It took another month of soul-searching and arguments, but eventually Hidemi conceded. One year, or more if Hiroko truly loved it, but she only had to go to San Francisco for a year. And Takeo had gotten her into a small but academically excellent women's college in Berkeley called St. Andrew's, and Masao swore she would be safe there. It was a long time to be away, but Hidemi had to agree, though grudgingly, that it was an exciting opportunity for her—though why women had to go to university, and one that far away, was beyond her. She never had, and she had had a wonderful life with her husband and children.
Even Yuji thought it was a great idea, and he could hardly wait for the following year, when he was hoping to apply to Stanford. But in the meantime, he thought his sister was really lucky to be going to California. The only one who didn't share his enthusiasm, other than Hidemi, was Hiroko.
“Aren't you pleased your mother agreed?” Masao asked her confidently, thrilled with his victory when Hidemi finally capitulated and agreed to let Hiroko go to San Francisco. It had been a year-long battle. But Hiroko was silent and hesitant, though she assured him that she was very grateful She looked like a little doll, with tiny features and graceful limbs. She was even lovelier and more delicate than her mother. But she was also even shyer than her mother had been, and unlike her father, with all his forward ideas, Hiroko was naturally old-fashioned. She took great comfort in it, and had a genuine fondness for all the old ways and traditions. Her grandmother had given her a deep respect for them, but beyond that she was just very comfortable with domestic pursuits and the most ancient of traditions. She was traditional Japanese to her very core, far more so than even her mother. Over the years, Hidemi had developed a deep respect for a number of Masao's modern concepts. But Hiroko showed no interest in any of them. She was just a very old-fashioned girl, and the last thing she wanted was to spend a year in California. She was only doing it to please her father. And it seemed a terribly high price to pay to show her respect for him, but she would never have defied him.
“Aren't you excited?” he asked again, and she nodded, trying to look enthused, but failing. And as he looked at her, his heart sank. He know his daughter well, and loved her deeply, and he would rather have died than make her unhappy. “Don't you want to go, Hiroko?” he asked sadly. “You can be honest with me. We're not trying to punish you. We want to do something important for your future.” It was also a considerable financial drain on them, with his professor's salary, but they really felt it was a worthwhile sacrifice to make for their children.
“I …” She struggled with the fear of being disobedient to him, as she lowered her eyes and battled her emotions. She loved them so much, and her brother too, that she hated to leave them. “I don't want to leave you,” she said with big eyes filled with tears. “America is so far away. Why can't I just go to Tokyo?” She raised her eyes to his, and he almost cried as he saw them.
“Because you will learn nothing there you can't learn here. In fact, it is better for you here than in the big city. But America …” he said, his own eyes filled with dreams. He had never been there, but he had wanted to go all his life. For twenty years he had read his cousin Takeo's letters and wished he could have been there. Now it was a gift he wanted to give his children, the ultimate gift, the only one he would have wanted. “You only have to go for a year, Hiroko. One school year. That's all. If you hate it, you can come back here. A year isn't such a long time. You can do that. And maybe you'll like it. Yuji might even be there your second year, if you stay. You'd be together.”
“But you wouldn't be there … or Mama…. What would I do without you?” she asked as her eyes filled and her lip trembled, and she lowered her eyes in respect for him, and he came to put his arms around her, always startled by how slight she was. She was barely an armful.
“We'll miss you too, but we'll write to you, and you'll have Uncle Tak and Aunt Reiko.”
“But I don't know them.”
“They're wonderful people.” Takeo had come back for a visit nine years before, but Hiroko scarcely remembered him, and Aunt Reiko hadn't been able to make it, because she was expecting their last little girl, Tamiko. “You'll love them, and I know they'll take care of you like one of their own. Please, Hiroko, please give it a chance. I don't want you to be deprived of this opportunity.” He had saved for years for it, and it had taken him almost as long to convince his wife, and now Hiroko made him feel like he was punishing her, and he wanted this so much for her. If only she would do it.