“Be sure to tell your grandpa to come by the bar next time he’s out. I’ll give him a good deal. It’s the Blue River, right in front of the station.” I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected the bar was some kind of cabaret chain. “Are there any bonsai there?” “Why?” “Grandpa prefers bonsai to women, that’s why.” Mitsuru’s mother didn’t know quite what to make of my joke and craned her neck around to say something to me, but whatever it was I didn’t hear, because by then Mitsuru had already slammed the door shut. She held her umbrella over me while I unfolded my own.
