Crimson Footprints (42 page)

"Gothic Revival."

"What?"

Kenji hesitated.

"Look again."

Daichi held up the magazine
and Kenji studied the cover carefully.

"Now what is it?"

He frowned. He was trembling
ever so slightly, never taking his eyes off the cathedral on the
cover.

"What is it,
Kenji?"

He looked up. "Gothic
Revival?"

"Say it like you mean
it."

"Gothic Revival."

"Louder."

"Gothic Revival."

Daichi tossed the magazine
aside and took his seat again. "Tell your mother we'll take our
lunch in here."

Kenji raised an eyebrow.
"We?"

Daichi looked up. "Yes,
‘we.’ Unless you're unwilling to share a meal with your
otosan
."

Kenji grinned and
disappeared from the room.

PART FOUR

CHAPTER
SIXTY-FIVE

Deena’s khaki Louis Vuitton
clutch was perfectly suited for the iridescent capris and form
fitting three-quarter length white button-up she chose to wear to
meet her grandmother for coffee. Grandma Emma on the other hand,
donned a barnyard red potato sack dress complete with looming white
buttons and off-white orthopedic slippers. As they exchanged icy
greetings, Deena was perfectly aware of the violent contrast they
made.

They’d not spoken since
Deena brought Tak over for Sunday dinner two months prior. The meal
had been a fiasco from the onset. When they arrived, Grandma Emma
peered behind the two as if she were expecting a second, more
acceptable man, as Caroline, Keisha and Lizzie gaped in wide-eyed
astonishment. And the questions! Deena’s cheeks still burned with
the shame.

“
So Tic,” Aunt Caroline
said as she leaned forward. “What part of China you from
again?”

“
His name is Tak not Tic.
And he’s not Chinese,” Deena said.

“
I’m—I’m actually from
here.” Tak said.

“
What do you mean here?”
Caroline demanded.

“
I mean here, here. Miami.
I was born here.” Tak shifted in his seat and cast Deena a single,
amused glance.

“
Oh.” Aunt Caroline
said.

“
Well, where your daddy
from?” Grandma Emma asked, mashing collard greens and cornbread
together with her fingertips. “What parts a China he
from?”

Tak sighed. “My father’s
from Phoenix.”

“
But he wasn’t born there
though, right? He was born in China. Right?”

Tak shot Grandma Emma a
pointed look. “My father was born in Phoenix and his father in San
Jose.” He took a sip of water. “But I do know what you’re asking
me. I’m Japanese.”

Deena recalled the poise
with which Tak handled everything from being offered pig entrails
to fielding questions as to whether he was “some kin” to the
Chinaman who ran Chan Wok’s on 69
^th
. And just when she’d been
certain that she could tolerate no more, Deena discovered she was
right.

“
So, you been down to the
prison to tell your momma you getting married?” Caroline asked
sweetly.

Deena closed her eyes and
buried her face in her hands. She would not cry. She refused to
cry. Next to her, Tak squeezed her shoulder.

“
Hmph. You know she ain’t
told him that. No man in they right mind going to fools with a
woman got that kinda evil in her blood. You carries that stuff in
your blood, you know. Evil ways,” Grandma Emma advised with a wave
of her fork.

“
Actually, I know all about
her mother,” Tak said. “We talked about it a long time
ago.”

“
Well, you know Emma, not
everybody even believes in good and evil, God and the Devil. The
boy probably don’t even know Jesus Christ died for his sins.”
Deacon Moore, an increasing regular at the Hammond table, turned
his attention to Tak. “Do you know that, boy? Do you know that
Jesus died for your sins?”

“
Oh my God! If you don’t
shut the hell up!” Deena cried. “Will you all just shut the hell
up?”

“
This girl has lost her
damned mind,” Keisha whispered.

“
I knew she lost her mind
when she brought that Chinese boy around here like somebody ordered
wonton soup,” Caroline said.

Deena stood. “One more word.
One more word about him and as God is my witness I will come across
this table and—”

“
Deena,” Tak grabbed her
arm.

“
You’ll what? What are you
gonna do to my momma?” Keisha stood to meet her.

“
Bring it, Keisha,” Deena
said through gritted teeth. “You bring it and I’ll shove it down
your goddamned throat.”

Grandma Emma stood. “Sit
your ass down before I come cross this table! Anybody gone be
putting hands on somebody it’s gone be me laying holy hands on your
ass for bringing this Chinese boy round like dis.”

Deena and Grandma Emma
stood, staring at each other as Keisha lowered herself into her
chair. Around them, each Hammond gaped as Deena, still on her feet,
defied the will of their family’s matriarch. Never had it been done
so brazenly.

“
I don’t answer to you,”
Deena said. “Not anymore.” She turned to Tak. “We’re done
here.”

When Deena and Tak left, it
was with the belief that she’d been ejected from the fold. After
all, had not her grandparents turned their backs on their only son,
when he married her mother, a white woman? Had they not remained
steadfast in their contempt up until his death ten years later? So
it was with shock that Deena answered the phone when Grandma Emma
called weeks later and suggested they meet.

“
Can I get you something,
Grandma Emma?” Deena asked with a touch to the old woman’s
shoulder. Emma looked up from her work-worn and wrinkled
hands.

“
They got Sanka?” Grandma
Emma asked from her seat in the center of the Starbucks. Deena
sighed. Shaking her head, she made her way over to the counter, to
stand in the weaving line.

After ordering two cups of
venti decaf, Deena carried the sweltering brew to a corner table in
the eclectic coffee shop, where she gestured for her grandmother to
join her. While she told herself that she’d chosen the corner table
in regard for Grandma Emma’s hip and back concerns, she was aware
that it offered a semblance of privacy from the boisterous regulars
that crowded the café. The spot seemed detached from the rest of
the room.

“
Deena, you know I love
you. I love you more than anything. I raised you and your brother
and sister like you was my own. So when I tell you things it’s with
your best interest in mind.” Grandma Emma tapped her
temple.

“
I know you think so,”
Deena said carefully.

“
No. No. No. I do. I don’t
tell you things for my own benefits. Like this here I got to tell
you. For your own good.”

“
For my own good,” Deena
echoed distrustfully, her eyes trained on the wisps of steam
escaping the lid.

Grandma Emma looked up at
her, nodded, then leaned forward conspiratorially, her synthetic
wig shifting in the process.

“
You can’t marry that
Chinese boy.”

“
Japanese,” Deena
said.

“
Chinese. Japanese. Really,
when you gets downs to it, it’s the same thing,” Grandma Emma
said.

Deena stared at her.
“Alright. I’ll humor you. Why can’t I marry him?”

Grandma shook her head.
“Your whole family against it. Ain’t that mean nothing to
you?”

“
Not anymore,” Deena
murmured.

Grandma Emma stared back in
shock. “Look here, gal. Ain’t they got no black men whereabout you
could find?”

Deena’s patience evaporated.
“I don’t want a black man. I want him, Grandma. I love him. Weren’t
you the one who told me that if I found a man that I loved, that
treated me right, that I should hold on to him no matter
what?”

“
Chile, you takes my words
and you twists ‘em. You twists ‘em to suits you.”

Deena sighed. “You’re
impossible.”

Grandma Emma shifted in her
seat. “Look. It ain’t jus that he’s a Chinese. Listen. This what I
know. You two go hot tailing up out of here and get married both
your families gonna be upside down.” She waited for Deena to deny
this. When she didn’t, her lips curled into a satisfactory
smile.

“
I’m pretty sure his
peoples want him to stay with his peoples like we wants you to stay
with yours. That’s the first thing. Second is this. I mean let’s
just be real here. Y’all two get together and you bound to have a
funny looking child!”

Grandma Emma whooped with
laughter, clapping her hands all the while. Deena knew she couldn’t
wait to tell the ladies of the church how she just came right out
and told her what was what, right to her face.

“
See, people like you don’t
ever think about who you effecting, just yourself,” she said, eyes
suddenly narrowed with seriousness.

“
Well,” Deena said
carefully. “I could say the same thing about you.”

The women stared, a dark
silence passing between them.

Grandma Emma’s face
darkened. “Listen, I’m here cause I am a woman of God.”

“
And I’m not?” Deena
blurted.

“
No, now it ain’t that,”
Emma held up her hands, gesturing for Deena to calm down. Was she
the aggressor now? Deena wondered.

“
You was raised in the
church now and even though you got some ways about you like you
wasn’t, you still was.”

Deena began to massage her
temples. “I don’t follow you.”

“
Those people don’t believe
in Jesus Christ!” Emma shouted.

Deena nodded, tiredly,
conceding her point.

“
Uh huh. Deacon Moore says
they
Buddin
. And
that they pray to a fat Chinese man. Now who in they right mine
ever heard of a fat Chinese man being the son of God?”

Deena closed her eyes,
counted backwards from ten, and spoke. “Yes, lots of Japanese
people are Buddhist, Tak included. But I don’t see your point. In
fact, I think you need to learn to tolerate other people’s
differences.”

She regretted the words in
an instant.

“
What! Girl, Jesus Christ
died for your sins! He laid down and died for you! For you, Deena!”
Grandma banged her fist on the table for emphasis. “They nailed him
to a cross and—”

“
Grandma, calm down,” Deena
hissed, eyes darting in humiliation. “Calm down right
now!”

“
You think Jesus laid down
and died so you could marry a Buddin’?” Emma cried. “No! I don’t
think so!”

They’d drawn the attention
of the go-getters, the early morning suits who consumed both
caffeine and the morning’s headlines as if they needed both to
survive. Among them she spotted William Henderson, the wide-eyed,
pudding-faced investor in the Skylife project with whom she’d
traded barbs with on more than one occasion. He, like the other
onlookers, gawked at the unfolding debacle.

“
Grandma would you please
keep it down? People know me here, for Christ sake.”

“
No! Jesus Christ—” Grandma
Emma screamed.

Deena stood. The lively café
had fallen sinfully silent, despite the multitudes present. Aside
from her grandmother, all Deena could hear was whirring from the
refrigerated display case.

“
Grandma if you don’t shut
up right this second then I will consider this conversation over,”
Deena hissed.

Grandma Emma struggled to
her feet. With a single, hard glare she reeled back and smacked
her.

Deena’s lips parted in
disbelief. Tears filled her eyes as she brought a hand to her
stinging cheek. Despite the threats, despite the harsh words, it
had never been Grandma Emma who hit her. Never.

“
I won’t” Deena’s voice
broke. With the eyes of the café on her, she decided to salvage her
dignity by bringing their meeting to an end.

“
I won’t sit here and be
hit, Grandma. I don’t care how much I disappoint you. I will not
tolerate being hit.”

With a trembling hand, Deena
dug into her purse and retrieved a sheet of gold embossed
parchment. She held it out to her grandmother, who stared at it.
Deena cleared her throat and set it on the table.

“
My wedding is in six
weeks. The details are on the invitation. Come if you like. But as
of now, the matter is closed to discussion.”

CHAPTER
SIXTY-SIX

The day was hot even by
Miami standards. Nowhere was this more evident than in Daichi’s
attire, the most relaxed she’d ever seen him. He wore his standard
oxford, sleeves rolled up, first button undone, and paired it with
crisp Armani slacks, cuffed to avoid the ocean current. Beads of
sweat plastered hair to his forehead while next to him, Deena
walked in silence. At their backs, on the coastline, was Deena’s
architectural rendition of love—Skylife, completed and reaching for
the heavens. She had no idea where her next project would take her;
already she’d received the letter thanking her for her entry in the
City-Within-A-City competition. Unlike Daichi, she was not a
finalist.