed the subject.
"So why won't Aya talk to you?" He asked.
"I don't know. He won't tell me. He's not speaking to me." Ken facefaulted.
"Oh yeah." He said, and went on to water the flowers. I noticed that he was watering properly instead of creating a jolly puddle on the floor like he had a few days earlier.
Other than that, Things were quiet. Too quiet. I couldn't stand how quiet things were. I was extremely grateful when a customer arrived a few minutes later.
"Hello, can I help you?" I asked without looking up.
"I'd like to get some flowers for my husband's 50th birthday. I want to decorate the whole house with them." An older woman, about 47 years of age or so asked. I turned to face her, a warm smile upon my face. I recognised her. She was the woman at my Father's house. My stepmother?
"You're that young man who was at the door yesterday." She recognised me. She stepped closer to me, and lowered her voice as if discussing a secret.
"If you don’t mind me asking, what did you want with my husband? I found your business card on his desk, but he won’t talk about it, and he’s been really irritable ever since."
I was baffled. Should I tell her the truth and possibly destroy her marriage, or should I lie and end up feeling rotten all day? All week, maybe? I decided to tell her truth. She deserved as much, and didn’t I deserve to be acknowledged as well?
"Fujitaka-san?" I started. "My name is Kudou Yohji, and all I wanted with your husband was to meet him. He’s my father." At first Fujitaka didn’t quite understand how that was possible. It was obvious that she wasn’t my mother. I clarified.
"I’m the result of an affair Fujitaka Okuda had with another woman 23 years ago." Now it was clear she understood. She looked me over from head to toe. When she had decided that I was telling the truth, she burst out angrily in the middle of the shop.
"I can’t believe it. THAT LOUSY, STINKING GOOD-FOR-NOTHING SCUMBAG!" Through the glass doors and display windows of the shop, I could see some passers-by stop and look at me. They gave me a dirty look, and kept going.
I know what kind of reputation I’ve developed. I realise what sort of impression a woman ranting about some jerk in the shop will leave. As if my love life wasn’t horrid enough already. I suggested that Fujitaka-san and I take a walk. The glare I got from Aya-kun on my way out was enough to convince me it was a good idea.
About a half an hour later, my stepmother and I were on much better terms. It seems that my father covered up his affair with my mother using such well-worn excuses as "I was working late." I also learned that my stepmother was developing suspicions when the affair ended. I also have a little brother, about Aya’s age, in college. Perhaps the most amazing thing is the fact that even with everything that I represented, she still wanted the flowers, enough to fill the house, regardless of the cost.
"Deliver them around noon on Saturday, and you can stay for the party! You already know the address." She insisted. I chuckled. It was a nice thought, but I don’t know how welcome I’d be with the other guests.
"Are you sure that’s okay?" I asked. She just smiled back at me.
"If it’s not, that’s just too bad."
"Welcome back, Yohji-kun!" Omi greeted me when I returned. "How did it go? Who was that lady?" He pulled me up a chair at the table he was now sitting in, and looked up at me with confident expectation.
"It was interesting. The lady is my father’s wife, and she recognised me from yesterday." I sighed.
"Whoa, really?" Ken asked, joining us. Aya stood, arms folded, leaning against a wall nearby. From that point he could listen in, and still maintain his silence towards me.
"It gets better. She invited me to dad’s 50th birthday party Saturday."
"You’re just trying to hide the fact you’re going to a club to pick up some girl. Getting lonely already, Kudou?" Aya cut in. So now he was speaking, but only because he couldn’t keep silent. I’ve had it up to HERE with Aya’s attitude. I’ve warned him on several occasions that it would lose him friends. Looks like he’s gonna have to learn the hard way. Slowly I stood up and looked at Aya, copying his glare as best I could. I walked up to him and put my hands on both his cheeks. Then I kissed him. Forcefully. With as little feeling as possible. Mechanically even. Then I released him a moment later.
"It’s over, Ran-bo." I whispered, and went downstairs.