Junri sits up with a start and continues to scold her aunt for saying such things. Her left index finger continues to stroke the ring on her hand.
I don’t know what they’re saying once they start going nuts in Japanese, but Fujiko puts out a reassuring hand that says she’s joking, and Junri looks irate enough to leave. Too bad. She and my boyfriend would make a cute couple. You know, if he weren’t in bed with me for the rest of his life already.
“He’s so handsome! He’s even right around that age for me to date.”
“Auntie!”
I laugh. It doesn’t bother me to hear other women talk about Ian like this. I’d only get jealous if he were flirting back with the fires of intention burning behind his stupid hazel eyes. Then the claws come out and he can bet most women wouldn’t find that nice face of his too attractive anymore.
I kid. A little.
“I’m thinking I should date an American businessman to settle down. I’m getting to an age where I should start considering that.” Is that sarcasm? Because Fujiko has to be in her early sixties. At the youngest. “When I retire, I want a capable man who will woo me like a woman of my standing deserves.” She shrugs, and that is that.
“Even if I did not have my own money, Ian would be more than enough to get me through the rest of my life.” I should hope so. The fucker’s a billionaire and not one to squander the money, the occasional bad investment aside. “We’re perfect for each other.”
“Do you get married? Oh, oh, invite me! I want to meet American businessmen and get this ball rolling, as you say.”
Both women look at me, waiting for an answer. Even Ms. Junri has been wondering about my marital status.
I’m gonna need even more booze for this shit.
Once I’m properly lubed up, I give them a brief rundown of what’s going on in my love life. Why not? I’m technically drunk now, and it’s not like they can’t find this shit online by tracking down fanblogs that are really, really into Ian and me as a couple. Seriously. They’re creepy, but in that rather harmless sort of way. (I hope.)
“We don’t have plans to get married yet,” I say. “We’ve talked about it, but…”
They both lean forward. “But?”
“I’m not really the marrying type.”
Fujiko leans back in her seat. “Naruhodo!” she exclaims, whatever that means. Her thumb jerks against her chest. “Same! No marriage for me.” She reaches over and pats her niece’s knee. “Her too. One time she was engaged to a hot man. Then she dumped him.”
Junri’s cheeks are red. Red. “Don’t go telling people that…”
“It’s true. If you met her fiancé, you would think she’s crazy for dumping him.”
I can tell from the further furrowing of Junri’s brows that she doesn’t find it crazy. Awkward. Even more awkward when she snaps something at her honorable aunt in Japanese. These two are either drunker than they look, or they are so close they can get away with speaking so informally to one another.
“We all have our reasons for turning down proposals.” How many times has Ian proposed to me now? He finally stopped after I told him I’d bring it up when I was ready to seriously discuss putting some plans into motion. We’re in engagement limbo. In my mind we’re basically engaged, but making a formal announcement would tear my world apart, and I’m not ready for that yet. My own best friend barely knows what I’m getting up to in that regard. I’m not going to tell some strangers I met on the other side of the world. Even if they keep it to themselves, that’s two more people out there who know my innermost fears.
No thanks.
“Don’t I know! I’ve been proposed to many times.” Fujiko nods sagely. Junri looks like she wants nothing to do with this conversation. “When I was a girl, it was because of my family. Many suitors came, and my parents wanted me to marry half of them. Yet if I married to boost the family’s capital and image, I wouldn’t be allowed to work. I wanted to work! I could do better helping my family’s company succeed from the inside instead of marrying some incompetent man from Tokyo.”
“I was also offered many proposals when I was growing up.” It happens to every heiress of a large fortune. We’re doomed to be nothing more than trophies to half of the elite families in the world. “It felt like such a waste of my time. Luckily, my family didn’t care about them either.” Crazy to think of my parents as liberal in that regard. But my mother was so jaded by the time I was old enough for her to receive proposals on my behalf, and my father detested the thought of his virginal daughter (ahahaha) being in the arms of some playboy (ahahahaha!) I’ll point out that Daddy’s fears were the ones that came true. Ian was the king of playboys before he stuck it in me over two years ago. He’s been drunk on my cunt since, bless him.