Short Soup

by Coleen Kwan

  And maybe a cold shower wouldn’t be a bad idea either.

  As he hustled into his house, the phone started to ring.

  “Where are you?” his dad grumbled as soon as he picked up the call. “I’m at the restaurant. Why aren’t you?”

  Dion sucked in his stomach. His father wasn’t supposed to be at the restaurant. The entire relaunch was meant to be Dion’s baby, but of course his dad couldn’t help himself interfering. “I’m just going to take a shower and I’ll be right over,” Dion said evenly.

  His dad snorted. “So much work to do and you taking shower? How you going to be ready tomorrow?”

  Dion gritted his teeth. “Dad, it’s my responsibility. Let me handle it.”

  “I don’t know if you’re ready.”

  “Dad, just give me a proper chance, why don’t you? I won’t let you down.”

  His father groused further, but eventually hung up. Dion tilted back his head and let out a deep sigh. He stood for a while, flexing his toes against the cool floorboards, his thoughts returning compulsively to Toni despite his best intentions. He should focus on the restaurant and forget about Toni for a while. But he knew he couldn’t. After all these years she was back, and available.

  Blood thumped in his veins. He exhaled a long breath. Somehow he didn’t think the cold shower would do it for him.

  Chapter 2

  “Aiya, you too thin. Sit down. I make you something to eat.”

  A lump lodged in Toni’s throat. Trust her mum to greet her as if nothing had happened. She gave her mum another hug. At sixty-five Pearl Lau was as energetic as ever, her hair still defiantly permed and coloured. She was dressed in her usual outfit of polyester slacks – beige because of the season – and bright floral top, covered by a blue and white checked pinafore. A heavy jade bracelet weighed on her reed-thin wrist.

  The sight of her mother’s fragile wrist thickened the lump in Toni’s throat. “Mum, are you okay?”

  “Of course, of course.” Pearl bustled around her kitchen, pulling things out of the fridge. “What you want to eat? You want me to make short soup? I got some nice wonton here. It’s for tonight, but I can steal a few for you.”

  “Actually, I’m not very hungry.”

  Pearl shot her a frown over the open fridge door. “You eat McDonald’s already? That’s not proper food.”

  “No, I’m just not hungry. I’d love a cup of tea, though.” She slid into a chair at the Formica table while her mother put on the kettle. A small vase on the table held a posy of plastic flowers. The kitchen floor looked like it had been mopped twice over that day. Her parents’ modest three-bedroom ranch-style house screamed seventies – aluminium sliding windows, exposed brickwork, slate floors. It had barely changed since she was born. Even those plastic flowers were the same. “Where’s Dad?” Toni asked.

  “Buying wine.”

  Toni wrinkled her forehead. “Rice wine?”

  “No, char-do-nay wine. For you, for tonight. Margaret River Chardonnay. It’s your favourite wine. You said so last time you were here.” Her mother busied herself making the tea and pulling out mugs and milk.

  Nick had taught her about wine, as he had so many other things. His father was a banker, his mother an interior designer, and Nick had grown up in a sophisticated, cosmopolitan environment – whereas she had arrived at university green, impressionable, and keen to absorb everything. Nick had said her naivety was adorable, but he’d also taken pleasure in teaching her the “proper” way to do things. He’d instructed her how to dress, drink wine, discuss politics, please him in bed – and she’d been a willing student, eager for his praise for her “improvements”.

  “I only said I liked that wine because of Nick,” she said. Now, it nauseated her to remember how enthralled she’d been with him.

  “You don’t like chardonnay?”

  “Uh, it’s okay,” she replied. Her father was buying the wine to cheer her up, but she didn’t have the heart to confess she hated the stuff nowadays.

  Four years ago she and Nick had spent the weekend here at Piper Bay, just before they’d left for London. The details of the visit were a blur now, but she could remember the roller coaster feeling inside her stomach, that sensation of teetering between euphoria and despair. All weekend she’d clung to Nick’s side, laughing at his jokes, anxious to please him, desperate to act as a buffer between him and her parents. She’d been so bright and chirpy, but underneath the shiny veneer had lurked a fear that everything was slipping from her grasp. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, the warning signs of that last trip were obvious. The more she’d cleaved to Nick, the more he’d withdrawn from her. Maybe seeing her in her home setting had put him off. Maybe he was tired of her clinginess. Maybe he’d already stopped loving her then.

  “Oh, Mum,” she found herself choking. “What a mess I’ve made.”

  “Ah, ah, ah.” Her mother grabbed hold of her hand and squeezed it hard. Toni blinked fiercely until the blurriness faded from her eyes. She’d shed enough tears over Nick. He wasn’t worth it. She made herself sit straighter as her mother’s fingers tightened like a nutcracker around hers.

  “Thanks.” Toni swiped away the last remaining moisture from her eyelashes.

  Pearl muttered an expletive in Cantonese. Toni stared at her. It was the first time she’d ever heard her mother swear in any language.

  Her mother jutted out her chin. “I always know he wasn’t right for you.”

  “You never said anything like that. You said you liked Nick.”

  Pearl clicked her tongue as she pushed a mug of tea towards Toni. “Of course I say that. I’m your mother.”

  Toni took a sip of tea then thunked the mug down on the table, causing a drop of tea to spill out. “So tell me how you knew he wasn’t right for me. Is it because he’s not Asian? Is that it?”

  Her mother rose, collected a damp cloth from the sink and cleaned up the spilt tea. “That got nothing to do with it,” she answered. “You never go out with Chinese boy. I never say anything.”

  That was true, Toni conceded. Her mother had told her off for plenty of things but never for failing to bring home a Chinese boy. Things were different now, but during her childhood Piper Bay had been ninety per cent Anglo-Saxon. The Happy Palace had been the only Asian restaurant in the place. At school she and Dion had been the only Asians in their class year. Her pragmatic mother had probably realised long ago there was very little choice in the matter.

  “So what, then?” Toni doggedly persisted. It didn’t make any difference now, but she wanted to know what her mother had thought all along.

  Pursing her lips, Pearl continued to wipe the already pristine table. “You too anxious to make him happy. He not anxious enough. Marriage is give and take, but you give too much and Nick take too much. How can you be happy together?”

  Toni opened her mouth to protest, but the dull ache in her chest told her her mother was right. Hadn’t she already felt that imbalance in their relationship during their last visit here? She lifted the mug, but her hand was shaking too much and she was forced to lower it.

  Her mother leaned forward, pressing her hand on the table to emphasise her point. “You make mistake marrying Nick, but you still young. Now you have another chance, you pick better this time.”

  “Mum, I’ve only just got divorced. I don’t want to pick anyone!”

  “You change your mind soon.”

  Toni pushed out her lower lip. “Not soon. Not for a very long time.”

  Her mother heaved a sigh. “Look at me. I’m not spring chicken any more. I’m waiting for grandchildren, just like your Aunt Queenie.”

  Toni frowned. Aunt Queenie was Dion’s mum. Not technically her aunt, but as close as any real relative. Queenie and Pearl were the same age. In their late thirties they’d both been childless and had more or less given up hope of ever being mothers, until a relative had sent Queenie a packet of evil-smelling Chinese herbs. Within a year she’d fallen pregnant, and six months la
ter so had Pearl. The story of their miracle births had been related to Toni and Dion ad infinitum.

  “I’m sure Dion won’t disappoint his mum,” Toni said. “He’s always got some girlfriend hanging off his arm.”

  “Not any more. He’s too busy with the restaurant. No time for girls.”

  No time for girls? An image of Dion drifted into her mind – his taut biceps and muscled legs, his warm brown eyes and white teeth. All that hunkiness going to waste. Such a shame. Wait, what was she thinking? She nipped the inside of her cheek but couldn’t stop her train of thought. Dion had always liked women. A lot. She couldn’t believe he had no time for girls.

  “That can’t be right,” she said. “Maybe he’s hiding a girlfriend from you and Aunt Queenie, just to avoid your inquisitive questions.”

  Pearl’s jaw dropped. “He wouldn’t do that, aiya! Not Dion.”

  Toni almost rolled her eyes. For as long as she could remember Dion had been the golden boy to her mother and Aunt Queenie. In their eyes he could do no wrong.

  “No, he’s very busy at the restaurant.” Grabbing the empty mugs, Pearl began to wash them up at the sink. She hated having dirty crockery around the place. Toni got up to help her, but Pearl waved her back to her seat. “Dion got big plans for that place. You see it tomorrow. Lots of people coming to the party. Dion prepare all the food himself. He’s good cook. Almost better than me.”

  “Better than you?” Toni couldn’t help teasing her mother.

  “Almost, almost! Heh.” Chuckling, Pearl wiped the mugs dry and stacked them away. “Good thing Dion take over restaurant. More free time for me and Aunt Queenie and your dad and Uncle Kai. We’re not young any more. Your dad got problem with his varicose veins. Uncle Kai got high blood pressure. Doctor tells him to slow down.”

  For decades the Laus and the Chans had run the Happy Palace, taking turns to mind the children at home. They’d opened for lunch and dinner six days a week all year round with each family taking a week’s holiday during the slow winter months. The restaurant had consumed eighty per cent of their time for most of their lives, and now they were suddenly going into semi-retirement.

  “You’ll still be helping out at the restaurant, won’t you?” Toni asked.

  “Only when it’s busy. Dion hire new staff.”

  “What are you going to do with yourselves?”

  “Lots of things. Aunt Queenie and me are taking zumba classes. The husbands are going to play golf.”

  Zumba? Golf? What was going on here? “I give you a month – two months tops – before one or other of you start interfering with the restaurant. Poor Dion doesn’t know what he’s in for. The four of you will be breathing down his neck, telling him how to do things.”

  Pearl looked offended. “We trust Dion. He’s very good boy.”

  Toni dropped her gaze to her fingers clasped together on the table top. Somehow every time the conversation touched on Dion she had a strange squirmy feeling in her stomach. That meeting at Fly Point had stirred up something in her, something she didn’t care to examine too closely. She hadn’t even mentioned to her mother that she’d run into Dion earlier.

  Wiping her hands on a dish towel, Pearl sat down next to her and cleared her throat. “Are you upset we handed the restaurant over to Dion without talking to you?” she asked, a worried frown pleating her forehead. “Your bahba and I thought you wouldn’t mind. You have good career in accounting. You never liked working in the restaurant, and you don’t even enjoy cooking. But if you have a problem we can talk to Dion. Tonight, ah?”

  “No!” Toni sat bolt upright in her chair. “Of course I don’t mind about the restaurant.”

  “You don’t?” Her mother still looked doubtful.

  “Dion is welcome to the Happy Palace. He’s made his life here.” He belonged here in Piper Bay, whereas she … well, she didn’t exactly know where she belonged. All her career prospects were in Sydney. At the moment she was staying with a friend, but once she landed a good job, she would find her own apartment. All signs indicated her future lay in Sydney, and she’d only be coming up to Piper Bay for the occasional weekend or holiday. “My life is in Sydney,” she said aloud as if to convince herself.

  Pearl tilted her head to one side, toying with the sugar basin in the middle of the table. “Maybe you could move back here,” she said almost shyly.

  Toni blinked. “And what would I do here?” she cautiously replied.

  “Everybody need a good accountant.” Pearl lifted her shoulders. “Lots of new businesses here, lots of new people. They all need help with their taxes.”

  Toni bit her lip. What her mother was describing was basic bookkeeping. In London she’d been involved in risk management, dealing with staggeringly large sums of money. She’d worked hard and excelled at her job. It had been an intense, rewarding environment, and she wasn’t sure she could settle for helping people fill in their tax returns, as much as that was a necessary service.

  “You don’t have to live here with us,” her mother continued to wheedle. “You can rent one of those new apartments or maybe a house. Dion got a nice house with water views. Maybe he can help you find a place. Ask him when he comes over tonight.”

  “Mum, listen to me.” She leaned across the table to emphasise her words. “I’m not moving back here. Next week I’ve got a job interview in Sydney, a well-paying job with good prospects. That’s where I want to be.”

  Her mother pressed her lips together. She looked like she wanted to continue the argument, but after a few moments she nodded and let out a sigh. “We all happy here in Piper Bay, but we always know your future is bigger than this town. I don’t mind you live far away. I just want you to be happy.”

  Toni’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s not what you used to say. Before, it was always study hard, get good grades, go to university, establish a career. What happened to all that advice?”

  Pearl lifted her shoulders. “That all good advice I give you. Now I give you more good advice.”

  Toni rested her chin on her hand and sighed. If her mother had simply insisted she pursue a certain career or marry a certain kind of man, it might have been easier to fulfil her wishes. Being happy was a much harder task.

  Toni opened the door and grinned at Dion. “You’re just in time. Dinner’s on the table already.”

  Dion’s chest twinged at the sight of Toni. She’d changed into a pink cotton dress with thin straps and a long hem skimming her ankles. The soft fabric hugged her breasts and waist, pulling his gaze to her cleavage where her turquoise and silver pendant dangled. Her hair was pulled off her shoulders into a ponytail, exposing the clean lines of her neck and jaw line. He found himself gulping. She looked even better than this afternoon. Then, he’d caught her off guard, but now she seemed back in control, her breezy greeting putting him in his place.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to keep everyone waiting,” he said, stepping into the Laus’ hallway. He automatically removed his shoes and felt the cool tiles beneath the soles of his feet.

  In the dining room adjacent to the kitchen his parents were already seated at the table. Toni’s father beckoned him to sit down as Toni’s mother brought in a final dish from the kitchen. Dion slid into a seat next to Toni and tucked his legs under his chair. Over the years they must have shared thousands of dinners like this. Everything was so familiar. A white table cloth covered the table, and over that was a clear plastic covering because it was easier to wipe clean. On the table were several dishes – chow mein, roast duck, char siu, gai lan, wonton soup – and a huge pot of steaming white rice. Enough food for eight or ten people, the only concession to the warm weather being a side salad of iceberg lettuce and tomato. A family dinner like so many others. Except he didn’t feel his usual self.

  He darted a glance in Toni’s direction. Sitting beside her, he couldn’t get a good view of her face, but he was all too aware of her body just a few inches away from him, close enough so he could catch a hint of her perfume every now and the
n. He felt like leaning in for a better sniff. The smooth skin of her neck fascinated him. What would she taste like? He found himself tilting closer, then jerked back as she swung round towards him.

  “Dion? You want some duck?”

  He realised she was holding the platter of meat towards him. “Uh, yeah.” Confused, he helped himself to a few pieces. Barely hungry, he forced in a few mouthfuls.

  Across the table his mother narrowed her eyes on him. “New shirt, ah?”

  He nodded, pretending his mouth was too full to allow speech. Not for anything would he admit he’d been late because he’d changed his shirt three times, unable to decide which one was right. He couldn’t remember when last he’d done that.

  His mother’s eyes narrowed even further. “Where’s the shirt I bought you?” She nodded towards Toni’s mother. “I got it at Myers in Newcastle. Expensive brand. On sale, fifty per cent off.”

  Also striped tomato-red bright enough to sear his eyeballs. He’d long ago given up trying to tell his mother about his fashion preferences. To her, the fifty per cent discount more than made up for the shirt’s garishness.

  “It’s a bit hot for summer,” he improvised.

  His mother shook her head and muttered something to Pearl.

  Beside him, Toni whispered to him, “Is it bad?”

  “Thick red and white vertical stripes. I look like a bloody barber shop quartet.”

  She smothered a chortle. “You’ll have to ‘accidentally’ shrink it in the wash.”