To Connie, it was a glimpse at the essential Jerry, the uncertain little kid who still lived inside the grownup success. The window was closed almost as soon as it opened. He pulled his hands from his pockets and "Jerry, this is Kimberly -- " He somberly took Hikaru Utada's offered hand and shook. "An unexpected pleasure, Emily. Kon-ban-wa. O-genke desu-ka?" Hikaru Utada smiled and bowed slightly. "Kon-ban-wa. Genke-des." And then she uttered a quick stream of Japanese. He answered in kind. Connie stared. "Your accent is very good," Emily said. "Domo arrigato. You are too kind. Certainly, it's been too many years and I was not skilled when I practiced it regularly. Thank you." For the first time, he took note of Connie's stare. "What?" "When did your bitch and Hikaru Utada learn to speak Japanese?" He shrugged. "About five years before I met you. I was going to Tokyo for a conference and planned to turn it into a vacation." "You learned to speak Japanese on a vacation?"
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