Silent Honor by Danielle Steel Read Free Book Online Page B

to her father. But it was only with elders that he ever bowed, never among young people, or even people his own age. Somehow, knowing Masao, he had expected her to be less steeped in tradition. But he remembered that in his brief single meeting with her, Hidemi had been very formal.
    “Do you know where your bags are?” he asked quietly, a calming force in the storm all around them. The trunks were being delivered to areas on the pier alphabetically, where customs officers explored their contents, and she pointed at the T, as he began to wonder if she spoke English. As yet, she had not said a word to him, all she had done was bow, and glance up at him once cautiously, though she averted her eyes shyly.
    “I think they will be over there,” she said carefully, answering his unspoken question about her English. She spoke it deliberately and clearly, although it was obvious that she was not very comfortable with it. “I have only one trunk,” she said, sounding even to her own ears very much like Hidemi. Her father and Yuji had an ease with languages, and spoke English as though they used it constantly. Hidemi's English was far less fluent, as was Hiroko's.
    “How was the trip?” Takeo asked as they went to the area she had pointed to, and they found her single trunk already waiting. A customs officer was standing nearby and gave her clearance surprisingly quickly.
    Then Takeo waved at a porter and indicated where his car was, as he led Hiroko away from the ship, to meet her new cousins. He had driven there in a new Chevrolet station wagon he'd bought that year. It was dark green and carried the whole family with ease, even the dog, who went everywhere with them. But they had left her at home this time so they could put Hiroko's bags in the back, and drive back to Palo Alto. But all of his children had come, and they were all excited to meet her.
    “The trip was very smooth,” she said in studied answer. “Thank you.” She still couldn't understand why he was speaking English to her. He was Japanese, after all. She could only imagine that her father had asked him to make her practice her English. But she was aching to speak Japanese with him. It seemed foolish to be conversing in English. He wasn't any more American than she was, but he had lived in the States for twenty years, and his wife and children had been born here.
    He walked ahead of her through the crowd on the pier, and the porter followed behind them with her trunk, and it was only a few minutes before they reached the car, where Reiko and the children were waiting. Reiko, in a red dress, hopped out of the car quickly, and embraced Hiroko warmly while Takeo helped put the trunk in the back of the Chevy.
    “Oh, you look so beautiful,” Reiko said, smiling at her. She was a pretty woman, of about Hidemi's age, but her hair was cropped short, she was wearing makeup, and she had a red dress on that looked very glamorous to Hiroko. Hiroko bowed low to her, to show her respect for her, just as she had to Uncle Takeo. “You don't have to do that here,” Reiko said, still smiling at her, and holding her hand as she turned to her children and introduced them. She called them Ken, Sally, and Tami. Hiroko had always heard of them as Kenji, Sachiko, and Tamiko. Ken was sixteen, and surprisingly tall for a Japanese boy, and Sally was fourteen but looked very grown-up in saddle shoes, a gray skirt, and a pink cashmere sweater. She was a pretty girl, and she looked very much like her mother. And Tami was adorable. She was eight years old, small and lively, and before Hiroko could say a word to her, she threw her arms around Hiroko's neck and kissed her.
    “Welcome home, Hiroko!” Tami smiled happily at her, and then commented immediately on how tiny Hiroko was. “I'm almost as tall as you are.” Hiroko laughed, and bowed to them, and they watched her do it with interest. “We don't do that here,” Tami explained to her. “Only people's grandmothers do stuff