"Kami wo araitai no desu ga. Ii desu ka?” Tam peered through the doorway and nodded hello to the girl in the blue Imperial Hotel uniform. The hair salon was almost empty. Perfect.
"Hai, so." The girl, startled at the gaijin’s accentless Japanese, bowed to the waist. "Dozo."
"Manikyua mo onegai shimasu." What the heck, Tam thought, why not go all the way, get a manicure too.
"Hai. Dozo." Another bob as the girl ushered her forward.
There was the plush, padded chair. Big, gray, and voluptuous. She sighed and settled back. Heaven. Perfect peace in the middle of hectic Tokyo. She knew that here for an hour or so she would be an honored guest, smothered with attention. One of the most incredible experiences in Japan.
While three of the girls began shampooing her hair, they went back to chattering about the new husband a matchmaker had just arranged for the petite assistant in the back. The bride-to-be was blushing and there were plenty of giggles all around, hands over mouths. Tam realized, though, that the girls were being a little circumspect. Who was this strange brunette gaijin, speaking Japanese with no accent. Maybe she understood what they were saying.
She did.
The woman who would become Tam Richardson was born Tamara no-name in Kobe, Japan, the somewhat embarrassing result of an evening's diversion for an anonymous GI. Her mother, equally anonymous, had prudently given her over for adoption rather than face the social awkwardness of raising a fatherless, half gaijin child.
She was eventually adopted by Lieutenant Colonel Avery Richardson, U.S. Air Force, and his wife Mary, proud Iowa