Zen Attitude by Sujata Massey Read Free Book Online

buy for a simple housewife like myself.”
    “I bought while in a big hurry. When I examined the tansu at the apartment, I found a problem with the metalwork. The original lock plates had been replaced with older ones.”
    “What do you mean?” Nana Mihori sounded more perplexed than angry.
    “The chest was built during the Meiji era, not the Edo period. It’s old, but worth considerably less than what I paid for it. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I feel I cannot present it.” I bowed my head, not wanting to see her reaction.
    At last her voice came. “What will you do with it?”
    “I shall return it.” Etiquette kept me from telling her that it probably wouldn’t work out.
    “I see,” Nana said after another silence. “Certainly I am disappointed, but I defer to you. After all, I am no antiques expert. Just an enthusiast.”
    “I’m sorry I let you down. I would really like to keep looking for a piece for you. I wouldn’t expect you to take the one I’ve bought.”
    “I think we should just let the matter rest for now.” Nana turned a smooth face to me, the one I’d seen her use on guests she was meeting for the first time. It was chilling.
    “Let what rest?” a rough, low-pitched voice asked.
    Akemi Mihori had crept up behind us. She had swapped her judo-gi for a black Spandex sports bra and shorts that revealed bulging muscles in her legs and arms.
    “Akemi!” Nana Mihori seemed flustered. “I was just showing your room.”
    “So you’re the antiques buyer! Hey, aren’t you American?” Akemi said in English, grabbing my hand in a handshake like iron. I was relieved when it ended. She used the same hand to vigorously wipe her damp brow, raining a few drops of sweat on me.
    “Yes. My name is Rei Shimura,” I answered, trying to pretend her body fluids hadn’t hit me.
    “Shimura-san says there’s some problem with the tansu ,” Nana Mihori said. I was no longer on a first-name basis with her.
    “Really?” Akemi was persisting in English, although Nana and I were speaking Japanese. “Miss Shimura, do you run?”
    “No. I’m not very athletic.” I had no idea where she was leading.
    “You’re a swimmer, right? Given that you smell like the sea.” Akemi laughed heartily. “Come on, I thought all Americans were sports fanatics!”
    “Sorry to disappoint. I’ve disappointed your family in a lot of ways.”
    “Don’t worry,” Nana said in her newly cold voice, and Akemi’s gaze bounced from me to her mother as if she’d finally caught on to the tension.
    “I must be going. It’s getting late,” I said.
    Despite the discomfort of our situation, I expected Nana would offer me another glass of tea. She also might have asked about my expenses from two weeks of travel. Instead, she made a vague excuse about needing to return some telephone calls and sailed off in the direction of her office. I knew she was furious.
    “Just a moment, Miss Shimura. I want to show you my jogging trail on the way out. How can you walk in those?” Akemi snorted at the sight of me struggling back into my tight pumps.
    “You wear a judo-gi to work out, don’t you? These are part of my work uniform.”
    “I’d think your fine shoes would get dirty, searching all over the country for antiques! That is, if you do it with any kind of spirit—”
    “Obviously I have no spirit!” I wished she would retreat to her gym, but she stuck her short, wide feet into Asics running shoes and followed me outside. When we were a few feet from the house, Akemi slapped me on the shoulder.
    “Catering to ladies like my mother must be hell.”
    “I don’t understand.” I’d never heard anyone in Japan speak so disrespectfully about a parent.
    “Don’t believe that I wanted that stupid tansu. To tell the truth, your failure will delay my dreaded bedroom makeover.” Akemi strode down a dirt path leading away from the house and into the woods. I hurried to catch up and started to say something more about what