The Scent of Sake (6 page)

After her experience of the wedding night, Rie had shuddered at the thought of a repetition, but knew there was no choice if she were to fulfill her major obligation and produce an heir for the house. For many nights over the next weeks and months she forced herself to succumb to Jihei’s drunken groping and thrusting, wishing it were Saburo instead of this horrid man who disgusted her. She imagined Saburo soft, tender, those intense

28
oyce Lebra

brown eyes watching hers . . . unlike Jihei, who didn’t seem to notice whether or not she responded, caring only for himself. Rie wondered how other women felt, endured, to produce an heir, but she had no sisters to enlighten her. Each time Jihei touched her, she closed her eyes and forced back tears as she imagined herself in a faraway place. When she extricated herself, she slipped down the stairs, along the dark corridor and into the o-furo room, where she washed herself vigorously, then stopped in the outer office to sit and breathe deeply, glancing at the White Tiger logo on a barrel. This became her regular ablution ritual. Thus she kept her spirit intact and enabled herself to survive the distasteful nighttime ventures.

One night as Rie was dressing and washing herself she heard slippers slapping toward the
o-furo
room. The shoji opened and her mother stood there.

“Ri-chan, are you all right?” her mother asked, frowning. “Yes, Mother, I’m just washing.”

Her mother stepped into the dressing room and looked at her hesitantly before speaking. “We know you are trying to do your duty, dear. And, well . . . your father and I appreciate it. It will be so important for the house.”

“I know,” Rie murmured softly, yet feeling a tightness in her chest as she thought of what it was costing her.

“Sleep well, dear,” her mother said, bowing slightly as she left. So long as her parents understood, Rie would continue, would endure, until she became pregnant. She prayed it would happen soon, that she would be relieved of the unpleasant but pressing duty. In the meantime, she would continue to think of Saburo.

No one could control her feeling for him.

One morning a few months following the wedding Rie did not feel her normal self. She lingered in her room later than usual.

The Scent
of
Sake 29

Jihei had already gone downstairs. She heard O-Natsu’s voice outside the shoji.

“Good morning. May I come in?” “Yes, O-Natsu.”

O-Natsu stepped in with a tea tray, which she set down on the tatami in front of Rie. “You did not come to breakfast, so I wondered, are you all right?”

“There may be something wrong. I don’t feel like eating.”

O-Natsu paused and glanced at Rie’s eyes, a sign of pregnancy, so the midwives had told her. “I wonder, could you be pregnant?”

“Oh, I thought of that, O-Natsu. I skipped the last two months.” She had kept that to herself, until she was sure. Today she
knew
. She smiled for O-Natsu’s benefit.

“Shall I call your mother?”

“I guess so, thank you.”

“Meanwhile, try to sip some tea. I’ll bring up some rice gruel.” Rie nodded, unenthusiastically. She picked up a teacup, then set it down. If she really were pregnant, she would have succeeded in her duty to the house. Her parents would be delighted. She would be relieved of further responsibility toward Jihei at night. Why did she not feel happy, then? She heard steps on the stairs, and her mother and O-Natsu entered. O-Natsu set a tray

with a bowl of rice gruel and chopsticks in front of Rie.

Hana sat on the zabuton next to the hibachi and looked intently into Rie’s face. “How do you feel, dear? I know you have missed a month, or is it two? And O-Natsu tells me your eyes indicate pregnancy. Let me see.” Her mother gazed at her intently. “Can you eat some rice gruel?”

Rie looked down at the food and put a hand on her stomach. “I don’t really feel like eating, Mother.”

“I know, dear, but you must eat. I’ll send O-Natsu to the old herbalist to get something for you.”

30
oyce Lebra

There was no doubt that Rie was pregnant. That evening Rie and her mother joined Kinzaemon and Jihei around the table. It was Hana’s prerogative to make the announcement to her husband and Jihei.

Hana put down her chopsticks and straightened. “We have an important announcement for the future of the house.” She paused and looked from Kinzaemon to Jihei, then she continued. “Rie is going to have a child, an heir for the house.”

Rie excitedly awaited her father’s reaction.

Kinzaemon smiled broadly. “That’s wonderful, Rie. A most important child. And you must be especially careful of your health now.”

She smiled back.

“Yes, Father. I have always been quite healthy.” Rie knew her father would hope for a boy, but she herself would welcome a girl.

“I have sent O-Natsu for some powders from the herbalist, the same ones I used,” Hana said.

Jihei nodded but said nothing, Rie noted. He pulled at his eyebrows and reached for a sake flask. Jihei rarely had anything to say or reacted to what she did or said.

In succeeding days Rie noticed that her father spoke less about Yamaguchi, and the depression that had lowered his spirit seemed to have lifted. His step became sprightlier, and there was a general air of well-being in the household. O-Natsu and Rie’s mother were continuously solicitous of Rie, and her mother cautioned her to slow down, to leave more responsibilities to others.

Hana purchased several sets of clothing and wrappers for the baby. She insisted on sewing tiny kimonos of her favorite cotton patterns. One afternoon she took out some baby clothes she had saved from her own son who had died. She fingered them lovingly as she showed them to Rie. Rie smiled and nodded, touching the clothes. Her beloved Toichi. How she missed him

The Scent
of
Sake 31

still. And now the clothes reminded her of her duty—her duty that she was fulfilling.

Late one afternoon three months later, Rie felt a gripping pain in her abdomen. She hurried to the lavatory, feeling weak and perspiring heavily. O-Natsu saw her hurrying to the lavatory and followed her. Rie opened the shoji quickly and stepped inside, squatting over the hole in the floor. A sharp pain stabbed at her. She huddled over and felt something slipping out and heard a splash below.
No,
she screamed silently.
No! No!
She looked down and saw that her legs were covered with blood. She could not stifle an anguished wail. She stood weakly, her hand clutching the wall for support. The shoji opened, and O-Natsu stepped in with towels and rags, which she handed to Rie.

“I’ve lost the heir,” she moaned. “I’ve failed the house.”

Gloom pervaded the house following the loss of Rie’s baby. Her father and mother tried to be sympathetic toward Rie, but they were also depressed. O-Natsu tried to cheer Rie, but she could not be consoled. Jihei, as usual, had nothing to say about the loss of the heir.

One night as Rie was preparing for bed she wondered where Jihei was, hoping to avoid him somehow. He was nowhere to be found, nor did he return that night until long after Rie was asleep. She was relieved, but still wondered. Where was he? Two nights later the same thing happened.

Rie tried to broach the subject indirectly one day when they were alone upstairs. Jihei shifted uneasily and tugged at his ear as she spoke.

“You remember I mentioned when you came into the house that Father has not been as active as he was, because of his health. Perhaps you should spend more time here in the evening, get a firmer grasp of the financial side.” She tapped her fan against her

The Scent
of
Sake 33

shoulder and glanced at Jihei, who was turning his teacup around in his hands, admiring it closely.

“This is a fine cup. Is it old Shino?” he asked.

Rie frowned, ignoring his question. “I think Kin would like to see you in the office more, in the evening. You know he spends long hours here.”

Jihei sighed. “Yes, he never seems to stop. Well, you know, between you and Father and Kin, it seems everything gets decided. I sometimes wonder where I fit in, where I should focus my attention.” He twirled his eyebrows. “Of course I work here every day with Father and Kin.”

How lazy he was! She wouldn’t mind twirling
him
by those eyebrows. “A brewer’s work is never done, day or night. That’s what Mother always says. Father hasn’t said anything to Mother or me about retiring, but I can see him slowing down. We don’t know when he’ll decide the time has come to step down. It’s a big decision. But when he does you’ll have final authority in everything. You want to be prepared to take charge. Father felt you had the experience for it, coming from the Okamoto House.”

Jihei put down his cup. “Of course we were never this big. But I feel I’m as much a brewer as anyone, after so many generations.” He smiled tentatively at Rie.

Rie put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from cackling. Did he really believe that? “Yes, of course we all do. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t surrounded by barrels or inhaling anything but the smell of yeast. And the sound of the kurabito singing in the kura has always given me a sense of well-being. So then you understand, don’t you?”

Jihei bowed slightly and murmured in response to Rie’s spoken and unspoken questions.

Late that night Rie lay alone on her futon. She had left the shutters open because she enjoyed watching the moonlight filter into the room, casting mysterious shadows from carvings on the

34
oyce Lebra

lintel above onto the sliding screens. She listened to the haunting flute of the blind masseuse who walked by each night at the hour of the boar. The fire watcher went by too, clacking his wooden sticks together to warn residents to be careful to put out their stoves and lamps before they went to sleep.

It was, she supposed, too much to expect that she would have strong feelings for Jihei, or he for her. Rie turned and moved out of her futon. She realized she felt no fondness for her husband, none at all. She went to the open window and looked out into the stone and gravel garden, gray stones on gray pebbles, gleaming in the moonlight. She gazed at the full moon, and looked at the shadows that ghosted through the garden. No sound broke the stillness. She moved her hand over her face.