Deena went to work preparing her coffee. A touch of milk, two spoons of sugar. "Every architect considers it a great honor to work with him. Myself included."

June rolled her eyes. "Yes, we've been told. By him."

Again with the giggles.

Deena shifted in her seat.

"You know," Asami said, bringing a fist to her chin. "You're not what we were expecting. Not at all."

"No?" Deena said.

Asami shook her head. "When my brother said he was bringing a colleague home, well, we thought..."

"A man?" Deena suggested.

"Well, yes. One that was older..."

"And whiter," June blurted, as if oblivious to her own whiteness..

Deena grinned. "Then I must really disappoint."

"On the contrary," Yukiko said, joining them at the table. "You're a breath of fresh air."

Deena smiled at her. She couldn't help it.

"So, tell us about yourself," Asami said as she stirred her tea. "Where are you from? Where are your parents from? How many brothers and sisters do you have?"

"Well," Deena began, "I'm from Miami, and so are my parents. And as for my siblings, I have two. A brother, who's dead, and a sister. Both younger."

"Your brother is deceased? My goodness, I'm sorry. That must've been terrible for you," Asami said.

"Was it a long time ago?" June asked.

"It doesn't matter how long ago it was, June. You never get over that sort of thing," Yukiko scolded.

Deena offered a sad smile. "I cope. It's been a few years now, so, I've learned ways of dealing."

"You must be so strong," June said. "I wilt at the slightest bad news."

"And she means it," Asami said. "She was inconsolable when they cancelled s.e.x in the City."

They all laughed, June included. And Deena wondered. When had she last sat with women and did something as simple and pure as laugh? Maybe never.

Asami stood and began clearing dishes. June rose to help her.

"You're so young," Yukiko said. "Your family must be awfully proud."

Deena lowered her gaze and said nothing. But when she looked up, she had their undivided attention.

"Anyone would be," Yukiko continued softly, as if sensing something just beneath the surface.

Deena sighed. Would you? She wanted to ask.

Wanted to, but didn't dare.

CHAPTER FIFTY.

They didn't work that first day, on Christmas Eve, or on the second, Christmas Day. Though there were no lights and mistletoe or none of the traditional trappings of a Christmas, there was still a decidedly festive atmosphere.

Deena spent the morning on the terrace chatting with the Tanaka women about nonsense matters like clothes and makeup, movies and celebrity gossip. Afterwards, June took her into the bathroom and demonstrated a few techniques for concealing her freckles.

The women marveled at how well Deena coped with being away from her family on Christmas Day. It was all she could do not to smile. Somehow, she didn't miss the shouting and fighting, or the cra.s.s and belligerent way the Hammonds celebrated the holidays.

That afternoon Daichi and Yoshi stood before the stainless steel gas grill with its six individual burners and watched the meat cook. Behind them, their children splashed in the pool and sunned on the deck. Deena stretched out on a lounge chair, her face in a book as Michael sat next to her with a smear of sun block on his nose.

"You know, Daichi; you should've gotten a charcoal grill. The food would taste better," Yoshi said.

Daichi prodded a skewer of chicken, onions and green peppers. "Charcoal masks the tastes of food. Propane provides a purer experience."

Yoshi scowled at him. "Dad used a charcoal grill for thirty years and you never complained."

"If you wanted your food from a charcoal grill, Yoshi, you should've brought one," Daichi said idly.

Yukiko arrived with a tray of seasoned chicken and Daichi added them to the grill. He basted half with barbecue sauce and the other half with sweet teriyaki.

"Where's the yakitori?" Yoshi demanded.

"There is no yakitori," Daichi snapped. "There are chicken b.r.e.a.s.t.s and wings, legs and thighs, beef and pork ribs, lamb chops and steak, hamburgers and hot dogs. Certainly even a man with an appet.i.te as robust as yours can be sated with this selection."

Yukiko's eyes narrowed. "Daichi..."

"Hmph. Well when did you start adding lamb chops to the menu?" Yoshi demanded. "Was that after you made the first or second million?"

Daichi sighed. "There are some of us with more discerning palates," he said carefully. "I am one and Ms. Hammond is another. But for you there are hot dogs."

"When we were kids hot dogs suited you just fine," Yoshi countered.

"Yes, and you enjoyed flying kites and playing baseball." Daichi lowered his gaze to his brother's stomach. "But clearly you've given that up."

"Daichi! You know that your brother struggles with his weight! You should support his efforts, not ridicule them."

Daichi closed the lid on the grill. "I'll be sure to do that, as soon as I witness them."

Yukiko sighed. "Daichi-"

"No, okasan, it's okay." Yoshi drew up to his full weight, turned to Daichi, his stomach round and solid looking beneath the tuck of his polo shirt. "Maybe I'm not some hot shot architect that people look up to. And maybe I'm not rich and fit and important. But I'd rather have people like me than fear me."

Daichi eyed him with amus.e.m.e.nt. "Then you're a fool."

Yoshi squared off, fists clenched. "This fool might not have your money, but he could teach you a thing or two about being a father."

Daichi nodded. "Foremost among fatherly duties is the ability to provide shelter for your brood. Take you, for example, Yoshi. You still find it necessary to rely on your mother for monetary a.s.sistance from time to time in this regard."

Yoshi turned to Yukiko, his face beet red. "You told him? You told him about the house?"

Yukiko looked from one son to the other with helplessness. "I had no choice. There was no one else that had that much money."

She'd called Daichi only once Yoshi faced imminent foreclosure.

"But you let me think it was from you."

"You wouldn't have taken it otherwise, Yoshi!"

Yoshi stormed past his mother, pride tarnished. There was now something else his brother could lord over him, a debt of $13,000 that could never be repaid.

With a sigh, Deena closed both her paperback and eyes. Clearly, Michael Tanaka would allow for no reading today.

"We should go dancing sometimes," Michael said. "I know you wouldn't think it, but I'm a great dancer. Not as good as my brother, mind you, but not many people are."

Deena lowered her shades. "John's a good dancer?"

She thought back to the nightclub in Manhattan and his spastic thrusts.

"Are you kidding me? When we were growing up John used to run with this group called...Explosion, I think it was." He shook his head. "They did all kinds of stuff. Like crazy, break dancing, break-your-neck kind of stuff. I mean, the guy was amazing. You show him anything and he can repeat it right back to you, just like that. It's insane."

Deena sat up. "John? John Tanaka?"

Michael scowled. "You know, you should really hang out with more Asians. You'll find that we're a lot more than the stereotypes people attach to us."

Deena nearly laughed. "I spend plenty of time with Asian people, thank-you-very-much."

Michael sat up. "So, you're not adverse to...dating one?"

Deena sighed. "Of course not."

"And do you think you could find an Asian guy attractive? s.e.xy, even?"

"The right one, yes."

He smiled. "That's good to hear."

It didn't seem to occurr to him that he might not be the right one.

Mike followed Deena's gaze to the pool, where Tak and John were midway through a game of water volleyball.

"I know you wouldn't think it," Michael said. "But I'm quite the athlete. As children, that was a sport I managed to dominate."

Deena had heard enough stories of Michael's childhood-sprains during tee-ball, nose bleeds in flag football and fractures during Frisbee, to recognize a lie when she saw one.

"Really, now?" she said dully.

"Oh, absolutely. Athleticism comes natural to me-a rarity when combined with my academic prowess," he said earnestly.

"Well, then. You shouldn't let me keep you from doing what comes naturally to you" Deena said, giving a nod towards the game.

Michael blinked. "Are you kidding me? Even the excitement of compet.i.tion pales in comparison to you."

His flattery nauseated her. Deena shifted and sighed in relief when she spied John climbing from the pool. He reached a towel, dried himself, and approached.

"Deena, let's walk."

"Walk where?" she said.

John raised a brow. "Does it matter?"

Already she was getting up.

"Daichi, your brother looks up to you. And your words effect him," Yukiko said, closing the patio door. "And too often, you're careless with them and his feelings."

"Okasan, if my words were important to him, he would not be a used car salesman with a wife and three children he can barely support," Daichi said with forced evenness. He glimpsed Yoshi just on the other side of the gla.s.s door, peering at the grilling meet. Daichi scowled.

"You're not being fair, Daichi. Yoshi did what he thought was best, given the circ.u.mstances. Both your father and I were proud of him for the tough decisions he's made."

Daichi stared at his mother. "I see."

"Musuko, don't say it like that."

"Like what?"

"Like nothing. Just try to treat your brother better."

Daichi nodded. "Fine. Are we done here?"

Yukiko sighed. "I suppose so."

"Good. Now please excuse me, mother. I have...culinary duties to attend to."

Forced indoors by the rain, Deena and the Tanakas took their meal and settled in at the dining room table. They drew her into their conversations effortlessly, interspersing talk of sports and food and travel destinations with questions about her. When Daichi presented her with a Christmas gift afterwards, she was grateful for Tak's warning that he might do just that. He gave Christmas presents to Christian colleagues, he said, as a matter of good business practice. It wasn't a far cry from Tak, who'd given her diamond studs that morning and insisted he wanted nothing in return. Still, Deena was glad that she'd taken the time to find a gift for Daichi.