How to Be an American Housewife - Margaret Dilloway [45]
I pleaded with her. “You must.”
I felt weak, like crying. I hadn’t cried in years.
“What about Mike?” Sue stared at the floor.
This truth spilled bitterly. “Mike no can clean bathroom, how he gonna find Taro?”
Sue twisted her lips. She knew I was right.
Charlie came in and added his disagreements. “You’re not talking about Japan again, are you?”
“You know about this?” Sue looked from him to me.
“Shoko, you can’t go,” Charlie said to me.
“She wants me to go, Dad.” Sue shook her head. “Mom, you were going to go and do this?”
“Why not? I from Japan. I know way around.”
Sue considered me carefully, that same studying look she had used since she was a newborn and always had her eyes locked on me. Wondering if I would disappear, I thought.
Helena spooned ice cream into her mouth. “I want to go, too! Someone else can take my part in the play. They can assign me work. Let me go!”
This broke Sue down. She had a hard time saying no to her daughter.
“Good experience for Helena, yeah?” I said hopefully.
Sue exhaled, blowing stray strands of her hair up. “I don’t know, Mom. How do we know how to find Taro?”
“I have address of your cousin Yasuo. Suki son. He teach same school. He know where find Taro.” I regarded my granddaughter. “She smart one, help you.”
Charlie came over to me. “Sue can’t go alone. It’s too dangerous for women.”
Charlie thought I couldn’t tie my own shoe without his help. More dangerous than leaving a Japanese woman alone in America in the 1950s? I wanted to shout. Sue was not a little girl. I shot him an angry look. He took a step back. “Before I go, I make peace with Taro. You know this important. My family. I no can die without.”
“No one’s going to die, Shoko.” Charlie moved toward me. “You’re going to be fine and there’s no reason for all this fuss. Besides, who’s going to pay?”
“Me! Us. Who else?”
Charlie grumbled incoherently at this. I watched my daughter. The moment was slipping before I could grasp it. Please, Sue. Show me your spunk.
When she was in kindergarten, she got mad one day on the walk home and ran away from me, across a busy street alone. She knew I could not follow. I watched, helpless. But she looked both ways. She was all right.
I would not beg. I had presented my case to her. Now if she didn’t want to go, there was nothing I could do except mail my letter to my brother and hope it reached him, somehow.
“I’ll go. We’ll go.” Sue’s voice came out of a dream. Helena squealed. “I’ll find Taro for you.” She bowed her head at me, looking almost regal.
I clapped her hands, grinning. “No worry. We figure out.” I held my arms out to her, hoping she would return the embrace. “I feel like I go, too. So happy.”
If you married an American, it is likely you married a Christian. Most holidays in the United States are Christian: Christmas and Easter being the major ones. In general, these are times of good cheer and celebration. See the HOLIDAY section for recipes and details on decorating the house during these times.
For the sake of harmony, it is imperative that the good Housewife become a Christian as well. Japanese women should forget about their Buddhist or Shinto upbringing—these ways are not American ways. You will not be able to find people to worship with you. If you continue to insist on praying to Buddha statues, you will cause your husband to abandon you.
—from the chapter “Turning American,”
How to Be an American Housewife
Thirteen
During the next week and a half, I slept better than I had in months, though my heart was weaker. I watched Sue making travel arrangements as though I were the one doing it.
The day after the girls left, Charlie took me to the lab to get blood work done. At the Naval Hospital, you always expect