Back home, Amaya and Kevin lay in bed. The air conditioner was clearly over-matched, and the window was cracked open to at least circulate a breeze. Kevin mercifully rubbed her back which was sore from the car ride. With his other hand, he stroked her hair.
“You know, my father is your biggest admirer,” he said. “You could ask him for the moon and stars, and he would try to give them to you.”
She loved the softness of his breath against her neck. “I love them,” she said.
“Even my mother?”
She giggled. “Well, I’m trying to understand her. I would like to think we respect each other.”
“I know how much you miss your parents,” he whispered.
“Yes, I miss them very much.”
“We’ll get back to see them, I promise.”
She began to cry. “When? It will certainly be a very long time. Long after the correct time for the naming festival.”
“Do you think they will be pleased when we name the baby Nois?” he asked.
She turned around to face him. “Really? You would agree to name her that?”
He kissed her nose. “Sure, why not. It is wonderful name with a nice Japanese sound to it.”
“But what about your mother? Won’t she object?”
“She’ll get used to it, especially when we christen the baby’s middle name after her.”
“Your mother’s name is Mildred. We’re going to name the baby Nois Mildred Littleton? How will our daughter contend with that?”
Kevin laughed. “No one said life was easy.”
They fell asleep in each other’s arms. Shortly after midnight, Amaya jolted awake. She thought she had heard a noise, but everything was quiet.
Perhaps the baby was kicking. It wouldn’t be the first time she had been awakened by her daughter’s sudden movements. She rubbed her stomach. No, the baby was quiet.
She heard the sound again. It was thunder. Not loud, but the low humming sound that it makes when it is far off, getting set to approach.
Then a new sound, easily recognizable, fat, plopping raindrops against the window.
She heard each drop. Perhaps somewhere they would turn into a steady, nourishing rain. Perhaps the welcome water would head east, out from Urbana towards Indiana. Perhaps the Ancestor Gods really did not care about the difference between Hana Taue and the Blessings for the New Year.
About Richard Luftig
