The Hakone Mountain Inn – Part 1: Private Bath

"We're supposed to take our shoes off," whispered Paul.

"I know. I've been reading the guide."

"You've been reading it since Tokyo."

Joanna swatted him, then bowed to the smiling woman at the door, who bowed back, took their bags and slid open a paper screen. The room beyond was simple and beautiful: tatami floors, a low table, a window full of misty pines, and a small private balcony with a wooden bath steaming under the stars.

"That's ours?" breathed Joanna.

"I think it's ours."

They stood hand in hand like children. Joanna was forty-five, a nurse, and could not remember the last time she had been in a room with no one needing her. Paul, forty-eight, a high-school principal, laughed quietly at nothing.

They changed into cotton robes and ate a dinner of tiny dishes, each more beautiful than the last, served by the smiling woman, who vanished silently when finished. They drank warm sake. They giggled when Paul dropped a chopstick.

"We're twenty years into a marriage," said Joanna, "and I have no idea how to behave."

"We behave like we're at an inn."

"Is that a rule?"

"It is a very good rule." He took her hand across the low table. "I've missed this."

"What?"

"You, looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you remember who I was."

Joanna smiled, her eyes soft. "I remember very well. And I'd like to see who you are now." She glanced toward the balcony. "Shall we try the bath?"

Continue the story: Part 2 – Steam and Stars.

Continue the story: Part 2 – Steam and Stars.