And at the end of June, the Spencers moved to Lake Tahoe for the summer. At first they planned to leave her in town, and then they asked her to join them at their house on the lake, and as she thought of it, she realized it would be wonderful for Toyo.
Anne graduated from St. Andrew's just before they went, and Hiroko thought about her with a smile that morning. She had hardly seen her in months. She had rarely come home from school on weekends. Most of the time she either went away, or stayed for dances. And during holidays, she went to Santa Barbara or Palm Springs, or to New York to see her sister, who had had another baby. But whenever Hiroko did see Anne, though it was rare, she was always pleasant. They had an odd relationship, it was not friendship, and yet they both recognized that there was a bond between them.
And in Lake Tahoe, she was always surrounded by friends who came up to visit, especially for the weekend. They stayed with them, water-skied, played tennis, rode one of several speedboats. The others had had to be put away, as they needed their gas ration coupons for the drive back and forth to Tahoe.
It reminded Hiroko of when she had come to the lake with the Tanakas when she had first come from Japan. It had been four years, four years of war and agony throughout the world. And yet, here people were still playing tennis and driving speedboats. It was an odd feeling, watching them, and yet their giving up tennis or boats or having fun wouldn't have ended the war either.
Toyo particularly loved being there, and just as they were in town, the servants were extremely kind to him. And in Tahoe, Hiroko frequently served dinner, particularly when they had guests or dinner parties. And one night, one of the Spencers' guests asked how they had managed to keep her, indicating Hiroko.
“All ours went to Topaz, you know. Damn shame. Best servants we've ever had. What did you do, Charles?” He joked with him, but Charles did not look amused. “Did you hide her?”
“I believe she was in Tule Lake,” Charles Spencer said stiffly. “She only came to us in January of this year. As I understand it, she went through a lot there.” His words and his expression silenced the other man completely. But there were others who stared at her, who watched her, and who didn't hesitate to make comments.
“I don't know how you can keep her here, and eat dinner with her standing behind you,” one of Margaret's friends said one day at lunch in Lake Tahoe. “When you think of what those people are doing to our boys over there, it ruins my appetite. Margaret, you must have a very strong stomach.” Margaret Spencer did not respond, but as she glanced in Hiroko's direction, their eyes met, and then Hiroko quickly lowered hers. She had heard it all, and she understood. She had done penance to please people like her. In some ways, the Spencers were different from their friends. They had been appalled by the camps, and saddened when their employees had been sent away for internment. But there had been absolutely no way to stop it.
And at a dinner party, a friend of Charles had left their dinner table, because he had lost a son at Okinawa and he refused to be served by Hiroko. Hiroko had gone to her room quietly after that, and the Spencers let her go for her own sake. She had her own losses to think of too, Yuji, Ken, Peter, Tak. So many had been lost, there was so much sorrow and pain that needed to be healed now.
But in August, while the Allies divided up the Reich, the Americans finally got even at Hiroshima. It made everyone who had ever hated the Japanese, even for a single moment, feel vindicated, and yet again after the bombing at Nagasaki. At last, the war was over. And exactly four weeks later, the Japanese surrendered over Labor Day weekend. It was the Spencers' last weekend at Lake Tahoe before moving back to the city.
“What are you going to do now?” Anne asked her quietly. They were alone in the dining room the next morning.
“I'd like to go home when I can.”
“I don't suppose things will settle down there for a while.” Anne nodded at her, and Hiroko looked tired. She had been following the news for weeks. She was desperately worried about her parents. It seemed hard to believe anyone could have survived the endless bombings. And yet obviously some people had. She only prayed her parents were among them. And still there was no news from Peter. But she couldn't go in both directions. And she would have had no idea of how to find him in Europe.
“Your family has been very good to me,” Hiroko said before she left the room again, not wanting to intrude on Anne's breakfast.
“You've been good to us too.” She smiled at her. “How's Toyo?”
“Getting big and fat in the kitchen,” Hiroko laughed. He was making up for lost time and a lot of bad food at Tule Lake. He was two and a half years old, and the darling of everyone in the Spencers' household.