"Jesus! When was the last time you guys cleared the basement out?" James coughed, pulling the collar of his shirt over his mouth and nose to avoid breathing in any more particles from the dust cloud that mushroomed away from the old armchair he had attempted to pick up with his father. "The dust down here is probably older than I am."
"No clue. We usually used the basement to dump anything we didn't need but couldn't be bothered to get rid of," his father wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his sweater, nudging the chair out of the way to access the boxes of decorations that were haphazardly stacked against one corner of the basement. "It's not as bad as it used to be, your uncle Tony used to use it as a place to store all those yard maintenance tools he used to sell at knocked down prices."
"Another one of his 'sure-thing' money making schemes?" James grinned.
"Yep. The basement looked like a miniaturized version of Home Depot for months," his dad grunted, climbing over the chair to reach the boxes on the other side. "Tony was quick to get rid of it all when your mom threatened to dump it all on the front lawn and let the rain ruin the lot. Just count yourself lucky that you can move at all, it used to be so stuffed with Tony's crap that you couldn't even open the basement door."
"Once we get rid of these old Christmas decorations, we might actually have some space down here for once," James grabbed the arm belonging to an inflatable snowman and pulled it, ripping it off when the pump became wedged between a pair of old lawn chairs. "What are you even going to use the basement for once it's all cleared out?"
"No idea. Your mom wants to turn it into her personal gym, but I'll be damned if I have to haul all that exercise equipment down here," his father crawled through the mountain of furniture and dragged a dusty synthetic Christmas tree along with him. "I'm thinking about putting a television down here and calling it a 'man-cave.'"
"Yeah, if mom will let you," James said.
"James? Could you come up here?"
"Speak of the devil," James's father chuckled. "Go on, I think I have it covered here at the moment."
"Are you sure?" James asked, but wasted no time in making a beeline for the stairs, eager to escape the stuffy confines of the basement.
"Of course, I have a system," his father tugged at a series of loose cords, jumping back when he inadvertently caused a minor avalanche, looking incredibly sheepish when he started to clean up the mess he had made. "Just not a good one."
James shook his head and dashed upstairs, drawn to the scent of freshly baked treats that lingered in the air. He reached the top of the stairs and strode into the kitchen, just in time to see his mother carrying a tray of chocolate chip cookies over to the island. She slid off her oven mitts and used them to fan the cookies, cooling them until the steam that rose from them vanished.
"Hey, they smell delicious," James inhaled the sugary aroma and walked over to the tray with his hand outstretched, only to have it swatted away by a flick of his mom's mitts.
"Hands off, mister," his mom tutted. She retrieved a roll of saran wrap and rushed to add a protective layer around the rapidly cooling tray, sealing the treats beneath a transparent blanket. "I baked these for Satomi."
"Ms. Mizukawa?" James felt his heart jump at the mention of his neighbour.
"Yep. She said that she had some important event coming up, so I offered to bake her some treats to bring," his mom explained, rushing over to the oven when one of the pots on the stove began to bubble dangerously. "I'm a little rushed off my feet here getting dinner ready. I wanted to see if you would be fine with dropping off the cookies for me."
"Me?" James asked, making sure that he had heard her right.
"Yes, you," his mom confirmed with a lopsided grin, seeing the faint red tinge on James's cheeks. "You don't still have a crush on Satomi, do you?"
"I never had a crush on her," James let out an exasperated sigh. However, a glance at his mother's face made it obvious that she didn't believe him one bit. "Okay, maybe I did."
"And you still do by the looks of it. You don't have to look embarrassed, I always thought that it was cute, seeing you go all doe-eyed whenever you looked at her," his mother shook her head and laughed. "You might want to be quick, she's leaving within the hour. And honey?"
"Yeah?" James picked up the tray.
"Try to keep your tongue in your mouth," she joked, waving as James made a hasty exit.
James swore when his knee collided with the wooden post of the porch as he burst through the front door, cautiously making his way down the steps and along the path of the front yard.
Making it onto the sidewalk, his track and field training came into sudden use as a small contingent of kids came barreling towards him, forcing him to leap back and forth between them to avoid an unwanted accident. He hopped out of the path of a would-be quarterback who ran at full-force along the sidewalk with a football lodged under his arm. With his path clear, James went on his way.
A short walk brought him to the elaborate pathway that led up to the opulent three-storey home that belonged to Ms. Mizukawa, a building that was one of the most eye-catching homes in the neighbourhood. Roses and flowers of every variety covered the length of the front yard, the result of years of cultivation and painstaking maintenance; the work of a skilled gardener.
Satomi Mizukawa had divorced her ex-husband and reverted back to her original last name just after James hit middle school, long enough ago for him to forget what the man looked like entirely. Not that he minded, the only thing he could really remember about her ex-husband was his grouchy demeanour. Ms. Mizukawa had always been the complete opposite of her long-since discarded husband, a woman who never failed to exude a feeling of warmth to anyone she came into close contact with.
She was in her early forties, but James had been convinced for much of his life that Ms. Mizukawa simply didn't age, possessing a vibrancy that made her seem almost two decades younger than her true age. Ms. Mizukawa had left Japan not long after finishing college with her mind set on making a life for herself in America, but soon put her career ambitions on hold when she met the man who would become her husband. In the two decades that she lived in the Midwest, she had gotten married, purchased her own home, and became a mother to twin boys, both three years older than James, with the pair both into their second to last year at college.
Although James struggled to find anything in common with them, he always found himself acting as a lightning rod of affection for their mother, something the twins were all too thankful for as they grew up and yearned for their own independence, happy to offer up James as the sacrificial lamb for their mother to smother. Once the twins flew the nest and after her divorce was finalized, much of her time was spent at her accountancy firm, with James's encounters with the woman becoming less and less frequent in the time that followed.
It became a routine for James's friends to invite themselves around to his house whenever they could, with many hoping to catch just the tiniest glimpse of the Japanese beauty next door. Feelings of guilt popped up whenever he recalled the times when he and his friends would spy on her from his bedroom window during the summer period, praying for the chance to witness Ms. Mizukawa sunbathing in her back yard before taking a dip in her expansive pool, always clad in a bikini a few sizes too small for her stunning body.
No matter how infrequent his visits with Ms. Mizukawa became as she devoted most of her time and energy into her career, he could always guarantee that he would see her during the various holidays throughout the year. Christmas and Easter were always times for her to show off her neighbourhood spirit, decking out her house with decorations and attractions that never failed to catch the attention and the imagination of both kids and adults alike, with James recalling one Christmas in particular where she had covered her front yard in enough massive inflatable mascots to cover up the usually immaculate lawn entirely.
James dashed up the the steps and swaggered up to the ornate front door, using the diamond-patterned stained glass window to ensure that not a hair was out of place. Reaching a hand out from beneath the large platter, James pressed the doorbell, taking a small step back as he waited for a reply. Barely half a minute passed before he heard the locks on the opposite side being clicked open.
"Is that you, James?" Ms. Mizukawa spoke flirtatiously as her head appeared between the crack of the door, with only the faintest hint of her original accent managing to creep through. Her face had been perfectly made-up, deep red lipstick highlighted her ivory white teeth, with a dusting of blush that accentuated her defined cheek bones. "How wonderful. It's been weeks since I last saw you."
"Oh, I'm not too early, am I?" James asked, swallowing as he received a calming smile in return. "It's just that mom wanted me to give you a bunch of these cookies. She would have brought them herself, but she's busy stopping the kitchen from catching fire."
"James, you know that there's no such thing as being too early or too late in my home, especially for you," she replied with a quick wink, gratefully taking the wrapped platter from James. "In fact, you couldn't have arrived at a better time. Come in."
