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Bridge of Scarlet Leaves
Bridge of Scarlet Leaves
Bridge of Scarlet Leaves
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Bridge of Scarlet Leaves

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In this poignant and evocative novel by acclaimed author Kristina McMorris, a country is plunged into conflict and suspicion—forcing a young woman to find her place in a volatile world.
 
Los Angeles, 1941. Violinist Maddie Kern’s life seemed destined to unfold with the predictable elegance of a Bach concerto. Then she fell in love with Lane Moritomo. Her brother’s best friend, Lane is the handsome, ambitious son of Japanese immigrants. Maddie was prepared for disapproval from their families, but when Pearl Harbor is bombed the day after she and Lane elope, the full force of their decision becomes apparent. In the eyes of a fearful nation, Lane is no longer just an outsider, but an enemy.
 
When her husband is interned at a war relocation camp, Maddie follows, sacrificing her Juilliard ambitions. Behind barbed wire, tension simmers and the line between patriot and traitor blurs. As Maddie strives for the hard-won acceptance of her new family, Lane risks everything to prove his allegiance to America, at tremendous cost.
 
Skillfully capturing one of the most controversial episodes in recent American history, Kristina McMorris draws readers into a novel filled with triumphs and heartbreaking loss—an authentic, moving testament to love, forgiveness, and the enduring music of the human spirit.
 
“Readers of World War II fiction will devour Kristina McMorris's Bridge of Scarlet Leaves, a poignant, authentic story of Japanese and American lovers crossed not only by the stars but by the vagaries of war and their own country's prejudices.”
—Jenna Blum, New York Times bestselling author of Those Who Save Us





 
LanguageEnglish
Release dateOct 24, 2011
ISBN9780758278111
Author

Kristina McMorris

Kristina McMorris is a New York Times, USA TODAY, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of two novellas and seven historical novels, including Sold on a Monday with over a million copies sold. The recipient of more than twenty national literary awards, she previously hosted weekly TV shows for Warner Bros. and an ABC affiliate, beginning at age nine with an Emmy Award-winning program, and owned a wedding-and-event-planning company until she far surpassed her limit of "Y.M.C.A." and chicken dances. She lives with her family in Oregon. Visit her online at kristinamcmorris.com; Instagram: @kristina.mcmorris; Twitter: @KrisMcmorris; and Facebook: @KristinaMcMorrisAuthor.

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Rating: 4.292134916853932 out of 5 stars
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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    For those of us who tend to think mainly of Nazis and Soviets when we think of countries in WWII who persecuted their own citizens, McMorris reminds us of what the Americans did to those of Japanese descent in her lovely and bittersweet novel based on the lives of several real people.The novel begins in November, 1941, with 19-year-old Maddie Kern having a secret relationship with Lane Moritomo. At first, Maddie didn’t need to hide her love for Lane because he was Japanese, but because Lane was the best friend of her very protective older brother TJ. But after Pearl Harbor, everything changed. Not only were all Japanese looked at with loathing, but any Caucasian who associated with someone of Japanese descent was ostracized as well. Maddie didn’t care; she loved Lane. But TJ saw things differently. He had always felt betrayed by his father, who was driving drunk when his mother got killed in a car accident, and now he felt betrayed by his “brother,” Lane, who he called “a dirty yellow Jap.”Angry and alienated, TJ enlisted as the war picked up steam. Lane and his family were evacuated to the Manzanar Internment Camp in the Sierra Nevada. Maddie claimed she was pregnant with a mixed-race child and joined Lane at Manzanar.Some of you might recall that in 1942 Roosevelt signed an Executive Order mandating that approximately 110,000 people of Japanese descent living in the US be removed from their homes and placed in internment camps. The US justified its’ action by claiming that there was a danger of those of Japanese descent spying for the Japanese. However more than two thirds of those interned were American citizens and half of them were children. None had ever shown evidence of disloyalty. It only took one-sixteenth of a drop of Japanese blood for exclusion!At the camp, Maddie, like the others, endured sub-standard living conditions with communal latrines and a total lack of privacy. Prisoners had to work at either maintaining the camp or helping with the war effort (even though they were supposedly disloyal) earning between $8 and $19 a month (in 2012 dollars that is between $114 and $270 a month). As American casualties rose, the Army went around to the camps to recruit Japanese to serve in intelligence - translating, and Lane volunteered. He desperately wanted to show his loyalty. Now both the men Maddie loved were serving in the war, and Maddie was pregnant for real.Would any of them make it out? Would they reconcile? Could the wounds of prejudice and racism ever be healed?Discussion: The author was inspired to write this book after hearing from a friend that he had fought for America in World War II but his brother fought for Japan. While investigating the possibilities of this premise, she found out that some 200 non-Japanese people had gone voluntarily to the internment camps in order to be with their spouses. She wanted to tell their stories also. She did a great deal of interviews and other research, which she documents in a "Note" at the end of the story. Additionally, she took care to be balanced in reporting atrocities committed by both sides, observing that a great deal of fear and prejudice was generated by the rampant rumors and propaganda by all parties. Evaluation: This is a touching story that will not only educate you, but win you over with its endearing and brave characters, and its heartbreaking recounting of actual events.The author, herself half Japanese, even includes recipes in the back that reflect a combination of Asian and Western influence!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Bridge of Scarlet Leaves tells the story of two families, the Kerns and the Moritomos. Maddie and her brother TJ live in the family house (their mother is dead and their father is in a nursing home). TJ aspires to be a pro-league baseball player after college while Maddie has her heart set on studying at the Julliard School of Music as a violinist. TJ’s best friend is Lane Moritomo. We meet the three in Los Angeles in 1941. Maddie has been dating Lane in secret because he is first generation Japanese American. While society at that time accepts interracial friendships it generally frowns on those same friends entering into a romantic relationship. The truth of their hidden romance is brought to light when the three, accompanied by Maddie’s friend Jo, attend a local club. There a drunken acquaintance accuses Maddie of crossing the line with Lane. Of course both Lane and TJ fight for Maddie’s honor, her brother thinking the drunk was way off base.The next day, when Lane learns from his parents that a Japanese matchmaker is sending over a bride for him, he convinces Maddie that they should elope the following weekend. So with suitcase in hand, Maddie lies to her brother about her destination and gets on a train that brings her to Lane and a civil ceremony that unites them as husband and wife. Later, on their way home to Los Angeles they learn that the Japanese have bombed Pearl Harbor and that the country is at war. During the trip they begin to experience first hand the fear that grips the country when they are told to leave a restaurant simply because of Lane’s distinguishing Asian features.Upon returning to Los Angeles, Lane goes to his family’s home only to find that his father, a respected banker, is being arrested and his mother and little sister are being harassed. Maddie too returns home to face the wrath of her brother. They live separated for a while as they try to figure things out. Lane and his family are rounded up with other Japanese Americans and bussed out to the desserts of New Mexico and Arizona where they are taken to an internment camp. Under the ever watchful eyes of U.S. Army guards they are given barrack housing and put to work. A school is available for the children. But conditions are less than humane. Lane is now the head of his family and must watch over them. That is when Maddie, who convinces the powers that be that she is pregnant with a Japanese child, willingly enters the camp to live with Lane’s family. Thankfully her brother TJ has joined the Air Force and is not there to stop her.What happens over the course of the war is a black spot on the history of our country. The conditions of the camp, while better than those for prisoners of war, prove a hardship for these proud people. Gangs begin to run freely and threaten the more peaceful families. When Lane, in an effort to prove himself and his family as loyal Americans, joins the Army as a special translator these gangs terrorize the families of those men who have enlisted. In the end these families, Maddie and Lane’s mother and sister among them, are transferred to another state where they stay until the war is over.TJ is taken prisoner in the Pacific Theater of War while Lane, thinking only of Maddie and the daughter she had borne, makes the ultimate sacrifice.This is a romance that transcends the lines of heritage and race. I truly enjoyed the story and felt personal connections with these characters. The characters themselves are well rounded and we see them each grow in different ways. A truly satisfying story, it provided for me knowledge about a period of time that is rarely heard of – the Japanese being rounded up like criminals simply because of who they were.I will say that I like Letters From Home (Ms. McMorris’s first book) a little bit better than this one. That said, I can’t give you a definite reason why although I’ve tried to think of one. For readers who enjoy the drama and intrigue of World War II with a bit of romance on the side, this book is a definite read. The soldier who returns home to claim his bride is there alongside the now-single parent of an interracial child.There are moments of lightness as well as scenes that will have you biting your nails. A solid story that you will certainly enjoy.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This is the second book I have read of Kristina McMorris, first one was Letters From Home , and I have to say I hope she keeps on writing. Her style of writing is so perfect with all the emotions, sights and a sense of the time of WWII are so spot on I felt I was there right in the story. Told with a wealth of knowledge of the era and the Japanese/Americans part in the war. A compassionate, heartfelt and at times sad but triumphant story of how war touches all sides not just ours. I got to feel what it was like for a Japanese/American in an internment camp, the racial slurs but most of all the love that was shown throughout the whole story. Parts of the story had me in tears but that is what a truly well told story is supposed to do..play with our emotions. If you are a WWII history buff or even if you are not, like me, this is a story not to be missed. I highly recommend it.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    BRIDGE OF SCARLET LEAVES is a finely crafted saga about families affected by World War II and the internment of Americans of Japanese descent. McMorris takes important historical facts and weaves them into a fascinating story covering many facets of the lives of Japanese-Americans during this period. They must come to terms with a war against their homeland and their treatment as American citizens by their own government. Their neighbors must suddenly reevaluate their lifelong friendships. Is that family next door now the enemy? Before Maddie and Lane can settle into their new married life, Pearl Harbor is bombed. Maddie finds herself stuck between the two cultures. She is despised by many of her own people but not easily accepted by the Japanese, including her mother-in-law. Maddie’s brother, TJ has been as close as a brother to her new husband, Lane, their entire lives. TJ is conflicted about their mixed race marriage and the bombing of Pearl Harbor only deepens his concerns causing a falling-out between the two. Lane has always considered himself strictly American and must come to terms with his Japanese heritage, first in the internment camp and later in the US Army.McMorris does a great job portraying the war scenes as well as the interpersonal relationships. Her characters are well developed and intriguing. The use of 1940’s slang is a great addition to the dialog. The story is filled with love, hope and devastation. I highly recommend this book for everyone.Rating: 4.5Heat Rating: Mild: Mild detailed scenes of intimacy, mild violence or profanity.Reviewed By: Jeanne Stone-Hunter for My Book Addiction and More
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    About book:Los Angeles, 1941. Violinist Maddie Kern's life seemed destined to unfold with the predictable elegance of a Bach concerto. Then she fell in love with Lane Moritomo. Her brother's best friend, Lane is the handsome, ambitious son of Japanese immigrants. Maddie was prepared for disapproval from their families, but when Pearl Harbor is bombed the day after she and Lane elope, the full force of their decision becomes apparent. In the eyes of a fearful nation, Lane is no longer just an outsider, but an enemy.When her husband is interned at a war relocation camp, Maddie follows, sacrificing her Julliard ambitions. Behind barbed wire, tension simmers and the line between patriot and traitor blurs. As Maddie strives for the hard-won acceptance of her new family, Lane risks everything to prove his allegiance to America, at tremendous cost.My thoughts:Story: Epic.Writing: Thoughtful and thorough.Overall: Unputdownable.Bridge of Scarlet Leaves is an epic story. It is historical fiction and romance wrapped into one. It takes place during WWII and focuses on the Japanese interment camps in the US. We read about the experience of being forced to stay at these camps and how it affects the people that are interned, but also their loved ones on the outside. It is both riveting and heartbreaking to get through. I must admit that prior to this novel I had no idea such camps had ever existed - talk about lack of history in history class. Either way, I'm grateful that McMorris explored this subject and exposed us to an ugly truth in our history that I'm sure not many people are aware of (or at least that is what I hope, since I don't want to be the only ignorant one). Vivid in detail and rich in story, this novel showcases the impeccable and thorough research that McMorris undertook when she created this book. All of her hard work makes for an incredibly authentic read, that leaves you feeling as if you've stepped back in time and are present for the drama and struggles involved with living during WWII. You read about the difficult decisions people make: joining the Army to fight for their country, sacrificing your dreams to follow the man you love, and struggling to come to grips with being treated like an enemy in your own country. You can't help but get caught up in Maddie's, TJ's, and Lane's lives as they fight for the people they love in the only ways they know how. McMorris is able to mix history and romance so seamlessly, that you aren't even aware of the shift in story lines, because the writing is just that good.Told from three perspectives, we get a chance to peek inside each of these character's mind's and learn about what they are going through and their version of the truth. I actually like it when authors' use this tactic to tell a story - I feel it provides us with more insight and offers a much more layered feel to the story. And believe me, these are three characters that you want to know. They are complex, emotional and relatable - which makes them feel like people you might just know. Their internal and external struggles will tug at your heart strings and leave you an emotional mess. You want them to get what they want and you won't forget them anytime soon.McMorris has done an excellent job with this novel. From the characters, setting, and exploration of themes, such as love, patriotism, and family loyalty, you can't help but be impressed by her talent. I would most definitely recommend Bridge of Scarlet Leaves to anyone and everyone looking for their next great read - check it out! You will not be disappointed!!
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Bridge of Scarlet Leavesby: Kristina McMorrisI won this book from a LibraryThing give-a-wayThis book takes place in WWII. It follows TJ and Lane as soldiers and Maddie, TJ's sister and Lanes love. This book takes you through alot of emotions. It's a love story, a war story and even an inter-racial couple. The story is well written and the characters are well written and gives you a real sense of what it was like during this time and war. Great Book!
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Maddie Kern has basically lost both of her parents and her brother has taken on her care even though he is not much older. He is acting like men of old - telling her what she can and can't do even though she is 19 years old. She has fallen in love with his best friend, Lane Moritomo, a dangerous thing to do when inter-racial marriage is still illegal in 30 states. His parents are still bound to the "old ways" and are seeking a wife for him from Japan and he is proudly American.Then comes Pearl Harbor and one of the most shameful acts this country enacted on its citizens - the internment of Japanese Americans just for their race.Maddie and Lane elope and she makes the decision to follow him to the camp where she is not accepted. She is shunned in both worlds and doesn't know where she belongs except with Lane - his love is true but then he enlists.I don't want to spoil the book with plot points but I will say this was a book that despite some unfortunate turns of phrase kept me riveted. It's a subject that I think needs to be told and as many times as possible to remind us of what we are capable of when fear overrules common sense. Ms. McMorris tells her tale with passion and you can sense her depth of research in the reading. The personal relationships did not come through as strong as the historical aspects of the book; Maddie's brother in particular was not as developed a character I think as I would have liked for such a focal point in the book. But it was a book I enjoyed reading and it furthered my knowledge about this period in history.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    The Bridge of Scarlet Leaves is a good old-fashioned historical fiction / romance set in World War II. Madeline Kern is a talented violinist whose goal is to be accepted at Julliard right after high school. Then she falls in love with Lane Moritomo, her brother TJ's best friend. Knowing that her family (and his!) would not approve of their relationship (Lane is Japanese), they keep it a secret. And then, the day after they elope, the attack on Pearl Harbor takes place, and their lives are turned upside down. Lane and all his family are swept off to an internment camp, so Maddie goes, too. McMorris balances several different plot lines very skillfully, and creates characters that are deep enough and different enough to make the reader care about every one of them. As star-crossed young lovers, Maddie and Lane are very attractive, and we watch the decisions they make with trepidation. Then when the characters find themselves all over the Pacific arena (TJ as a POW, and Lane a Japanese translator on the front lines) the reader is caught up in fascinating details about the War their history books don't have time to discuss. Will Maddie ever win over her Japanese mother-in-law? Will Lane come back to her, and will her brother be rescued from the POW Camp? Read Bridge of Scarlet Leaves to find out. Reading Bridge of Scarlet Leaves is a painless way to learn what life was like in California during the 1940s, and it would be a fine adjunct to US History classes. There may be a few anachronisms (did boys have bangs in 1941? Did they wear cuffed blue jeans? I didn't take time to research...) but overall the writing is surprisingly good. Although the author perhaps tried to juggle a couple more story lines than necessary, it all works out well in the end.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Warm and tender story of a young Caucasian violinist who runs off, in the face of her brother's displeasure, to marry her Asian boyfriend the day before Pearl Harbor. The story follows the groom, Lane Morimoto, and his family through the internment camps, where his bride Maddie comes to join them. The story is well-researched and the characters strong.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    This book is the kind of book that leaves you feeling like you have been gently nudged with knowledge from new friends you have made. Every character wrapped around my heart even some that didn't appear often. I loved that Kristina's Authors note explained her journey in writing the book and that I somehow ended up with a "Reading Group" version with thought provoking questions...I could completely see a school using this as a summer read.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This author has the uncanny knack of writing stories that are very easy to read and combine the elements of history and a romance with a profound sense of the era. The Japanese and the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the mistrust and the prejudice that came from it are all brilliantly related here. The characters of Maddie and Lane are wonderful. This author puts one solidly back in this time period with a depth of feeling and emotion that is impressive. Anyone who liked her last book, Letters from Home, will love this one as well.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This is a historical fiction book about WWII, specifically about the internment of Japanese Americans during the war. I love WWII historical fiction but have not read much about the internment of Japanese Americans so I thought it would be interesting to get a glimpse of this side of the war. I also decided to read this book because I loved the author's previous book.At first I seemed to have a hard time connecting with the characters but as the book went on I definitely was able to connect with them. This book was well researched and beautifully written. I found myself really happy with the way it ended and was definitely shedding a few tears while reading the last couple chapters.I would recommend this book to fans of WWII historical fiction.[I received this book from a Goodreads giveaway, which in no way affects the content of my review.]
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Kristina McMorris follows up the success of her first novel Letters from Home - a World War II piece - with her newly released novel that explores the effects of war from many points of view - Bridge of Scarlet Leaves.1941, California. Maddie Kern and her brother TJ are still reeling from the loss of their mother in a car wreck and the subsequent catatonic retreat of their father into a world of his own. TJ is bent on protecting his sister and making sure she succeeds in her music career. Maddie is afraid to tell him that she has fallen in love with his best friend - Lane Moritomo - an American born son of Japanese immigrants. Determined to be together, they run away to Seattle to elope. In Seattle is is legal for inter racial couples to be married, but not in California. Doesn't that just make you stop and think? Illegal for inter racial couples...Lane and Maddie are on their way home the next day when Pearl Harbor is bombed. And their world is torn apart. Lane's family is sent to the internment camps. (a side note - this was not confined to the US; the Canadian government also sent those of Japanese descent to camps. Eco-Activist David Suzuki was brought up in a camp) TJ impulsively joins the Army and Maddie - she wants to be with the husband she loves.Hate, bigotry, loyalty, duty, fear and the horrors of war are explored and juxtaposed with hope, love, determination, honor, friendship and forgiveness. McMorris examines these themes through the eyes of many characters, providing alternate viewpoints for each. TJ is full of anger and a character I discounted until later in the book. Maddie's best friend, co-workers and neighbours all have a different take. But it is Lane that suffered with the most. He is torn between his love for Maddie, his love for his sister, his sense of duty towards his family and his need to prove himself as a loyal American. He is seen as a traitor by both sides. Maddie suprised me many times - she was only nineteen when she married Lane. Her determination in this time period to go against the norm and follow her heart was stirring.McMorris takes many factual pieces of history and weaves them into her story. Japanese Americans who were in Japan when war was declared were conscripted and forced to fight against America. There were many American Caucasian wives who refused to leave their Japanese husbands and children and chose to live in the camps as well.While McMorris has based her book on a certain time period, as I was reading I thought - this story could be written about many time periods. The hate shown towards race, religion, beliefs and gender is unfortunately a story that continues to be written every day.Kristina McMorris injects a keen insight into Bridge of Scarlet Leaves. "As the daughter of a Japanese immigrant father and Caucasian American mother, Kristina grew up living between these two cultures. Through Bridge of Scarlet Leaves she hopes to share with readers a unique perspective of an intriguing, and often tragic, portion of our country's history, while also honoring a diverse range of quiet heroes."And that she has. I very much enjoyed Bridge of Scarlet Leaves. Those who enjoyed Kristin Hannah's or Sarah Jio's latest books will enjoy this title.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    If I had to describe this book in two words it would be soul stirring. The author weaves a tale of love and loss, set during a very tumultuous time in our countries history.From the age of nine when Maddie Kern's father gave her a used violin it became her goal to enter into Juilliard. After the death of her mother, her father changed and her brother TJ started looking out for her, and thought that her dating anyone would be a distraction from her future plans. By the age of nineteen though she has fallen in love with Lane Moritomo , a handsome Japanese/American who also happens to be TJ's friend. They have kept their dating a secret though,and when Lane's parents inform him that they are arranging a marriage for him TJ and Maddie decide to elope, and then Pearl Harbor is bombed and their lives change forever!What an amazing story. It was easy to see that the author really did her research with this story, I actually felt like I was getting a history lesson while reading this remarkable story. I was often shocked and appalled at how Japanese/American's were treated, and that fact really hit home for me when the government went in and searched Lane's parents home and found his model plane diagrams, something so simple caused them to be treated as the enemy. Lane was such a wonderful character always looking out for everyone else, and the love story between him and Maddie was just amazing. This was such a thought provoking story that really captured my heart. I found myself thinking about the characters long after I finished the final page. I think this book would be a wonderful read for anyone who enjoys reading historical fiction, and the discussion questions makes this book perfect for a group read. I also enjoyed reading the author's notes at the end of the story.Overall "Bridge Of Scarlet Leaves"is a must read story that I highly recommend.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    Maddie Kern has basically lost both of her parents and her brother has taken on her care even though he is not much older. He is acting like men of old - telling her what she can and can't do even though she is 19 years old. She has fallen in love with his best friend, Lane Moritomo, a dangerous thing to do when inter-racial marriage is still illegal in 30 states. His parents are still bound to the "old ways" and are seeking a wife for him from Japan and he is proudly American.Then comes Pearl Harbor and one of the most shameful acts this country enacted on its citizens - the internment of Japanese Americans just for their race.Maddie and Lane elope and she makes the decision to follow him to the camp where she is not accepted. She is shunned in both worlds and doesn't know where she belongs except with Lane - his love is true but then he enlists.I don't want to spoil the book with plot points but I will say this was a book that despite some unfortunate turns of phrase kept me riveted. It's a subject that I think needs to be told and as many times as possible to remind us of what we are capable of when fear overrules common sense. Ms. McMorris tells her tale with passion and you can sense her depth of research in the reading. The personal relationships did not come through as strong as the historical aspects of the book; Maddie's brother in particular was not as developed a character I think as I would have liked for such a focal point in the book. But it was a book I enjoyed reading and it furthered my knowledge about this period in history.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Fantastic choice for a book club discussion. The story involves the conflict between the Chinese vs Japanese cultures, life inside the Japanese camp during WW2, the role of a Japanese man participating in the US military, not to mention the story of several families adapting to all the situations forced upon them. The book was very well researched and written. It was well worth the time spent reading it. I seldom give high ratings, but this one was worth it!
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    American history class never talks about the fact that the US rounded up Japanese and Italian immigrants during WWII. It is woefully swept under the rug. It wasn't until I read Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet that I even knew about this black spot, how sad is that?! Bridge Of Scarlet Leaves again brings this travesty to light in the story of Lane and Maddie.This story stirs up so many emotions throughout the book. You root for Maddie and Lane even though you know that it won't be an easy road ahead for them. You root for TJ and hope that the chip on his shoulder some how gets removed. You have feelings of patriotism because Ms. McMorris brings you back to that time so vividly. And yet as you read about the travesties against the Japanese-Americans, you can't help but feel sick to your stomach. These were citizens of our country that were rounded up and treated like traitors for no reason at all, except because they were all of Japanese heritage.What I loved about this book was the growth and change that all the characters went through. Maddie had to become a young wife and daughter in law sooner than she would have liked. Lane had to take on the responsibilities of his family when his dad was taken away. TJ had been responsible for Maddie for so long he had forgotten what it was like to just look out for himself.I enjoyed reading how Maddie's relationship with her mother-in-lase Kumiko evolved over time. I loved how Kumiko became a woman who opened her heart instead of keeping it closed off. You came to respect who she was and why she was closed off after revealing something of her past.The book had one of three ways to end and I knew that Ms. McMorris wouldn't take the easy road. I'm not sure how she decided on the ending but it was the only ending that made sense. Did it break my heart? Absolutely. Was it realistic? Absolutely. It was the final chapter/final scene that had me bawling like a baby.It is obvious that Ms. McMorris did her research and this story meant a great deal to her. She is a wonderful storyteller and makes the time period come to life. I loved her infusion of various societal situations: the Japanese obsession with baseball and the Women's baseball league. Music is also a very important part of the book. It is what Maddie turns to when things in her life seems out of hand. It is was rescues her in some ways in the end of the book too.I will definitely be check out her novel Letters From Home at some point in the future. I can't recommend Bridge Of Scarlet Leaves enough for any one who enjoys a good WWII novel or just a wonderful family story.

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  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This was a very well researched and beautiful love story set in WWII. I have to admit that it did take me a few chapters before I was really hooked. I was slightly worried that the story was going to be a bit of a light read, and I originally felt that there was not enough factual information to make a compelling story. But as I continued on with the book, it really came through for me.This is the story of Maddie and her brother T.J. They are both still dealing with the aftermath of their mom's death. T.J. is angry at his dad and blames him, while Maddie eventually finds love and comfort in the arms of T.J.'s Japanese school buddy, Tomo. Just as Maddie and Tomo elope, Pearl Harbor is bombed. Maddie decides to accompany Tomo and his family to a Japanese internment camp. T.J. enlists in the army and fights for his life first in a bomber plane and later as a POW. Tomo eventually finds himself in the Pacific as part of the war effort, too.Their is lots of tension, heartbreak, happiness, romance, fear at this point in the story. I am so glad that I stuck with the book because it was full of the historical information that I was hoping for. I appreciated the Author's Note at the end that included more historical information and the author's own personal reasons for writing this book. There were also some traditional Japanese recipes included. Well done love story on a very controversial time in US history.

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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I've got to give kudos to this author and her attention to historical detail. The reader immediately gets how much research she has put into this and the care she has taken with the littlest of details. And there are just so many areas of WWII explored in this: intimate details of life in Japanese internment camps, the role of Nisei in the army, the horrific life in Japanese POW camps, the huge changes in the daily lives of Japanese American citizens on the West Coast both pre, during, and post war. The author brings it all to life in an astounding way.The author pays just as much detail on her relationships and the characters in them. Every attachment between our characters is nuanced and has incredible depth. They ebb and flow with the changing events of WWII on the American home front to become something very different than in the beginning of the book. The author takes the time to illustrate how these historical events impact her characters and their lives in wonderful ways. The characters themselves are also varied and show the impact the war has on people. Every single individual goes through varied changes and emerges at the end of the war as a more rounded person, changed for better or worse by the heavy impact of war and prejudice. I really enjoyed this novel. It tells an intriguing story in a historical setting that is researched well. The characters and their relationships show the author’s skills in the characterization and story-telling department. I would definitely read more books by this author. This was a great introduction to her and the era and setting in general.

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Bridge of Scarlet Leaves - Kristina McMorris

words.

PART ONE

Every leaf while on its tree sways in unison;

bears the same light and shadow,

is sustained by the same sap that will release it in blazing color.

It is that moment before falling we all live for,

to see ourselves for the first time,

to hear our name being called from the inside.

—Deanna Nikaido,

daughter of a Japanese American evacuee

1

November 1941

Los Angeles, California

At the sound of her brother’s voice, flutters of joy turned to panic in Maddie Kern. Cripes, she whispered, perched on her vanity seat. What’s he doing home?

Jo Allister, her closest girlfriend and trusted lookout, cracked open the bedroom door. She peeked into the hall as TJ hollered again from downstairs.

Maddie! You here?

It was six o’clock on a Friday. He should have been at his campus job all night. If he knew who was about to pick her up for a date . . .

She didn’t want to imagine what he would do.

Maddie scanned the room, seeking a solution amidst her tidy collection of belongings—framed family photos on the bureau, her posters of the New York Symphony, of Verdi’s Aida at the Philharmonic. But even her violin case, which she’d defended from years of dings and scratches, seemed to shake its head from the corner and say, Six months of sneaking around and you’re surprised this would happen?

Jo closed the door without a click and pressed her back against the knob. Want me to keep him out? Her pale lips angled with mischief. Despite the full look of her figure, thanks to her baggy hardware store uniform, she was no match for TJ’s strength. Only his stubbornness.

"My brother seeing me isn’t the problem, Maddie reminded her. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand, and found cause for remaining calm. Lane shouldn’t be here for another twelve minutes. If I can just—"

The faint sound of an engine drove through the thought and parked on her words. Had he shown up early? She raced to the window, where she swatted away her childhood drapes. She threw the pane upward and craned her neck. Around the abandoned remains of her father’s Ford, she made out a wedge of the street. No sign of Lane’s car. She still had time.

Hey, Rapunzel, Jo said. You haven’t turned batty enough to scale walls for a fella, have you?

Maddie shushed her, interrupted by creaks of footfalls on the staircase. "You have to do it," she decided.

Do what?

Warn Lane, Maddie was about to say, but realized she needed to talk to him herself, in order to set plans to meet later that night. Come tomorrow, he’d be on a train back to Stanford.

She amended her reply. You’ve got to distract TJ for me.

Jo let out a sharp laugh. Pushing out her chest, she tossed back stragglers from her ash-brown ponytail. What, with all my stylish locks and hefty bosom? Then she muttered, Although, based on his past girlfriends, I suppose that’s all it would take.

No, I mean—you both love baseball. Chat about that.

Jo raised a brow at her.

Please, Maddie begged. "You came by to help me get ready, didn’t you? So, help me."

Why not just tell him and get it over with?

Because you know how he feels about my dating. A distraction from her future, he called it. The same theory he applied to his own career.

Maddie. This isn’t just about any guy.

I know, I know, and I’ll come clean. But not yet.

A knuckle-rap sounded on her door. You in there?

She sang out, Hold on a minute, and met Jo’s eyes. "Please."

Jo hesitated before releasing a sigh that said Maddie would owe her one. A big one.

I’ll come right back, Maddie promised, once I head Lane off down the block.

After a grumble, Jo pasted on a smile, wide enough for a dentist’s exam, and flung open the door. TJ, she exclaimed, how ’bout that streak of DiMaggio’s, huh?

Behind his umber bangs, his forehead creased in puzzlement. Uh, yeah. That was . . . somethin’. His hand hung from a loop of his cuffed jeans. Nearly four years of wash and wear had frayed the patch on his USC Baseball sweatshirt. Its vibrancy had long ago faded, just like TJ’s.

Diverting from Jo’s unsubtle approach, Maddie asked him, Didn’t you have to work tonight?

I was supposed to, but Jimmy needed to switch shifts this weekend. His cobalt gaze suddenly narrowed and gripped hers. You going somewhere special?

What? She softly cleared her throat before thinking to glance down at her flared navy dress, her matching strappy heels. She recalled the pin curls in her auburn, shoulder-length do. The ensemble didn’t spell out a casual trip to a picture show.

Jo swiftly interjected, There’s a new hot jazz band playing at the Dunbar. They say Duke Ellington and Billie Holiday might even be there. I’m dragging Maddie along. A keen study in music. You know, for her big audition.

I thought you were practicing tonight, he said to Maddie.

I am—I will. After we get back.

You two going alone?

We’ll be fine. As everything would be, if he’d let up long enough.

All right, he said, rubbing the back of his neck. I’ll just grab a bite in the kitchen then come along.

Maddie stifled a gasp. No, really. You don’t have to.

At the Dunbar? Oh yeah I do.

Criminy. Was he going to hold her hand as they crossed the street to reach the bus stop too?

TJ, this is ridiculous. I’m nineteen years old. Dad used to let us go out all the—

He lashed back with a fistful of words. Well, Dad’s gone, and I’m not him. You don’t like the deal, you can stay home.

Stunned, Maddie stared at him. He’d spoken the word gone as though their father had died along with their mother.

Jo waved her hands, shooing away the tension. So it’s settled. We’ll all go together. Maddie widened her eyes as Jo continued, And hey, while he’s eating, you’ll have time to drop off your neighbor’s letter. The one the postman delivered by accident.

The letter . . . ?

Confusion quickly gave way to disappointment. Maddie now had an excuse to sneak out, but only to cancel rather than delay her date with Lane. She hated the prospect of missing one of his rare visits from school.

On the upside, in two weeks he would be back for winter break, offering more opportunities for quality time together.

Fine, then, she snipped at her brother. Come if you want.

What other choice did she have?

While Jo bombarded TJ with questions about the World Series, Maddie strode down the hall. Her urge to sprint mounted as she recalled the time. She made it as far as the bottom step when the doorbell rang.

Oh, God.

I’ll get it! She rushed to the entry. Hoping to prevent the disaster from worsening, she opened the door only halfway. Yet at the greeting of Lane’s perfect white smile, all her worries evaporated like mist. The warm glow of the portico light caressed his short black hair and olive skin. Shadows swooped softly from his high cheekbones. His almond-shaped eyes, inherited from his Japanese ancestors, shone with the same deep brown that had reached out and captured her heart the first time he’d held her last spring, an innocent embrace that had spiraled into more.

Hi, Maddie, he said, and handed her a bouquet of lavender lilies. Their aroma was divine, nearly hypnotic, just like his voice.

But then footsteps on the stairs behind her sobered her senses.

You have to go, was all she got out before TJ called to him.

Tomo! It was the nickname he’d given Lane Moritomo when they were kids. You didn’t tell me you were coming home.

The startle in Lane’s eyes deftly vanished as his best friend approached.

Maddie edged herself aside. Her heart thudded in the drum of her chest as she watched Lane greet him with a swift hug. A genuine grin lit TJ’s face, a rare glimpse of the brother she missed.

I’m only in till tomorrow, Lane told him. Then it’s straight back for classes. Though several inches shorter than TJ, he emitted a power in his presence, highlighted by his tailored black suit.

Term’s almost over, TJ remarked. What brought you back?

There was a funeral this afternoon. Had to go with my family.

Surprisingly, TJ’s expression didn’t tense at the grim topic. Then again, Lane always did have the ability—even after the accident—to settle him when no one else could. Anyone I know?

No, no. Just the old geezer who ran the bank before my dad. Came away with some nice flowers at least. Lane gestured to the lilies Maddie had forgotten were in her grip. Priest said they didn’t have space for them all.

TJ brushed over the gift with a mere glance. I was gonna take the girls to some jazz joint. Any chance you wanna come?

Sure. I’d love to, he said, not catching the objection in Maddie’s face.

Her gaze darted to the top of the staircase, seeking help. There, she found Jo leaning against the rail with a look that said, Ah, well, things could be worse.

And she was right. Before the night was over, things could get much, much worse.

2

Cigarette smoke at the Dunbar swirled, adding to the fog of Lane’s thoughts. Since arriving, he had been struggling to keep his focus on the Negroes playing riffs onstage. Now, with TJ off fetching drinks, he could finally allow his eyes to settle on the profile of Maddie, seated across from him. Her jasmine perfume, while subtle, somehow transcended the wafts of beer and sweat in the teeming club.

From above the bar, blue lights danced over the crowd united in music and laughter—racially integrated, as the entire world would be when Lane was done with it—and rippled shadows across Maddie’s face. The narrow slope of her nose led to full lips, moist with a red sheen. Her hazel eyes studied the musicians with such intensity that he chose to merely watch her.

Amazing that he’d known her for more than half his life, yet only months ago had he truly begun to see her. The ache to touch her swelled, along with a desire to make up for lost time. He reached over and brushed the back of her creamy hand resting on their cocktail table.

She jolted, her trance broken. Sorry, she said, and returned his smile.

Pretty good, isn’t he? Lane indicated the saxophonist. The long, haunting notes of Summertime made the guy’s talent obvious even to Lane.

Yeah, I suppose.

You don’t think so?

No, I do. It’s just—the structure’s so loose, with all those slurs, and the downbeat going in and out. Plus, the key changes are too quick to feel grounded. And during the chorus, his timing keeps— She broke off, her nose crinkling in embarrassment. Gosh, listen to me. I sound like a royal snob, don’t I?

Not at all.

She exaggerated a squint. Liar.

They both laughed. In truth, he could listen to her talk forever. God, I’ve missed you, he said to her.

I’ve missed you too. The sincerity in her voice was so deep, he could lose himself in that sound for days. But a moment later, she glanced around as if abruptly aware of the surrounding spectators, and her glimmering eyes dulled, turned solid as her defenses. She slid her hand away, sending a pang down his side.

He told himself not to read into it, that her aversion to a public show of affection wasn’t a matter of race. She was simply fearful of jeopardizing her relationship with her brother. Understandable, after all she had been through.

So, she said. Where did Jo go?

To the ladies’ room.

Oh.

Awkwardness stretched between them as the song came to a close. They joined in with a round of applause. When the next ballad began, it occurred to him that a slow dance would be their only chance for a private, uninterrupted talk. His only chance to hold her tonight. He gestured to the dance floor. Shall we?

I . . . don’t think we should.

Maddie, your brother won’t get any ideas just because—

A booming voice cut him off. Evenin’, sweet cakes. The guy sidled up to the table near Maddie, a familiar look to him. Beer sloshed in his mug, only two fingers gripping the handle. He had the sway of someone who’d already downed a few. Fancy seeing you here.

Maddie shifted in her seat, her look of unease growing. Hi, Paul.

Now Lane remembered him. Paul Lamont. The guy was a baseball teammate of TJ’s, ever since their high school years, subjecting Lane to occasional encounters as a result. Even back then, the towhead had carried a torch for Maddie subtle as a raging bonfire.

What do you say? Paul licked his bottom lip and leaned on the table toward her. Wanna cut a rug?

No thanks.

C’mon, doll. You don’t wanna hurt my feelings, do ya?

Lane couldn’t hold back. I think the lady’s answered.

Paul snapped his gaze toward the challenge. He started to reply when recognition caught. Well, lookee here. Lane Moratoro. Beer dove from his mug, splashed on Lane’s dress shoes.

It’s Moritomo. Lane strove to be civil, despite being certain the error was purposeful.

Oh, that’s right. Mo-ree-to-mo. Then Paul yelled, Hey, McGhee!

A guy standing nearby twisted around. His fitted orange shirt and broad nose enhanced his lumberjack’s build. Yeah, what?

Got another rich Oriental here who wants to rule our country. Thinks he’s gonna be the first Jap governor of—no, wait. Paul turned to Lane. "It’s a senator, right?"

Lane clenched his hands under the table. Something like that. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Maddie shaking her head in a stiff, just-ignore-him motion.

Paul’s lips curled into a wry grin. Well, in that case, maybe you can help a local citizen out. He put an unwelcome hand on Lane’s shoulder. See, my pop’s been truck farming for twenty-some years, working his fingers to the bone. But wouldn’t you know it? Jap farmers round here just keep undercutting his damn prices. So I was thinkin’, when you’re elected senator you could do something about that. His mouth went taut. "Or would your real loyalty be with those dirty slant eyes?"

Lane shot to his feet, tipping his chair onto the floor. He took a step forward, but a grasp pulled at his forearm.

Lane. It was Maddie at his side. Let it go. The lumberjack squared his shoulders as she implored, Honey, forget him. He’s not worth it.

At that, Paul’s glance ricocheted between her and Lane. He scoffed in disbelief. Don’t tell me you two are . . .

Lane knew he should deny it for Maddie’s sake, yet the words failed to form. Again, her touch slipped away, leaving the skin under his sleeve vacantly cold.

Paul snorted a laugh, thick with disgust. Well, Christ Almighty. Who’d a thought.

Lane’s nails bit into his palms. He felt his upper back muscles gather, cinching toward the cords of his neck.

We got a problem here? TJ arrived at the scene and put down their drinks.

Everything’s great, Maddie announced. Isn’t it, fellas.

Jitterbug notes failed to cushion their silence.

Paul? TJ said.

Paul nodded tightly and replied, Just fine, Kern. I’m surprised, is all. Figured you’d be more selective about who made moves on your little sister.

TJ’s face turned to stone. What are you sayin’?

Once more, a denial refused to budge from Lane’s throat.

What, you didn’t know either? Paul said, but TJ didn’t respond. With a glint of amusement, Paul shook his head, right as Jo returned to their table. Goes to prove my point, he went on. Every one of them filthy yellow Japs is a double-crosser, no matter how well you think you—

His conclusion never reached the air. A blow from TJ’s fist stuffed it back into the bastard’s mouth. Paul’s beer mug dropped to the floor, arcing a spray across strangers’ legs. Shrieks outpoured in layers.

A wall of orange moved closer; McGhee the lumberjack wanted in on the action. Lane lurched forward to intervene. Diplomacy deferred, he shoved the guy with an adrenaline charge that should have at least rocked the guy backward, but McGhee was a mountain. Solid, unmovable. A mountain with a punch like Joe Louis. His hit launched a searing explosion into Lane’s eye socket.

The room spun, a carousel ride at double speed. Through his good eye, Lane spied the ground. He was hunched over but still standing. He raised his head an inch and glimpsed TJ taking an uppercut to the jaw. TJ came right back with a series of pummels to Paul’s gut.

Lane strained to function in the dizzy haze, to slow the ride. He noted McGhee’s legs planted beside him. The thug motioned for Lane to rise for a second round. Before going back in, though, Lane was bringing support. His fingers closed on the legs of a wooden chair. He swung upward, knocking McGhee over a table and into a stocky colored man, who then grabbed him by the orange collar.

Cops! someone hollered.

And the music stopped.

Let’s scram, Tomo! In an instant, TJ was towing him by the elbow. They threaded through the chaos with Maddie and Jo on their heels. They didn’t stop until reaching an empty alley several blocks away.

Lane bent over, hands on his thighs, to catch his breath. The echo of his pulse pounded in his ears, throbbed his swelling eye. Still, through it all he heard laughter. TJ’s laughter. That carefree sound had been as much a part of Lane’s childhood as Japanese Saturday school, or strawberry malts at Tilly’s Diner.

Maddie rolled her eyes with a glower. "Well, I’m glad someone thinks that was funny."

See, I was right. Jo nudged her arm. Told you that joint was jumpin’.

Yeah, she said, it was jumpin’ all right. Too bad we almost jumped straight into a jail cell. When TJ’s laughter grew, Maddie’s smile won out. She hit her brother lightly on the chest. You’re off your nut.

Lane grinned. And this is new news?

Jo peeked out around the brick wall. Water drizzled from a drain spout. Coast is clear, she reported.

The ragged foursome treaded toward the bus stop. On the way, Lane turned to TJ and quietly offered his thanks—for what he did, for defending him.

Eh, TJ said, what’re friends for. He used a sleeve to wipe the trickle of blood from his lip, then slung an arm over Lane’s shoulder. Besides, I can’t think of the last time I had that much fun.

The vision of TJ hammering out his aggressions on Paul came back in a flash of images. I’m just glad I’m not your enemy, Lane said with a smile—one that faded the moment he recalled what had initially provoked the fight.

3

It was on nights like this that Maddie missed her most, when her love life seemed a jumble of knots only a mother could untangle. More than that, her mom’s advice would have fostered hopes of a happily ever after.

The woman had been nothing if not a romantic.

She’d adored roses and rainstorms and candlelight, in that order. She had declared chocolate an essential food for the heart, and poetry as replenishment for the soul. She’d kept every courtship note from her husband—who she’d sworn was more handsome than Clark Gable—and had no qualms about using her finest serving ware for non-holiday dinners. Life, she would say, was too short not to use the good china. As though she had known how short hers would be.

Maddie tugged her bathrobe over her cotton nightgown. Unfortunately, no amount of warmth would relax the wringing in her chest. Always this was the cost of remembering her mother. The one remedy Maddie could count on was music.

She placed the violin case on her bed. Unlatching the lid, she freed her instrument from its red velvet–lined den. The smooth wood of the violin, of the bow, felt cool and wonderful in her hands. Like a crisp spring morning. Like air.

An audience of classical composers—black-and-white, wallet-sized portraits—sat poised in the lid’s interior. Mozart, Mendelssohn, Bach, and Tchaikovsky peered with critical eyes. Do our works justice, Miss Kern, or give us due cause to roll over in our graves.

She rosined and tuned in systematic preparation. Then she positioned herself properly before the music stand. Bach’s Partita No. 3 in E major. The sheets were aligned and ready. She knew them by heart but took no chances. She placed the chin rest at her jaw, inhaling the fragrance of the polished woodwork. A shiver of anticipation traveled through her.

Eyes intent on the prelude, she raised her bow over the bridge. Her internal metronome ticked two full measures of allegro tempo. Only then did she launch the horsehairs into action. Notes pervaded the room, precise and sharp. Her fingertips rippled toward the scroll and down again, like a wave fighting its own current. The strings vibrated beneath her skin, the bow skipped under her control. And with each passing phrase, each conquered slur, the twisting on her heart loosened, the memories faded away.

By the time she reached the final note, the calculated stanzas had brought order back to her life. She held her pose in silence, waiting reluctantly for the world to reenter her consciousness.

Maddie?

Startled back, she turned toward the doorway.

Just wanted to say good night. Her brother held what appeared to be ice cubes bound by a dishcloth on his right knuckles. His scuffle with Paul suddenly seemed days rather than hours ago. Got a game tomorrow morning. Then I’m taking Jimmy’s shift, he reminded her.

Are you sure you can do all that, with your hand?

He glanced down. Ah, it’s nothin’, he said, lowering the injury to his side.

TJ’s hand could be broken into a thousand pieces—as could his heart—and he’d never admit it.

That sounded good, by the way, he said. The song you were playing.

She offered a smile. Thanks.

You using it for the audition?

I might. If I make it past the required pieces.

Well, don’t sweat it. I know you’re gonna get in next time. In contrast to this past year, he meant, when she had blown the audition at I.M.A.

Under the Juilliard School of Music, the Institute of Musical Art had been established in New York to rival the best of European conservatories. Maddie’s entrance into the program was a goal her dad had instilled in her since her ninth birthday. He’d gifted her with a used violin, marking the first time he had ever expressed grand hopes for her future, versus her brother’s.

You know, I was thinking. . . . Maddie fidgeted with the end of her bow. When I visit Dad this week, you should come along.

TJ’s eyes darkened. I got a lot of stuff to do.

But, we could go any day you’d like.

I don’t think so.

TJ, she said wearily. He’s been there a year and you haven’t gone once. You can’t avoid him forever.

"Wanna bet?" Resentment toughened his voice, a cast shielding a wound—that wound being grief, Maddie was certain. She had yet to see him shed a tear over their mother’s death, and those feelings had to have pooled somewhere.

After a long moment brimming with the unspoken, his expression softened. She told herself to hug him, a sign she understood. Yet the lie of that prevented her from moving. Their father, after all, had never even been charged. How many years would TJ continue to blame him?

TJ studied his ice bag and murmured, I’m just not ready, okay?

Maddie knew better than to push him, mule-headed as he could be. Besides, she couldn’t discount his admission, which held promise, if thin. And truth, the core of his existence.

Fair enough. She tried to smile, but the contrast of her ongoing deception soured her lips.

Lane.

Her steady.

It had been Maddie’s idea to keep their courtship a secret, at least until the relationship developed. With TJ’s temperament heightening along with his protectiveness of her, why get him hot and bothered for no reason? His friendship with Lane aside, society’s resistance to mixed couples wouldn’t have helped her case.

Tonight, though, from her brother’s old smile to his old laugh, his defending Lane with gusto, she saw an opening for his approval. She needed to act before the opportunity closed.

Well, good night, TJ said, and angled away.

Wait.

He looked at her.

The words gathered in her throat, but none of them suitable for a brother. She didn’t dare describe how a mere glance from Lane could make her feel more glamorous than a starlet. How his touch to her lower spine, while guiding her through a doorway, would cause a tingle beyond description.

What is it? TJ pressed.

Time to be square with him. She clutched her bow and hoped for the best. The thing that Paul said, she began, about me and Lane . . .ogether . . .

He shook his head. Ah, don’t worry.

Yeah, but—

Maddie, it’s fine.

Stop interrupting, she wanted to yell. She had to get this out, to explain how one date had simply led to another. TJ, I need to tell you—

I already know.

Her heart snagged on a beat. She reviewed his declaration, striving to hide her astonishment. You do?

His mouth stretched into a wide grin. The sight opened pores of relief on her neck before she could question how he’d found out.

Of course . . . Lane must have told him. In which case, how long had her brother gone without saying so? All these months spent fretting for nothing. She couldn’t decide which of them she wanted to smack, or embrace, more.

Seriously, TJ mused, the two of you dating? That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. He bit off a laugh, and Maddie froze. Lane’s part of our family—the only family we’ve got left. Even if he ever did get a wild hair to ask you out, he’d come to me first. He’s not the kind to go behind a pal’s back. Paul was just drunk, and he was egging for a fight. Don’t let anything he said get to you, all right?

The implication struck hard, shattering Maddie’s confession. Right, she breathed.

Listen, I’d better hit the sack. Sleep well.

You too, she said with a nod. Though with her uncertainties and emotions gearing up to battle, she expected anything but a restful sleep.

4

"Shhh." With a finger to his lips, Lane reminded his sister to keep as quiet as a ninja. Her analogy, not his. Emma gave him a conspiratorial smile. In her blouse and pleated skirt, black bob framing her round face, she stood next to him behind his bedroom door. Their secret quest lent a twinkle to her chocolate, Betty Boop eyes.

He donned his sunglasses, a necessary measure. Not as protection from the cloudy morning light, but to prevent a scolding should they fail to sneak past their mother. Although he felt rather proud of his inaugural fistfight, the bruises encircling his puffy left eye would hardly earn parental praise. At least Maddie wouldn’t see him like this. His train would depart hours before she’d be off work.

Lane pushed aside his suitcase that barricaded the door. His clothes were packed, ready to nab once he and Emma returned, en route to the station. One cautious step at a time they crept down the hallway. The polished wood floor felt slick beneath his socks. Navigating a corner, hindered by his shaded view, he bumped something on the narrow table against the wall. Their mother’s vase. The painted showpiece teetered. Its ghostly sparrow clung to a withered branch as Lane reached out, but Emma, lower to the ground, made the save.

He sighed and mouthed, Thank you.

Emma beamed.

They continued down the stairs. A Japanese folk song crackled on the gramophone in the formal room. The female singer warbled solemnly about cherry blossoms in spring and a longing to return to Osaka, the city of her birth.

It was no coincidence the tune was a favorite of Lane’s mother.

From the closet in the genkan, their immaculate foyer, he retrieved his trench coat with minimal sound. His sister did the same with her rose-hued jacket. Their house smelled of broiled fish and bean-curd soup. The maid was preparing breakfast. Guilt eased into Lane over her wasted efforts, yet only a touch; he always did prefer pancakes and scrambled eggs.

He pulled out a brief note explaining their excursion, set it on the cabinet stocked with slippers for guests. Then he threw on his wingtips and handed Emma her saddle shoes. As she leaned over to put them on, coins rained from her pocket. This time she reached out too late. Pennies clattered on the slate floor.

Get them later, Lane urged in an undertone, and grabbed the door handle.

"Doko ikun?"

Lane bristled at his mother’s inquiry. I’m . . . taking Emma to Santa Monica, to the Pleasure Pier. Remember, I mentioned it yesterday? He risked a glance in his mother’s direction to avert suspicion. Even in her casual plum housedress, Kumiko Moritomo was the epitome of elegance. Like an actress from a kabuki theatre, never was she seen without powder and lipstick applied, her ebony hair flawlessly coiffed. A small mole dotted her lower left cheek, as dainty as her frame, underscoring the disparity of her chiseled expressions.

Asagohan tabenasai, she said to Emma.

"But, Ok san . . ." The eight-year-old whined in earnest, an understandable reaction. What child would want to waste time eating breakfast? Cotton candy and carousel rides were at stake.

Their mother didn’t bother with a verbal admonishment. Her steely glare was enough to send the girl cowering to the kitchen. "Ohashi o chanto tsukainasai," their mother called out, Emma’s daily reminder to use her chopsticks properly. Crossing the utensils, though it more easily picked up food, symbolized some nonsense involving death. One of many bad omens to avoid on the woman’s tedious list of superstitions.

She shifted to Lane and jerked her chin toward the formal room. We have an issue to discuss, she said in her native tongue. Despite having immigrated to America with her husband more than two decades ago, she spoke to them only in Japanese, which Lane now honored in return. The show of obedience might help at least delay a stock lecture.

Why don’t we talk when Emma and I get back? Before the train. I did promise to take her this morning.

"We will speak now." She turned to fetch her husband from the den. Negotiating wasn’t an option.

Why couldn’t she have had a Mahjong game scheduled? Or her flower-arranging class? Either activity, required by her societal ranking, might have prevented whatever was to come.

Lane shucked off his shoes. In the formal room, he dropped into a wingback chair. The surrounding décor emanated a starkness that carried a chill. Decorative katana swords and encased figurines created a museum display of a heritage to which he felt little connection.

He bounced his heel on the ornate rug, checked his watch. Perhaps if he could guess the impending topic, he could speed things along. The laughing fit he and his sister had barely managed to contain at yesterday’s funeral seemed the most likely possibility, given that the high hats of Little Tokyo had been in attendance.

But really, who could blame them?

Pretending to grieve for their father’s predecessor, the widely despised manager of Sumitomo Bank, would have been hard enough without the suffocating incense and silly Buddhist rites. The frilly green dress their mother had forced Emma to wear—complete with an onslaught of matching gloves and bows—befit a Japanese Shirley Temple. The sole element lacking absurdity had been the priest’s droning chant. Surely the audience would have fallen asleep if not for the blinding altar of golden statues. Another prime lesson from the ancestors: gaudiness to celebrate humility.

He scoffed at the notion, just as his father entered. Although Nobu was several years short of fifty, more salt than pepper topped his lean form. His Kyoto dialect reflected the gentleness of his eyes. He wore his usual haori, a twenty-year-old kimono jacket, simple and humble, the same as him.

Good morning, he said in Japanese.

Lane proceeded in his parents’ language. Good morning, Father. A slight bow sent his sunglasses down the irksomely low bridge of his nose. He nudged them upward to conceal his wound.

In the corner, his mother tended to the gramophone. Her song had ended, giving way to a loop of static. As she stored the record, his father settled on the couch across from Lane and absently rubbed dried glue off his thumb. Assembling his latest model airplane had tinted his fingernails red and blue.

Lane was tempted to kick-start the discussion, an acquired habit from his collegiate council position, but refrained. His family didn’t operate as a democracy.

Finally, his mother moved to the couch and claimed her space. She folded her hands on her lap. Prim. Poised. A usual gap divided the couple, as if flanking an invisible guest.

Your father would like to speak to you, she prompted, a verbal tap of the gavel.

Mmm, his father agreed. He folded his arms and let out a deep exhale that stirred Lane’s curiosity. It is the matchmaker in Japan. He has been working very hard for you, searching for a well-suited prospect.

Shit, Lane thought, not this again.

He didn’t realize the words had slipped out of his mouth until his father narrowed his eyes. Takeshi! It was Lane’s birth name, spoken with more surprise than anger.

Right away, Lane regretted not mirroring the respect his father had always shown him. I apologize. I didn’t mean to say that. Only to think it.

His mother tsked. You are in your father’s house, not a dorm at your American university. If this is how you— She stopped short. Remove your glasses when we are addressing you.

For a moment, Lane had forgotten he was wearing them, and, more important, why. His mother’s gaze bore through the lenses. Bracing himself, he unmasked his suddenly not-so-prideful mark, and his parents gasped in unison.

What is this? His father leaned toward him.

It’s nothing. Really. It looks worse than it is.

Nothing? his mother said, incredulous, but his father continued on with concern.

What happened? Were you robbed?

No, no, Lane assured him. I was just at a club last night, when a brawl broke out. Not the most tactful opening. Better to expound with highlights considered heroic in their culture; violence as a means of unconditional loyalty was, after all, a samurai staple. Some chump I went to Roosevelt High with was there. He was being disrespectful, not only toward me but against all Japanese. So—better to keep things anonymous—a buddy of mine came to my defense. And when I tried to hold the bigger guy back—

Enough, his father said. His eyes exhibited such disappointment, the remainder of the story stalled on Lane’s tongue. I did not raise you to be a lowly street fighter. You have been afforded a better upbringing than that.

Lane’s mother turned to her husband. Shards of ice filled her voice. Did I not warn you? He is twenty-one years old, and because of you, he remains a child. All the idealistic views you have put into his head, to speak up when it suits him. As always, the nail that sticks out gets hammered down. To punctuate the ancient adage, she flicked her hand to the side. The gesture effectively illustrated the quiet criticism she sent the man in every look, every day. An unyielding punishment, it seemed, for trading the dreams she’d once held for his. But his dreams were also for his children. Lane had always known this without being told.

Japan was a tiny island, crammed with farmers and fishermen and conformists, all bowing blindly to an emperor roosted on an outdated throne. Here, possibilities floated like confetti. Los Angeles was the city of angels, the heart of Hollywood, where imagination bloomed and promise hung from palm trees. Hope streamed in the sunlight.

America was their home, and Lane’s need to defend that fact took over.

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