The Gatekeeper's Son (29 page)

She stared at me silently, her stance unchanged.

“We’ve got to work this through,” I said, “not just for Dad’s sake but for ours.” My voiced cracked. “You’re still my mom, right?”

She buried her face against my chest and hugged me so hard I thought I’d break. We were both crying. When she finally pulled back, she wiped her nose and let out a giggle. “I think you’ll need to change your shirt.”

I looked down at my chest. “Yuck.”

She sniffed. “What happened on the other side is a part of your life. It’s not the end or the beginning, no more than any new day is. Shoko will help you, but I will make sure you always have a home, as long as I can.” Then she smiled and patted the knife under her skirt. “And no matter what the Elders said, I’m uniquely qualified to support you.”

On the ride to the hospital, the driver told us what he knew, but it wasn’t much. Grandpa had had a heart attack while he was asleep, and the paramedics had to do CPR on the way to UCFS Medical Center—one of the best hospitals in the city, he said. If he’d meant to make me feel better, it didn’t help. I didn’t want my last memory of Grandpa to be that night in our backyard.

“Looks like we’ve picked up a tail,” the driver muttered, his eyes on the rearview mirror. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “They know where we’re going.”

Dad met us outside the hospital entrance. Clearly tired and grumpy, he looked like hell. His hair was disheveled, his face a mass of brown stubble, and his clothes had that slept-in look. When he saw Okaasan, he looked as confused as I’d been when I first saw her outfit. She didn’t smile at him. In the car, I’d felt her slip into a dark place. She was afraid—her secret was out. She looked guilty and distant.

All Dad saw was that his wife had changed. I felt the shifting of his thoughts: shock, suspicion, then sadness. I felt him start to deflate. She’d been away, back in her hometown, and had come back cold and distant—and dressed like a single woman.

“Misako?”

Okaasan must have felt it, too. Her head came up and she burst into tears, her hands reaching out for him.

“Robert,” she whispered as she clung to him. “I love you so much.”

They hugged for a long time. When they finally broke the embrace, Dad offered me a weak smile and he and Okaasan walked into the hospital holding hands.

Grandpa’s people had taken over the area outside the cardiac-care unit, turning the place into a noisy mass of activity. An overweight nurse was yelling at a reporter to get out of the hallway. Two tough-looking men in suits stepped forward and assisted in the reporter’s departure. Everyone looked a lot more serious than the last time we were here.

I felt a slight tingle in my neck as I looked around. I got a few dirty looks and saw one guy tap the sleeve of another man and point at me.

When Dad led us into the room, the only part of Grandpa I could see was his arm, pale and wrinkled. Machines surrounded him, and the heart monitor steadily ticked off the beats.

Lin was sitting near the bed, a tissue in her hand. I’d only ever seen her neat and impeccable, but now she looked exhausted, wrung out. She wore no makeup, her long hair was a mess, and she wore an oversize jacket—obviously one of Grandpa’s—which she’d pulled tight around herself. She looked dazed, but when she saw us she stood up.

“Excuse me,” she whispered as she walked toward the door.

My dad moved aside, but I grabbed her arm.

“You belong here, too, Lin.”

She glanced at my parents, unsure what to do. Then she walked back and stood out of the way near the window.

I could see more of Grandpa now, and it wasn’t encouraging. Wires and tubes stuck out everywhere, and the skin on his pale face sagged.

“Is he going to be OK?” I asked my dad.

“If anyone can survive, he can.”

“Were you with him?” I asked Lin.

Dad shot me a look. “That’s none of your business.”

“Yes,” she said in a low voice. “He was like this when I woke up.” She looked out the window and wrapped her arms around herself. “His body felt so cold,” she whispered. “I thought he was dead.”

Dad cleared his throat. “He’s got the best doctors looking after him.”

“Can I touch him?” I asked the nurse who was changing his IV.

“For a minute.” She was calm, professional, just going through a routine. “It’s getting a little crowded in here. Make it quick.”

My eyes met hers and she took a step back. I wedged myself between the machines and took Grandpa’s hand. It was still far bigger than mine, but so cold and pale. I didn’t feel anything from him—no energy, no warmth, nothing. How could a person so energetic and robust, with such a huge personality, end up like this?

I let my breath out. “Come back to us, Grandpa,” I said as my eyes slid closed. “Get better and come back to us. We need you here.”

There was an explosion of electronic beeps and alarms.

My eyes popped open. The monitors in the room were going crazy, computer screens flickering with horizontal static. A moment later, alarms in the hallway began to ring. I dropped his hand, terrified that he was dying right in front of me. My dad swore and Lin jumped toward the bed, her hand on her mouth.

Okaasan had her hands on her temples.

“What the hell?” the nurse yelled. A moment later, the alarms silenced as the machines began resetting themselves.

“You people need to get out of here!”

I backed away from the bed and faced her. “I want you to give him the best care you’ve ever given anyone in your career.”

As I turned to go, the alarms went off again.

In the hallway, Okaasan came up beside me. She looked pale and depressed. I took her by the arm and led her to a corner.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her in a whisper.

She stared at the floor. “My life was perfect. But the way you reacted …” She looked up at me. “When he finds out … he’ll leave me.”

I grabbed her shoulders. “Okaasan, you said you fell in love with him the moment you saw him. Who cares why you were there? It wasn’t a lie—your intentions were pure.” As I said it, I knew I believed it.

“Right,” she whispered. I saw no hope in her eyes.

I glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “Look, you said there was no need to tell me anything, because none of this was supposed to happen, right?”

She nodded.

“Well, you’re right.” I gave her my best smile. “Dad’s crazy about you. He’s one of the happiest married men I know. It serves no purpose to tell him. Let him be happy.”

When I walked away, I saw Dad watching us. I gave him a weak smile as I passed by. He reached out and touched my shoulder.

“Did something bad happen in Japan?” He cleared his throat. “I mean … worse than what happened here?”

“Going home … It wasn’t what she expected,” I said. “I think her family was really hard on her. You should give her another hug.”

He stared at me. Then he ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re getting to be a lot like your mother, you know that?”

It occurred to me, right then, that while Dad may have had no idea about his wife or her past, he wasn’t walking around in a daze either. She was different—and he knew it.

I wandered around, not stopping until I noticed Mark Smith standing by the window at the end of the hall, a solitary silhouette.

“Mr. Smith?”

He turned from the window. “James.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry about your grandfather.” He turned back to the window and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. This is way too soon after the last scare.” He let out a long sigh. “I told him to take it easy, rest for a while.”

I hesitated. I’d always liked Mark, and now I liked him even more.

“Is the company all right?”

He turned back to me. “For the most part, it runs itself,” he said. “He worked his usual magic and several hundred million dollars appeared in our account the other day—and he canceled the layoffs, which was a stupid idea in the first place. If you cut staff, service suffers and you end up losing customers and revenue—it’s a downward spiral.”

I nodded and he gazed back outside for a long time, deep in thought. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“I hate to do this right now,” he said, “but I’ll need to meet with you and your father—the sooner the better.”

I stared up at him. “Why?”

“Even though the Chairman’s alive, he’s unable to make decisions. That duty falls on his family—and his successor.”

CHAPTER

28

Mark Smith sat across from us, looking uncomfortable behind a mountain of paperwork. Three lawyers in expensive suits sat off to the side, looking confident and relaxed.

“Your father’s wishes are quite specific about this,” Mark said, looking at my dad over his glasses. “If anything happened to him, he wanted you to be granted power of attorney over his personal financial affairs and, of course”—he spread his arms—“the Thompson Group.”

My dad looked horrified. “Is this his idea of a sick joke?”

“Come on, Robert.” Mark removed his glasses. “You’re his son. Even if this makes you uncomfortable—”

“This is crazy!” My dad pushed back from the table and walked to the window. I felt sorry for him. We’d already been to the hospital that morning—no change. Grandpa looked as pale and fragile as he had the day before.

“What about you?” Dad turned back to Mark. “Can’t you run things?”

“I am,” Mark said, a hint of frustration in his voice. “I handle day-to-day operations, and the departments have their own management teams—they don’t need anything from you. But your father … his hands are in everything. You’ll need to sign off on major expenditures—and there’s his personal stock portfolio to consider.”

Dad stared at the ground.

Mark sighed and plunged ahead. “And you need to go to Brussels right away.”

“What?!”

“During that stock-market crash, he bought a controlling share of a minor European bank. There are papers to sign.” Mark stood up. “I’ll go with you, of course.”

I lowered my eyes and wondered if Grandpa had caused the crash so he could buy it cheap.

“We
need
that financing, Robert,” Mark said. “If the papers aren’t signed this week, the Thompson Bayview Complex dies forever—”