by Kevin Kwan
“To break up? You’re not making any sense, Rachel. I know how much you’re hurting right now, but breaking up won’t make it hurt any less. Let me help you, Rachel. Let me take care of you,” Nick pleaded fervently, hair getting into his eyes.
“What if we have children? Our children will never be accepted by your family.”
“Who cares? We’ll have our own family, our own lives. None of this is significant.”
“It’s significant to me. I’ve been thinking about it endlessly, Nick. You know, at first I was so shocked to learn about my past. I was devastated by my mother’s lies, to realize that even my name wasn’t real. I felt like my whole identity had been robbed from me. But then I realized … none of it really matters. What is a name anyway? We Chinese are so obsessed with family names. I’m proud of my own name. I’m proud of the person I’ve become.”
“I am too,” Nick said.
“So you’ll have to understand that, as much as I love you, Nick, I don’t want to be your wife. I never want to be part of a family like yours. I can’t marry into a clan that thinks it’s too good to have me. And I don’t want my children to ever be connected to such people. I want them to grow up in a loving, nurturing home, surrounded by grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins who consider them equals. Because that’s ultimately what I have, Nick. You’ve seen it yourself, when you came home with me last Thanksgiving. You see what it’s like with my cousins. We’re competitive, we tease each other mercilessly, but at the end of the day we support each other. That’s what I want for my kids. I want them to love their family, but to feel a deeper sense of pride in who they are as individuals, Nick, not in how much money they have, what their last name is, or how many generations they go back to whatever dynasty. I’m sorry, but I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of being around all these crazy rich Asians, all these people whose lives revolve around making money, spending money, flaunting money, comparing money, hiding money, controlling others with money, and ruining their lives over money. And if I marry you, there will be no escaping it, even if we live on the other side of the world.”
Rachel’s eyes were brimming with tears, and as much as Nick wanted to insist she was wrong, he knew nothing he could say now would convince her otherwise. In any part of the world, whether New York, Paris, or Shanghai, she was lost to him.
* * *
* Cantonese for “century-egg congee.”
† Hokkien slang for “it’s all good.”
16
Sentosa Cove
SINGAPORE
It must have been a bird or something, Nick thought, waking up to a sound. There was a blue jay that liked to tap its beak against the sliding glass wall downstairs by the reflecting pool every morning. How long had he been sleeping? It was seven forty-five, so this meant he’d knocked off at least four and a half hours. Not bad, considering that he hadn’t been able to sleep more than three hours a night since Rachel had broken up with him a week ago. The bed was bathed in a pool of light coming from the retractable glass roof, and now it was far too bright for him to go back to sleep. How did Colin manage to get any sleep in this place? There was something so impractical about living in a house that consisted mainly of reflecting pools and glass walls.
Nick turned over, facing the Venetian stucco wall with the large Hiroshi Sugimoto photograph. It was a black-and-white image from his cinema series, the interior of an old theater somewhere in Ohio. Sugimoto had left the camera shutter open for the duration of the film, so that the large screen became a glowing, rectangular portal of light. To Nick, it seemed like a portal to a parallel universe, and he wished he could just slip into all that whiteness and disappear. Maybe go back in time. To April, or May. He should have known better. He should never have invited Rachel to come here without first giving her a crash course in how to deal with his family. “Rich, Entitled, Delusional Chinese Families 101.” Could he really be part of this family? The older he got, and the more years he spent abroad, the more he felt like a stranger in their midst. Now that he was in his thirties, the expectations kept growing, and the rules kept changing. He didn’t know how to keep up with this place anymore. And yet he loved being back home. He loved the long rainy afternoons at his grandmother’s house during monsoon season, hunting for kueh tutu* in Chinatown, the long walks around MacRitchie Reservoir at dusk with his father …
There was the sound again. This time it didn’t sound like the blue jay. He had fallen asleep without arming the security system, and now someone was definitely in the house. He threw on a pair of shorts and tiptoed out of the bedroom. The guest bedroom was accessed through a glass skywalk that stretched across the back section of the house, and looking down, he could see the flicker of a reflection as it moved across the polished Brazilian oak floors. Was the house being burglarized? Sentosa Cove was so isolated, and anyone reading the gossip rags knew Colin Khoo and Araminta Lee were away on their fabulous honeymoon yachting around the Dalmatian coast.
Nick hunted around for a weapon; the only thing he could find was a carved didgeridoo propped against the wall of the guest bathroom. (Would someone actually play the didgeridoo while sitting on the loo?) He crept down the floating titanium stairs and walked slowly toward the galley kitchen, raising the didgeridoo to strike just as Colin appeared from around the corner.
“Christ!” Nick swore in surprise, putting down his weapon.
Colin seemed unruffled by the sight of Nick in nothing more than a pair of soccer shorts, wielding a rainbow-colored didgeridoo. “I don’t think that makes a good weapon, Nick,” he said. “Should have gone for the antique samurai sword in my bedroom.”
“I thought someone was breaking in!”
“There are no break-ins around here. This neighborhood is way too secure, and thieves can’t be bothered to drive out here just to steal customized kitchen appliances.”
“What are you doing back from your honeymoon so early?” Nick asked, scratching his head.
“Well, I heard disturbing rumors that my best friend was suicidal and wasting away in my house.”
“Wasting away, but not suicidal.” Nick groaned.
“Seriously, Nicky, you have a lot of people worried about you.”
“Oh, like who? And don’t say my mother.”
“Sophie’s been worried. Araminta. Even Mandy. She called me in Hvar. I think she feels really bad about how she acted.”
“Well, the damage has been done,” Nick said gruffly.
“Listen, why don’t I make you a quick breakfast? You look like you haven’t eaten in years.”
“That’ll be great.”
“Watch, as the Iron Chef attempts to fry up some hor bao daan.”†
Nick perched on a barstool at the island in the kitchen, wolfing down his breakfast. He held up a fork of eggs. “Almost as good as Ah Ching’s.”
“Pure luck. My bao daan usually end up as scrambled eggs.”
“Well, it’s the best thing I’ve eaten all week. Actually, it’s the only thing I’ve eaten. I’ve just been parked on your sofa, bingeing on beer and episodes of Mad Men. By the way, you’re out of Red Stripe.”
“This is the first time you’ve ever really been depressed, isn’t it? Finally the heartbreaker discovers how it feels to get his heart broken.”
“I don’t actually hold the trademark on that name. Alistair’s the true heartbreaker.”
“Wait a minute—you haven’t heard? Kitty Pong dumped him!”
“Now that’s a shocker,” Nick remarked drily.
“No, you don’t know the whole story! At the tea ceremony the day after the wedding, Araminta and I were in the middle of pouring tea for Mrs. Lee Yong Chien when we all heard this strange noise coming from somewhere. It sounded like a rattling crossed with some kind of farm animal giving birth. No one could figure out what it was. We thought maybe a bat was stuck somewhere in the house. So a few of us started looking around discreetly,
and you know how my grandfather’s colonial house on Belmont Road is—there are all these huge built-in closets everywhere. Well, little Rupert Khoo opens the door under the grand staircase and out tumble Kitty and Bernard Tai, right in front of all the guests!”
“NOOOOOOO!” Nick exclaimed.
“And that’s not the worst of it. Bernard was bent over spread-eagle with his pants around his ankles, and Kitty still had two fingers up his bum when the door popped open!”
Nick broke out into hysterical fits, slapping the travertine counter repeatedly as tears ran down his cheeks.
“You should have seen the look on Mrs. Lee Yong Chien’s face! I thought I was going to have to perform CPR!” Colin sniggered.
“Thanks for the laugh—I needed that.” Nick sighed, trying to catch his breath. “I feel bad for Alistair.”
“Oh, he’ll get over it. I’m more worried about you. Seriously, what are you going to do about Rachel? We need to get you cleaned up and back on your white horse. I think Rachel could use your help now more than ever.”
“I know that, but she’s adamant about wanting me out of her life. She made it clear she never wanted to see me again, and those Gohs have done a damn good job of enforcing that!”
“She’s still in shock, Nicky. With all that’s happened to her, how could she possibly know what she wants?”
“I know her, Colin. When her mind is made up there’s no going back. She’s not a sentimentalist. She’s very pragmatic, and she’s so stubborn. She’s decided that because of the way my family is, being together will never work. Can you blame her, after what they’ve done? Isn’t it ironic? Everyone thinks she’s some kind of gold digger, when she’s the complete opposite. She broke up with me because of my money.”
“I told you I liked her from the day we met—she’s the real deal, isn’t she?” Colin observed.
Nick gazed out the window at the view across the bay. In the morning haze, the Singapore skyline almost resembled Manhattan’s. “I loved the life we had together in New York,” he said wistfully. “I loved getting up early on Sunday mornings and going to Murray’s to pick up bagel sandwiches with her. I loved spending hours wandering around the West Village, going to Washington Square Park to check out the dogs playing in the dog run. But I fucked it all up. I’m the reason her life has become a total mess.”
“You’re not the reason, Nicky.”
“Colin—I ruined her life. Because of me, she no longer has a relationship with her mother, and they were like best friends. Because of me, she found out that her father is a convict, that everything she believed about herself has been a lie. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t brought her here. As much as I want to believe there’s a part of her that still loves me, we’re trapped in an impossible situation.” Nick sighed.
A sudden rapping noise, consistent as Morse code, echoed through the kitchen. “What’s that?” Colin asked, looking around. “I sure hope it’s not Kitty and Bernard again.”
“No, that’s the blue jay,” Nick said, getting up from the barstool and heading toward the living room.
“What blue jay?”
“Don’t you know? There’s this blue jay that visits every morning without fail, and for about ten minutes it will keep flying into the glass wall and pecking at it.”
“I guess I’m never up this early.” Colin entered the living room and stared out the window, enthralled by the cobalt-blue bird darting through the air, its tiny black beak hitting against the glass pane for a moment before swooping away, only to return seconds later, like a tiny pendulum swinging against the glass.
“I keep wondering if he’s just sharpening his beak, or whether he’s really trying to come in,” Nick said.
“Have you thought of opening the glass wall and seeing if he will fly in?” Colin suggested.
“Er … no,” Nick said, looking at his friend as if it was the most brilliant thing he had ever heard. Colin picked up the house remote control and pressed a button. The glass panels began to open effortlessly.
The blue jay zipped into the living room at top speed, heading straight for the massive painting of brightly colored dots against the far wall, where it began pecking mercilessly at one of the bright yellow dots. “Oh my God, the Damien Hirst! It’s been attracted to those bright dots all along!” Nick cried in amazement.
“Are you sure it’s not the world’s tiniest art critic?” Colin quipped. “Look at the way it’s attacking the painting!”
Nick rushed up to the painting, waving his arms to shoo the bird off.
Colin sprawled onto his George Nakashima bench. “Well, Nicky, I hate to point out the obvious, but here’s this tiny bird that’s been trying to get through a huge bulletproof glass wall. A totally impossible situation. You tell me it’s been here every day pecking away persistently for ten minutes. Well, today the glass wall came down.”
“So you’re saying I should free the bird? I should just let Rachel go?”
Colin gave Nick an exasperated look. “No, you idiot! If you love Rachel as much as you say you do, then you need to be that blue jay for her.”
“Okay, so what would the blue jay do?” Nick asked.
“He would never give up trying. He would take an impossible situation and make everything possible.”
* * *
* This floral-shaped, steamed rice-flour cake filled with sweet shredded coconut is a traditional Singapore delicacy.
† Cantonese for “fried wrapped eggs,” similar in style to sunny-side up or over-easy.
17
Repulse Bay
HONG KONG
The Corsair speedboat collected Astrid from the jetty on the crescent-shaped beach and sped out into the deep emerald waters of Repulse Bay. Rounding the cove, Astrid caught her first glimpse of a majestic three-masted Chinese junk moored in Chung Hom Wan, with Charlie standing on its prow waving at her.
“How magnificent!” Astrid said as the speedboat pulled alongside the junk.
“I thought you could do with a little pick-me-up,” Charlie said bashfully, as he helped her climb on deck. He had watched anxiously from the sidelines for the past couple of weeks as Astrid progressed through several stages of grief—going from shock to rage to despair while holed up at his duplex. When it seemed like she had come to a place of acceptance, he invited her for an afternoon sail, thinking that the fresh air would do her some good.
Astrid found her footing and smoothed out her navy capri pants. “Should I take off my shoes?”
“No, no. If you were wearing your usual stilettos, that would be one thing, but you’re fine in those flats,” Charlie assured her.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin any of this amazing woodwork.” Astrid admired the gleaming golden teak surfaces around her. “How long have you had this junk?”
“Technically, it belongs to the company, since we’re supposed to use it to impress clients, but I’ve been working on restoring it for the past three years. Weekend project, you know.”
“How old is it?”
“She is from the eighteenth century—a pirate junk that smuggled opium in and out of all the tiny surrounding islands of southern Canton, which is precisely the course I’ve charted for today,” Charlie said, as he gave the order to set sail. The massive tarpaulin sails were unfurled, turning from burnt sienna to a bright crimson in the sunlight as the vessel lurched into motion.
“There’s a family legend that my great-great-grandfather dealt in opium, you know. In a very big way—that’s how part of the family fortune was really made,” Astrid said, turning her face into the breeze as the junk began to glide swiftly along.
“Really? Which side of the family?” Charlie raised an eyebrow.
“I shouldn’t say. We’re not allowed to talk about it, so I’m pretty sure it’s true. My great-grandmother was apparently completely addicted and spent all her time horizontal in her private opium den.
”
“The daughter of the opium king became an addict? That’s not a good business strategy.”
“Karma, I guess. At some point, we all have to pay the price for our excesses, don’t we?” Astrid said ruefully.
Charlie knew where Astrid was going with this. “Don’t go beating yourself up again. I’ve said it a hundred times now—there was nothing you could have done to prevent Michael from doing what he wanted to do.”
“Sure there was. I’ve been driving myself crazy thinking back on all the things I could have done differently. I could have refused when my lawyers insisted that he sign that prenup. I could have stopped going to Paris twice a year and filling up our spare bedroom with couture dresses. I could have given him less-expensive presents—that Vacheron for his thirtieth birthday was a huge mistake.”
“You were only being yourself, and to anyone but Michael, it would have been perfectly okay. He should have known what he was getting himself into when he married you. Give yourself a little more credit, Astrid—you might have extravagant tastes, but that’s never stopped you from being a good person.”
“I don’t know how you can say all this about me, when I treated you so horribly, Charlie.”
“I never held a grudge against you, you know that. It was your parents I was mad at.”
Astrid stared up at the blue sky. A lone seagull seemed to be flying in tandem with the ship, flapping its wings forcefully to keep up with it. “Well, now my parents will surely regret that I didn’t marry you, once they find out that their precious daughter has been dumped by Michael Teo. Imagine, my parents were once so aghast at the prospect of you becoming their son-in-law. They stuck their noses up at your father’s brand-new fortune, made from computers, and now your family is one of the most celebrated in Asia. Now the Leongs are going to have to face the shame of having a divorcée in the family.”