Bridge of Scarlet Leaves. Kristina McMorris

“There’s something you don’t know. Something I should’ve told you before, but I wasn’t sure how.”

      Maddie blinked. What was he talking about? What had he been keeping from her?

      “It’s my parents,” he said. “They’ve arranged a marriage for me.”

      The word marriage entered her ears with a calmness that, in seconds, gained the piercing shock of a siren. “To whom?” she found herself asking.

      He scrunched his forehead, a revelation playing over his face. “I’m not sure, actually. The baishakunin—the matchmaker—found her in Japan. Tokyo, I think they said. Anyway, her family is supposed to be a good fit.”

      “I . . . didn’t realize . . . they still did that.” The response was ridiculous, trite. Yet the blow was too great to formulate anything better.

      “The custom is crazy, I know. But as their oldest son, their only son, it’s my responsibility to do what’s best for the family.” Annoyance projected in the timbre of his voice. He shook his head. “It’s no more than a business negotiation. Same as my parents were. And they want to bring her over right away.”

      A scrapbook materialized in Maddie’s mind: a portrait of Lane in a tuxedo, beside him a wife as exotic as her wedding garb; their children waving to the procession of a Chinese New Year parade; a snapshot of the family at Sunday supper, a foursome with identical almond eyes.

      “All of this,” he said finally, “is why I needed to see you.” He laid his hand on hers, a sympathetic gesture. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and there’s only one thing that makes sense for us.”

      The breeze blew a lock of her hair that caught in her eyelashes, a shield to hide her welling tears. She lowered her lids and waited for the words: to break up. She’d been foolish, so foolish to believe she could walk away unscathed.

      “Maddie,” she heard him say. “Will you marry me?”

      Once the question fully soaked in, her eyes shot open.

      “What?”

      He smiled. “Marry me.”

      She couldn’t answer. Her thoughts were a jumble of fragments. An orchestra of musicians, each playing a different piece.

      Lane brushed the strands from her face and tucked them behind her ear. He tipped his chin down, peering into her eyes. “The only way they’ll ever accept us is to not give them an option. Maddie, I love you. I want to see you every morning when I wake up, and fall asleep every night next to you. I want us to raise a family and spend our whole lives together. And if you feel the same”—he tenderly tightened his grasp on her hand—“then marry me.”

      Logic. She grappled for any shred of logic. “We can’t though. It’s—not even legal here.” A fact she’d known yet never liked to dwell upon.

      “Just the wedding isn’t. The marriage would be perfectly valid. A college friend of mine is from Seattle. He says interracial couples get married there every day.”

      “Seattle?”

      “That’s right,” he said. Then his smile faded into something tentative. “But sweetheart . . . we have to do it next weekend.”

      Next weekend? Next weekend?

      The very idea was rash, and insane. She tried to protest, yet her sentence amounted to a whisper. “That’s so soon.”

      “There’s no other choice. They plan to bring the girl’s family here before New Year’s. I don’t want to hurt other people, just because we’ve waited too long.” He caressed her cheek. “I know we’re meant to be together. Since the first time I kissed you, I’ve known it with everything in me.”

      The warmth of his fingers on her face revived the memory of that day. He’d been there when she came home from visiting her father, another one-sided exchange. Lane had been in town for the weekend, relaxing on their couch while TJ finished up at the ball field. She’d walked in to find a fresh envelope from the Juilliard School of Music. Even though she’d predicted their decision—a surety after her poor audition—reading the actual form rejection had struck her with a reality that ripped through the seams of her soul. The reality of lost dreams, a lost life she had taken for granted.

      Until then, she had been proud of how dignified she’d been about it all. The perfect portrayal of strength in the face of disaster. But with the weight of that letter in her hands, dignity became too much to carry. When her strength buckled, Lane was the person who’d caught her. She literally cried on his shoulder, soaked his shirt with pent-up grief. He held her close and safe, stroked her hair. And once their lips joined, more than passion flowed through her; it was the peace of finding someone whose heart felt tailor-made to match hers alone.

      Now, with Lane’s hand on her cheek, her skin melting into his palm, she felt the same overwhelming emotion. The family she’d been raised in was gone, but she and Lane could start a family of their own. The kind she’d always dreamed of. Together, they could be happy.

      “Yes,” she answered.

      “Yes?” A request for clarity.

      “Yes.” She smiled. “I’ll marry you.”

      Recognition settled in his eyes and a grin across his face. He jumped to his feet and drew her up into his arms. Their hearts were pumping at the same rapid pace. “Oh, Maddie, I love you so much,” he said against her temple.

      “I love you too,” she whispered. She had conveyed the sentiment plenty of times, on notes she’d snuck into his pockets, or in letters she’d mailed to Stanford. Yet only now did she become aware of how much she meant the words.

      He leaned back and gazed at her, his eyes glinting with joy. Then he placed his curled fingers under her chin to bring her in for a kiss. Their mouths were a few inches apart when a voice cracked through the moment.

      “On

san,” Emma yelled. “I found one!”

      In an instant, they stood a respectable distance apart, though Maddie couldn’t say who had created the gap. How could she have forgotten where they were? That Emma, too, could have been watching?

      “Look!” The girl ran toward them, holding up something round and white. “It’s a whole sand dollar. And it’s not broken or chipped or anything. It’s a sign of good luck, right?”

      Lane gave Maddie a brief glance and grinned again. “Definitely.”

      “Did you know there’s five doves inside?” Emma asked Maddie. “And the North Star is in the middle, and an Easter lily’s around it?”

      Unable to speak, Maddie nodded.

      “Wow.” Emma studied the shell. “I can’t wait to show Papa. He’s gonna love it. Can we go home and show him? Can we?”

      Lane looked at his watch, then sighed. “I guess we’d better go. My train . . .”

      “Of course,” Maddie said, regaining her voice.

      He turned to his sister. “Hey, Em. Race you to the snack stand?” He didn’t have to ask twice. She automatically assumed a runner’s starting pose. “Ready?” he called out. “Set . . . go!”

      Unlike Emma, Lane didn’t dash away. He stepped back toward Maddie and, picking up from where he left off, he leaned in and placed his lips on hers. Although she closed her eyes, she saw a vision of strangers walking past, pointing, whispering their disapproval. And when the kiss ended, she couldn’t help feeling relieved.

      “See you next Saturday?” he asked.

      She prodded herself to nod.

      “You promise?”

      “Cross my heart,” she said lightly, pushing out a smile.

      He