“You know what’s so hard?” Evan asked. He covered his wife’s hand. “No, don’t think about it. I’ll work everything out.” His curly brown hair, still untouched by gray, stood on end in front, a signal that he’d pushed at it repeatedly, as he always did when he was troubled.
Sara massaged his arm. “Tell me, Evan. We’ve got to get through this.”
He leaned to rest his forehead on the window. “Right now, I feel like I’m breaking up. Why didn’t she feel she could tell us what she intended to do? What did I do wrong? I always thought she loved me. I sure love her, Sara. How I love her.”
The tears that slid down Sara’s cheeks were hot. Her throat ached. “Donna loves you,” she managed to say. “Perhaps she was afraid you’d be hurt if you found out she wanted to know her…to know this other man.”
He looked down at her, his own dark eyes glistening. She saw him grit his teeth before he pulled her into his arms. “She’s hurt you too, Sara, and she should never have done that. Damn her, and damn Bruce. Wait till I get my hands on that—”
“Shhh,” Sara whispered against his chest. “Shhh, sweetheart. From what Mark said, Bruce didn’t have any idea Donna was acting without our approval. None of them did.”
Evan smoothed back Sara’s sleek dark hair, and moved her away until he could look into her gray-blue eyes. They’d been married six years, yet as always, he was struck afresh by the passion she aroused in him, as well as the desire to protect her. This debacle with Donna had to be his fault, and he’d iron it out. Sara had suffered enough over the years coping with Prairie Crawford. She’d coped very well, and he’d do as well with Raymond Tsung, but not without making sure Donna appreciated both what a wonderful mother she had, and the desperate unhappiness she’d caused through her own deceit.
“I’d better call back, darling,” he said, his stomach clenched. “I couldn’t go on talking before. Mark will be on pins and needles waiting, poor guy. I don’t blame him, or Laura.”
“Don’t blame anyone, Evan. It won’t help.”
He kissed her, pressed his cheek to hers, and kissed her again before he went to a phone.
There were several rings before he heard Donna’s voice. For a second his mind blanked, then he swallowed and held the receiver in both hands. “I’m glad you had the guts to at least speak to me yourself this time,” he said.
“Dad—”
“Don’t talk, Donna. I can’t talk to you now. You can do your explaining in person. As soon as I clear the decks here, I’ll be down. I’ll let you know when I’m due in San Francisco. Goodbye.”
Donna stood there, holding the phone in a cold hand, until she heard the dial tone. Then she put it back in the cradle with a hurried gesture, as if she couldn’t get rid of it fast enough. She crossed her arms, and stared at a painting of flowers on the wall until the colors blurred. Dad was coming.
“Well, what…what’d he say?” Bruce asked.
“That was quick,” Mark murmured thoughtfully. “It was brave of you to answer, honey, but maybe you should have let me.”
“What did Evan say?” Laura asked softly, getting up and moving to stand beside Donna.
They were in the spacious white-and-peach-colored front hallway, where Donna had darted to answer the phone on the first ring. She looked at the phone again now and had to try twice before she could speak.
“He’s coming here. To San Francisco. As…as soon as he can. He’ll let me know when his plane is due.”
“He didn’t give you any idea when?” Mark persisted.
Donna shook her head. “He just said as soon as he cleared the decks. I think that’s what he said.” Her voice sounded hollow.
“He’s probably got some loose ends to tie up with the business,” Bruce muttered. He went to her and put an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll meet him when he comes, Donna. Don’t worry about it.”
“No, let me do it,” Mark interposed.
“Thanks, Mark,” Bruce said. He looked tired. “I know you’d go, and I know you’d say the right things. But this isn’t your problem—it’s mine. Evan will want to see me, anyway. All he knows about so far is Tsung. We all know he’ll have to be told the whole story. The sooner the better, and—”
“No, Bruce,” Laura interrupted. “I don’t agree. He needs to see a neutral face first. I’d better do it.” She turned to Donna. “I’m Evan’s old buddy, don’t forget. Your father and I go back a long way. He’s making million-dollar deals now, but he and I share memories of one-dollar deals. We used to pick up money from the grass or the pavement when people tossed small bills or coins down after our clown act. We went through a lot together. If anyone can talk to your father, I can.”
“No. It has to be me. I have to meet him.” Donna kept her eyes wide, determined not to let the tears spill over. She reached out to touch Laura lightly. “Daddy and I go back a long way too, don’t forget. And I’m the one who’s…who’s hurt him.” How unbelievable to utter those words and know that they were true. “So I’ll have to make it right somehow.”
Make it right? How could she ever make it right?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THEY WALKED FROM Fenton and Hunt to the Bank of Cathay, allowing themselves plenty of time to arrive by two. Donna’s earlier stage fright seemed to be gone, and she strode along confidently beside Bruce, her hand clasped in his.
She knew she looked all right. She and Laura had fussed for so long over what clothing she would wear today that she had almost been late for work. They had settled on her most sedate outfit, a plain gray suit she’d bought last year.
“I’ll just be pleasant, but as firm as it takes,” she said again. “He’ll understand, I’m sure.”
“Well, he was pretty thrilled at the idea of an unknown daughter, so don’t expect this to be too easy. You should be prepared for a little resistance to your bowing out as soon as you bow in.”
“I can handle it. Stop worrying, Bruce.” There was an underlying tone of desperation in her voice now. “By the time Dad gets here from Vancouver, I’m going to be ready to tell him he can forget the whole thing. That I’ve seen Mr. Tsung, and said hello and goodbye, that’s all.”
Bruce squeezed her hand. “Okay, love, if you say so. But be aware. Your Mr. Tsung didn’t get to be president of a bank by being unassertive. Here we are.”
He pushed open the door of the bank. Donna stepped briskly inside with Bruce right behind her. “Straight back.” He gestured ahead, and they went through the entry and past the desks and tellers’ cages. They passed a line of people waiting behind the brass rail for teller service and reached the elevators.
On the executive floor, Bruce took Donna into Tsung’s outer office. Miss Hu looked up from her typewriter and quickly rose to her feet. She bowed slightly in their direction, and smiled vividly.
“Mr. Tsung is waiting for you. Please go right in.” The gateway slid back. She must have buzzed the inner office, for Mr. Tsung swung wide his door and stood back to let them enter his office.
“Mr. Tsung,” Bruce said smoothly. “This is Donna. You said two. We walked, so I hope we’re not late.” He knew they weren’t; he was just making conversation, Donna realized with gratitude.
Her mouth had gone totally dry because, before she was really ready for it, she was facing the man who had fathered her. The pleasant little speech she had rehearsed was gone. Her mind was blank.
“Donna,” Tsung was saying softly. “Donna, what a lovely girl you are. Come over here.” And somehow the hand she had held out was in his and he was pulling her toward the window. He looked at her keenly for a moment, then dropped her hand. “Ah, my dear, this is not a day for tears,” he said in the same gentle tone, and Donna realized, as his image blurred, that her eyes had filled. She felt a tremulous sense of eagerness, of expectation, of uneasiness, all mingled together. She had not anticipated this, an emotional reaction to this stranger. She had expected anything but that. But he was not a stranger. He had the same opaque dark eyes s
he had, and they were set the same way hers were. And her teeth had been slightly crooked, the same way his still were, before her mom and dad had paid the earth to get them straightened.
What is it? she thought wildly for a moment. What am I feeling? Then she knew, without even first forming the thought coherently. I am feeling kinship. She wasn’t the different one with this man, as she was different from her mother and father and brother. There was the same sense here of connectedness, of clannishness. It was like reaching out to like, and both of them were aware of the relatedness. She hadn’t counted on that, and felt a flood of shame and guilt because of it, remembering her parents. It wasn’t fair to them.
“Come, come, let’s sit down over here. Miss Hu has made us some tea. We must get acquainted a bit. What a momentous day!” He led them to a grouping of soft gray easy chairs surrounding a heavy lacquered table on which sat an exquisite blue tea set. He seated her in one of the chairs, and he and Bruce took the other two.
“It’s going to be almost sacrilegious, drinking out of these cups,” Bruce said.
“Ah. You like them? Yes. They are very old.” Tsung lifted one delicate azure porcelain cup between blunt fingers. “I’m trying to remember where I got these, and I can’t. It must mean my wife put them here. She decorated my office when I was made president five years ago.” He lifted the pot and began to pour out a thin stream of pale liquid into the cups.
“She did a lovely job,” Bruce said, looking around and nodding.
“Yes, lovely,” Donna echoed politely. Her poise was returning, but she still felt shaky, and she waited a moment before picking up her tiny tea cup.
“I talked to my wife yesterday afternoon after you left, Mr. Fenton, and she was very pleased. Very pleased.”
Donna had the feeling that he would make conversation until he was sure her composure had returned. She felt she should say something to let him know it had.
“Was she very surprised?” she asked.
“Surprised…and delighted.” He coughed into a fist. “She called back twice last evening. Once to make sure I had sent out the picture by courier, and once so the boys could talk to me. Bruce, Mr. Fenton—”
“Bruce is fine,” Bruce said easily.
“Bruce gave me a photo he had in his billfold.” He smiled at Bruce. “You must call me Ray. All my friends do.” He sipped his tea.
Donna wondered what he had told his wife. She must know, surely, that he had had some romantic involvements before his marriage. A relationship or two. She wondered, also, what he had told the boys, how he would explain her to strangers if they learned of her existence. The last question, at least, was answered for her when Miss Hu entered with a sheaf of documents.
“I am most terribly sorry, Mr. Tsung, but Mr. Wing says you want to sign this, and he has to take it to Chicago.”
He rose. “Yes, yes, thank you, Miss Hu. I promised I would. Is he out there? Ask him in. But wait, I want you to meet my daughter, Donna, the girl I told you about, the daughter of my first marriage.”
Miss Hu gave Donna her brilliant smile and bowed again. So he was passing off his relationship with poor little Prairie as an early marriage. Well, perhaps it was the kindest way; still, it seemed unlikely that the present Mrs. Tsung or any close relatives would actually accept the explanation.
She and Bruce both stood up to meet Mr. Wing, who was very old and looked as fragile as bone china. Tsung made the same introduction he’d made to Miss Hu, and the old man showed every evidence of delight.
“Will you take her around the office?” he asked Tsung. “The whole place is buzzing, you know.”
Tsung laughed. “I don’t know how it is at Fenton and Hunt, Bruce, but nothing beats the office grapevine here for getting news around.”
Smiling graciously at the frail Mr. Wing, Donna thought, I haven’t given my little speech. Almost as soon as Mr. Wing and Miss Hu were gone, she recited what she’d planned to say.
“I’m glad to come over and meet you today, sir. It didn’t seem right to be in San Francisco and not at least say hello.” That wasn’t exactly right, she thought, but close enough.
“Of course. And you were correct. I can never tell you how happy it has made me. Are you up to meeting the others now? My staff will never forgive me if I don’t take you around the office.”
Donna wasn’t sure she wanted a tour, but somehow they were in his outer office, with Miss Hu beaming at them, and she was meeting a Mrs. Taylor, and a Miss Woo, and two men named Wong, and then a young girl, Jenny, pushing a cart loaded with folders. She would never remember all their names. She was breathing a faint sigh of relief as they reached the end of the group, when Tsung said, “Okay. Now let’s go down to the others.”
“The others?” Donna echoed. And so began an hour and a half pilgrimage down through the bank building, to visit all the departments. She and Bruce met the vicepresidents and their secretaries, all the loan officers, all the people in first and second mortgages, personal loans, car loans and business loans. Next they met the people in accounting, and the people in collections, and the people in advertising. And Raymond Tsung knew everybody by name, and sometimes tossed in a little question or comment like, “And how is Johnny’s leg?” or “Please tell your mother I asked about her.” Donna’s head was swimming by the time they finally reached the basement of the building, where they met the janitorial staff, who were just coming to work.
She had met all four of the janitors when the elevator doors opened and the beautiful Miss Hu stepped out.
“Mr. Tsung, the man from Gump’s is here,” she said, standing elegantly between two metal mop buckets.
“Ah! Gump’s. Let’s not keep him waiting,” Tsung said. He hurried them into the elevator, which carried them swiftly and silently back up to the executive floor.
“I put him in your office,” Miss Hu said.
“Thank you, thank you. I want to give you a small gift, Donna,” he said as they went back into his office again.
She murmured, “Oh, no,” but her words were lost amid introductions to the man from Gump’s, whose name she did not catch. She was remembering how expensive a store Laura had said Gump’s was.
All over Tsung’s desk were arranged velvet jeweler’s boxes.
“Pick out something you like, my dear. A keepsake to remember the day we first met.” He turned to Bruce. “My wife went on and on about this last night. I was to select something highly suitable. Something girlish, but not too girlish for nineteen, and so on. I decided to let Donna choose her own gift. Don’t you think that was wise?”
Bruce laughed. “Very. What do you think, Donna?” Bruce came to her side, and she felt the touch of his arm against hers. He was trying to reassure her silently.
She stood looking down at the display, dumbfounded. There were three golden chains with large diamond pendants. She hastily looked away from those. Too expensive, Donna thought. She mustn’t take a valuable gift. She mustn’t obligate herself to this man, for she knew how her parents would feel. There were four pearl necklaces. She placed a hesitant finger on a creamy strand with a rosy glow.
“That’s lovely,” she murmured uncertainly, and there was an eager intake of breath, it seemed, from all the men. They were looking at her, waiting. She began to feel terribly embarrassed.
“This is jade, isn’t it?” she said, her hand hovering over one of several green jade necklaces.
“Yes. You like jade? Would you like to try one on?” Tsung asked.
“N…no.” She hesitated. Maybe jade was too costly. Then she noticed a simple, plain necklace of perfectly round lavender beads. It looked like the least expensive of the lot.
“This is pretty,” she said, picking it up carefully. She looked at the clasp. Metal. No diamonds or other precious stones. This was probably her best choice. “I…I would like this,” she said diffidently. “And it will go nicely with my gray suit,” she added inanely.
“Here. Let me.” Tsung reached for the necklace, and s
he turned around to let him fasten the delicate strand around her neck. “Now, let us look. What do you think, Bruce? It suits her, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Bruce said softly. “It does. Understated elegance, just the thing. Lavender jade.”
“Jade?” Donna said in a strangled little voice, but it was too late; the necklace was already hers. The man from Gump’s was shutting up his velvet boxes, preparing to leave.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you very much. It’s just lovely. We really must…Bruce…what time is it?” She was feeling desperate to leave.
Bruce laughed. “It’s after four. You can forget about going back to work. Meetings like this aren’t done in a minute.”
“No,” agreed Tsung. “And I want a picture. My wife said I had to bring the Polaroid to work today, and so I did. Miss Hu, where did I…?”
“Here it is, Mr. Tsung,” Miss Hu said, handing him the camera.
“Thank you. Now, we’ll get a little family portrait for my wife. Bruce, could you do the honors?” He extended the camera toward Bruce.
“Sure. Why don’t you stand in front of that screen? Or do you think those light draperies would be better?”
The phrase “family portrait” nearly undid Donna. No, she thought, No. My family is in Vancouver. Oh, Mom. Oh, Dad. She wanted to cry. Instead, she pasted on a smile and stood where they told her to. Before the screen. Before the drapery. With Mr. Tsung. Without Mr. Tsung. She seated herself in the chair, leaning back and smiling. Then she posed holding a blue tea cup. She was surprised to find the cup empty. And clean.
She wanted to go home!
And not back to Laura and Mark’s.
Home to Vancouver. Home to her family.
But this was not yet to be. First, they must finish their aborted tea party. Miraculously, the pot was full again with scalding tea, courtesy of Miss Hu, she supposed. And after the picture-taking, they had to sit and sip it.
Yes Is Forever Page 17