The Crazy Rich Asians Trilogy Box Set

by Kevin Kwan

  Rachel couldn’t believe she was hearing those words. She stood by the doorway, suddenly feeling as if she were five years old again.

  Standing outside the cottage, Eleanor turned to her son and said in a rather choked-up voice, “Come on, let’s give them some privacy.”

  Nick, a little misty-eyed himself, answered, “That’s the best thing I’ve heard you say in a long time, Mum.”

  11

  FOUR SEASONS BILTMORE

  SANTA BARBARA, CALIFORNIA

  Comfortably ensconced in the hotel lounge with her requisite cup of hot water and lemon, Eleanor proceeded to recount to Nick the full story of how she came to discover Rachel’s real father.

  “Bao Shaoyen was so grateful to all of us in London. Your hopeless cousin Eddie left after a few days, after getting fitted for his new suits, and Shaoyen didn’t know a soul in London. So we took care of her. We took her to visit Carlton every day in the hospital while he was recovering from his surgeries, we took her to eat at the halfway decent Chinese restaurants, and Francesca even drove all of us to the Bicester Village outlets one day. Shaoyen was in seventh heaven when she discovered that they had a Loro Piana outlet store there. My God, you should have seen how much cashmere that woman bought! I think she had to buy three big suitcases at the Tumi outlet just to fit everything.

  “As soon as Carlton was out of intensive care, I encouraged Shaoyen to let him do his rehabilitation in Singapore. I even called up Dr. Chia at NUH to pull strings and get Carlton into the best physical therapy program. So of course Carlton’s father came down to visit from Beijing, and I got to know the family well over the next few months. Meanwhile, Auntie Lorena’s private investigator in China went to dig up everything he could on the family.”

  “Auntie Lorena and her shady investigators!” Nick scoffed, taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Alamak, you should be grateful Lorena hired Mr. Wong! Without his snooping around and paying off the right people, we would never have been able to get to the truth. It turned out that Bao Gaoliang had changed his name right after he graduated from university. Kao Wei was always a boyhood nickname—his actual name was Sun Gaoliang. He grew up in Fujian, but his parents made him take the surname of his godfather, who was a well-respected party official in Jiangsu Province, because then he could move there and get a better start to his career.”

  “So how did you break the news to the Baos?”

  “At one point, Shaoyen had to go back to China to attend to some business, and Gaoliang was alone in Singapore visiting Carlton. One night, I took him to have kai fun at Wee Nam Kee,*1 and I asked him about his younger days. He started to tell me about his college days in Fujian, so at one point I just blurted out, ‘Did you ever know a woman by the name of Kerry Ching?’ Gaoliang’s face went white as a ghost. He said, ‘I don’t know anyone by that name.’ Then he suddenly wanted to finish his dinner quickly and leave. That’s when I finally confronted him with the truth. I said, ‘Gaoliang, please don’t be alarmed. You can leave if you want, but before you do, please hear me out. I feel that fate has brought us together. My son is engaged to a woman by the name of Rachel Chu. Please let me show you her picture, and I think you will understand that something remarkable has happened.’ ”

  “What photo of Rachel do you have?” Nick asked.

  Eleanor blushed. “It’s the one from her California driver’s license that I got from the first detective I hired in Beverly Hills. Anyway, Gaoliang took one look at the photo and went into complete shock. He immediately asked, ‘Who is this girl?’ It’s just so obvious—the girl in the picture looks exactly like Carlton, but with long hair and makeup, of course. So I said, ‘That girl is the daughter of a woman who goes by the name of Kerry Chu. She now lives in California, but she used to live in Xiamen when she was married to a man by the name of Zhou Fang Min.’ And that’s when Gaoliang finally cracked.”

  “Wow. You should do this professionally,” Nick said with a raised eyebrow.

  “You can make fun of me all you want, but Rachel wouldn’t be meeting her father today if it wasn’t for my interfering.”

  “No, no, I wasn’t being sarcastic, I meant it as a compliment.”

  “I know you are still angry with me for all that’s happened, but I want you to know that everything I did, I did for your sake.”

  Nick shook his head indignantly. “How do you expect me to react? You almost ruined the love of my life. You didn’t trust my judgment, and you just assumed the worst of Rachel from the beginning. You thought she was a gold digger even before you met her.”

  “Hiyah, how many times can I say I’m sorry? I misjudged her. I misjudged you. Gold digger or not, I didn’t want you to marry Rachel because I knew that it would lead to heartache for you as soon as your grandmother became involved. I knew Ah Ma would never approve, and I wanted to spare you her wrath. Because once upon a time, I was that unacceptable daughter-in-law. And I was not even the daughter of a single mother from Mainland China! Believe me, I know what it feels like to suffer under her disapproval. But you never saw that side of her. I protected you from that. She adored you from the day you were born, and I never wanted that to change.”

  Nick noticed the tears brimming in his mother’s eyes, and he softened his stance. A waiter walked by, and Nick gestured to him. “Excuse me, could we please have another cup of hot water with lemon slices on the side? Thank you.”

  “Very hot, please,” Eleanor added, as she dabbed away her tears with the crumpled pieces of Kleenex she always seemed to have in her purse.

  “Well, I’m sure you know that Ah Ma plans to disinherit me now. Jacqueline Ling told me just as much a few weeks ago.”

  “That Jacqueline always does your Ah Ma’s dirty work! But you can never be sure what Ah Ma is going to do. Anyway, it doesn’t matter as much, because you have Rachel. I truly mean it now when I say I am very glad she is going to be your wife.”

  “My, how your tone has changed! I guess you don’t disapprove of Rachel now that you know her real father is some bigwig politician in China.”

  “He’s not just some politician. He is much more than that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Eleanor did a quick scan of the room to make sure no one could overhear her. “Bao Gaoliang’s father started Millennium Pharmaceuticals, one of the largest medical companies in China. The stock is a blue chip on the Shanghai Stock Exchange.”

  “So? I don’t understand how that impresses you. Everyone you know is rich.”

  Eleanor leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “Aiyah, these people aren’t just everyday rich with a few hundred million. They are China rich! We’re talking billions and billions. More important, they only have one son…and now one daughter.”

  “So that’s why you’re suddenly so keen on us getting married!” Nick groaned as his mother’s true motives finally dawned on him.

  “Of course! If Rachel plays her cards right, she will be a great heiress and you will benefit too!”

  “I’m so glad I can always count on you to have some sort of ulterior motive that involves money.”

  “I’m just looking out for you! Now that your inheritance from Ah Ma is so uncertain, you can’t blame me for wanting the best for you.”

  “No, I don’t suppose I can,” Nick said quietly. As frustrated as he was, he realized that he was never going to change his mother. Like so many of her generation, her entire existence revolved around the acquisition and preservation of fortune. It seemed like all her friends were in the same contest to see who could leave the most houses, the biggest conglomerates, and the fattest stock portfolios to their children after they died.

  Eleanor leaned in closer. “Now, here are some things you need to know about the Baos.”

  “I don’t need to hear any idle gossip.”

  “Aiyah, it’s not idle gossip! These are important details I’ve lea
rned just from being around them, and from what Mr. Wong found out—”

  “Stop right there! I don’t want to know,” Nick said emphatically.

  “Aiyah, I need to tell you for your own good!”

  “Give it a rest, Mum! Rachel just met her dad twenty minutes ago and now you want to spill all the secrets of his family? Your digging around and secrets are what almost ruined my relationship in the first place. It’s not fair to Rachel, and it’s not the way I want to begin my marriage.”

  Eleanor sighed. This son of hers was impossible. He was too stubborn and too self-righteous and couldn’t even see that she was trying to help him. Well, she would have to wait for another opportunity. Squeezing more lemon into her water and not making direct eye contact with her son, she asked, “So, is there a chance you’ll let your poor lonely mother come to her only child’s wedding tomorrow?”

  Nick was silent for a moment. “Let me talk to Rachel. I’m not sure whether she’s ready to roll out the red carpet after you just destroyed her wedding site, but I’ll ask.”

  Eleanor got up from the table in excitement. “I’m going to talk to the concierge right now. We’ll fix it. We’ll fly in all the wisteria in the world if we have to. I’ll make sure her wedding is back to perfection.”

  “I’m sure Rachel will appreciate that.”

  “And let me go call Dad. He should get on a plane right now. It’s still not too late for him to make it here by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “You know, I said I’d talk to Rachel. I didn’t promise anything,” Nick cautioned.

  “Aiyah, of course she will let me come! I can tell she is the forgiving type just by looking at her face. That’s the one good thing about her—she doesn’t have high cheekbones. Women with high cheekbones are very gow tzay.*2 Now, will you please do one thing for me?”

  “What?”

  “Pleeeease go to the barber shop and get your hair cut before tomorrow! It’s far too long and I can’t stand to see you on your wedding day looking like some chao ah beng.”*3

  * * *

  *1 Hainanese chicken rice, which could arguably be considered the national dish of Singapore. (And yes, Eleanor is ready for foodie bloggers to start attacking her restaurant choice. She chose Wee Nam Kee specifically because the United Square location is only five minutes from the Bao condo, and parking there is $2.00 after 6:00 p.m. If she took him to Chatterbox, which she personally prefers, parking at Mandarin Hotel would have been a nightmare and she would have had to valet her Jaguar for $15. Which she would RATHER DIE than do.)

  *2 No English words can properly do justice to this charming Hokkien term, which is used to describe people who are equal parts bitchy, unreasonable, stuck up, and impossible to deal with.

  *3 Hokkien for “stinky low-class gangster.”

  12

  ARCADIA

  MONTECITO, CALIFORNIA

  The late-afternoon sun hovered over the crest of the Santa Ynez Mountains, suffusing everything in a golden haze. The bamboo trellis had been fully restored to its former glory, creating a luxuriant canopy of hanging wisteria and jasmine over the central aisle, its delicately sweet scent wafting across the guests as they took their seats on the portico. With a neoclassical music pavilion carved from Tuscan stone as a backdrop and towering two-hundred-year-old oaks framing the gardens, the scene looked like something straight out of a Maxfield Parrish painting.

  At the appointed moment, Nick emerged from the pavilion with his best man, Colin, and took his place beside an arch majestically radiating with white dendrobium orchids. He surveyed the hundred or so guests, noticing that his father—just arrived from Sydney and wearing an extremely rumpled gray suit—was seated next to Astrid, while his mother was a row behind gossiping with Araminta, who had minutes ago caused a stir when she entered the portico in a show-stopping emerald green Giambattista Valli gown with a deconstructed-ruffle neckline that plunged all the way down to her navel.

  “Don’t fidget!” Astrid mouthed from the front row as Nick fussed nervously with his cuff links. She couldn’t help but recall the skinny boy in soccer shorts who used to run around with her in the gardens of Tyersall Park, scaling trees and jumping into ponds. They were forever inventing games and getting lost in fantasy worlds, Nicky always the Peter Pan to her Wendy, but now here he was, all grown up and looking utterly dashing in his celestial blue Henry Poole tuxedo, ready to create his own new world with Rachel. There would be great trouble to come once their grandmother found out about the wedding, but at least for tonight, Nicky was getting to marry the girl of his dreams.

  The wall of French doors at the front of the pavilion opened, and from inside a musician on a grand piano began to play a vaguely familiar melody as Rachel’s bridesmaids—Peik Lin, Samantha, and Sylvia, in pearl gray bias-cut silk dresses—began the procession up the aisle. Auntie Belinda, in a gold lamé St. John gown with matching bolero top, suddenly recognized that the pianist was playing Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” and began to sob uncontrollably into her Chanel handkerchief. Uncle Ray, mystified by his wife’s behavior, pretended not to notice and stared straight ahead, while Auntie Jin turned around and glared at her. “Sorry…sorry…Stevie just gets me every time,” Belinda whispered, trying to collect herself.

  After the pianist had finished, another surprise awaited the crowd as the lights inside the pavilion dimmed and a scrim hanging above the building came down, revealing a full ensemble of musicians from the San Francisco Symphony on the roof. The conductor raised his baton, and as the delicate opening strains of Aaron Copland’s “Appalachian Spring” began to fill the air, Rachel appeared at the steps of the portico on the arm of her uncle Walt.

  The wedding guests murmured in approval at the bride, who looked stunning in a figure-hugging gown of silk crepe de chine with delicate knife pleats that fanned out over the fitted bodice and a column skirt that draped across the front in romantic cascading folds. With her long, luxuriant hair worn down in loose curls and pinned on the sides with a pair of feather-shaped art deco diamond clips, she was the epitome of a relaxed, modern bride with just a touch of 1930s Hollywood glamour.

  Rachel clutched her bouquet of long-stemmed white tulips and calla lilies, smiling at all the people she knew. Then she caught sight of her mother seated in the front row next to Bao Gaoliang. She had of course insisted that Uncle Walt, who had always been the closest thing to a paternal figure, walk her down the aisle, but seeing her mother and father together like this stirred up a whole new set of emotions.

  Her parents were here. Her parents. She realized that this was the first time in her life that she could actually use that term properly, and her eyes began to well up. There goes that hour spent in the makeup chair. Just yesterday morning, she had almost given up hope of ever meeting her real father, but by the end of the day, she discovered that not only was her father alive and very much real but she also had a half brother. It was more than she could have ever hoped for, and in a strange roundabout way, she had Nick to thank for all of this.

  Bao Gaoliang couldn’t help but feel a peculiar sense of pride as he watched his daughter glide gracefully down the aisle. Here was a woman he had not met until yesterday, but already he could feel an undeniable connection with her, something he couldn’t seem to forge with his own son. Carlton and Shaoyen had a special bond that he was never able to penetrate, and he suddenly began to dread the conversation that he knew would take place when he returned to China. He had yet to discuss any of Eleanor Young’s revelations with Shaoyen, who thought he was on a diplomatic mission in Australia. How in the world was he ever going to explain all this to his wife and son?

  “I can’t believe how beautiful you look,” Nick whispered when Rachel reached his side.

  Rachel, too moved to say anything, simply nodded. She looked into the kind, beautiful, sexy eyes of the man she was about to marry and wondered whether this was all a dream.

 
; • • •

  After the ceremony, as the wedding guests adjourned to a reception inside the music pavilion, Eleanor sidled up to Astrid and began her commentary. “The only thing missing from that service was a good Methodist pastor. Where is Tony Chi when you need him? I didn’t really care for that we-are-all-nature Unitarian minister. Did you see he was wearing an earring? What sort of kopi-license* minister is he?”

  Astrid, who hadn’t spoken to Eleanor since her Apocalypse Now–style arrival the day before, gave her a sharp look. “Next time you plan on plying my child with a gallon of ice cream, you have to take him for the rest of the day. You have no idea how long it took us to pry him off the ceiling.”

  “Sorry, lah. But you knew I had to find out about the wedding. See? It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

  “I suppose so. But you could have spared everyone so much heartache.”

  Refusing to be any more contrite, Eleanor tried changing the subject. “Hey, did you help Rachel choose her dress?”

  “No, but doesn’t she look lovely?”

  “I find it a bit plain.”

  “I think it’s exquisitely simple. It looks like something Carole Lombard would have worn to a dinner party on the French Riviera.”

  “I find your dress much more striking,” Eleanor said, admiring Astrid’s cobalt blue halter-neck Gaultier outfit.

  “Aiyah, you’ve seen me in this a dozen times.”

  “I thought I recognized it! Didn’t you wear it to Araminta’s wedding?”

  “I wear it to every wedding.”

  “Why on earth do you do that?”

  “Don’t you remember Cecilia Cheng’s wedding years ago, when people couldn’t stop talking about my dress in front of her? I felt so bad, I decided from that day on to always wear the same dress to every wedding.”