The Graveyard Apartment Read Free Page B

by the fact that Teppei was married, but their mutual attraction (stoked by workplace propinquity) had simply been impossible to resist.
    Misao and Teppei had met at the advertising agency where they were both employed, and after Reiko died their coworkers began to say nasty things about the two of them, quite openly. Misao decided that the only remedy was for her to quit her job, so she resigned and became a freelance illustrator.
    At the time she had every intention of breaking things off with Teppei as well, but somehow they went on seeing each other. Evening after evening the two of them would huddle together in Misao’s tiny apartment and spend endless hours rehashing every detail of Reiko’s death. They knew it wasn’t healthy to keep going over the same things, but they also understood that while their psychic wounds would never heal if they kept reopening them again and again, retreating into silent denial would have been even less beneficial. There was no way to whitewash the harsh fact that their selfish, illicit actions had driven another human being to end her own life, and Misao and Teppei felt compelled to continue talking until they were able to accept that terrible truth, and forgive themselves, and move on. They were, in effect, equal co-conspirators who shared the burden of guilt, and neither of them wanted to take the easy path of pretending that nothing had happened, or that it hadn’t been their fault.
    And so they talked, and talked, and talked about the suicide of Teppei’s wife, to the point where they were sick and tired of the sound of their own voices, but instead of driving them to break up and go their separate ways, that painful process brought them closer. And then, finally, after all those long, dark nights, Misao had a major epiphany. She realized she and Teppei were meant to be together, for the long haul—marriage, children, the whole nine yards—and that was when she committed fully to their relationship, in her heart.
    Misao had just turned twenty-seven when she discovered she was pregnant. At that point Teppei was still living in the house he had shared with Reiko, but he moved out and came to live with Misao in her small, sunless apartment, bringing Reiko’s memorial tablet with him. They got married in a low-key civil ceremony, and the following year Tamao was born. And then …
    â€œHey, what’s for breakfast? I’m starving!” Teppei strode into the kitchen, wiping his damp hands on a towel. “I just finished putting up our nameplate next to the front door. Turns out, that’s hungry work!”
    â€œI’m afraid there’s only coffee and toast and fried eggs,” Misao said.
    â€œThat sounds perfect. Wait, it looks like Cookie went ahead and ate before the rest of the family.”
    â€œI made Cookie’s breakfast, all by myself!” Tamao announced proudly.
    Teppei smiled at her. “What a good girl!” he said.
    â€œWell, you know, I’m Cookie’s mother, so it’s my job,” Tamao explained.
    â€œYou don’t say.” Teppei’s grin grew broader. “Then I guess that means Mama and I are Cookie’s grandparents?”
    â€œThat’s right.” Tamao’s expression was still completely serious.
    Teppei slid his arm around Misao’s waist. “Hey, Grandma,” he said slyly.
    Misao laughed. “Are there really any grandmothers who look as good as this?” she asked with mock arrogance. “I mean, I don’t have a single wrinkle yet, and my bottom isn’t even a little bit saggy.”
    â€œOh, this bottom? Hang on, let me check,” Teppei said. The hand that had been encircling Misao’s waist inched slowly down, tickling her playfully through the cloth of the jeans she was wearing, until it came to rest on her rear end.
    â€œStop it, you! You’re going to make me spill the coffee!”
    â€œNow that you mention it,