by Liu, Cynthea
Though Cece wasn’t thirsty, the cup felt comforting in her hands, and the warmth of the mug stilled her.
Then Yi Mou—or should she call him Baba? or Father? she wasn’t sure—sat opposite Cece on the cot and started talking to Peter.
Peter said, “He wants to tell the story he has waited so long to tell you.”
Cece nodded, eager to listen.
Her father began.
“Twenty years ago,” Peter translated, “your father came from the country to find work. It was here in Beijing that he got a job as an attendant for a government official. His wife, An Wei, your mother... ”
My mother? Cece immediately wondered where her mom was. It was clear from the room, she didn’t live there. Cece looked at her father, but didn’t want to interrupt.
“Your mother,” Peter said, “was also an attendant at the house. They fell in love and married. The master supported the marriage, but his wife did not. She thought it was shameful to house a family as if they ran a charity.”
Cece’s father shook his head as he spoke.
“But the master prevailed,” Peter translated, “allowing your parents to live in this room so long as their work would not suffer. Of course, your parents wished for a child, and when An Wei became pregnant, they were overjoyed. The official’s wife was very upset.
“Your father knew his master’s good graces would not last long,” Peter continued. “He only hoped he could find new work so he could keep the family together. But things did not go as planned.
“He couldn’t find a better job. He had no education, and no one would take his family in. As An Wei grew larger with child, their worry increased. Yet despite everything, An Wei remained optimistic. Perhaps, she thought, when the official’s wife saw the child, she’d be compassionate. She would be unable to put them out.”
Yi Mou paused and looked directly at Cece, as if to emphasize his next words.
“This is what your mother hoped for every day,” Peter said. “Every night.”
Cece nodded, but her body tensed.
“One evening, your father came home from an errand and found An Wei in bed. ... She was not feeling well. She was certain the baby would be coming soon....The next day, An Wei was still not well. She got up to try to do her master’s laundry, and your father insisted she stay in bed. She refused. ... She would not neglect her duties.”
Suddenly, the mug Cece was holding felt very cold.
“All morning she washed clothes outside while Yi Mou completed errands. When he came home, he found An Wei collapsed on the ground.”
Cece’s heart started to pound.
“At the hospital, the doctors wouldn’t let your father see her. They worked on An Wei for hours.”
No. Cece’s chest tightened even more.
Her father’s voice was shaking.
Cece could no longer look at him. She stared at the tea in her hands.
“When the doctors were done,” Peter continued, “they brought out a child—a beautiful child.”
Her father’s voice was now barely a whisper.
“They told Yi Mou that An Wei ... that An Wei had passed.”
Cece’s vision blurred with tears. “No.”
Peter took her tea from her and tried to hold her hands. “It’s okay, Cece.”
Her shoulders shook. Her mother was gone. She had wanted to know her so badly. Now it all made sense. Mei Ling’s warning. Don’t cry. But Cece could do nothing to stop herself.
Her father spoke again. This time his voice was calm. “Ni de mama meiyou zou,” he said.
Cece wiped at her face and looked at her father. “She’s not gone,” Peter said.
“Ta yongyuan huo zai ni de xing zhong.”
And for whatever reason, Cece understood her father clearly. “She’s always lived in my heart,” she said.
Her father continued speaking, a warm smile on his face.
“He says he knows it was she who led you to him after all this time.”
The tone of her father’s voice was certain, matching the expression in his eyes, and Cece wanted to believe him. She nodded, and he continued the story.
“After Yi Mou lost his wife,” Peter said, “he had no time to grieve. He had a hungry child to feed. The master gently told him that China would allow foreign adoption soon and, as healthy and beautiful as you were, it would be certain you would go to a good home.”
Her father paused. “Wo zhidao zhe shi ni de mingyun.”
“Yi Mou knew this was your destiny. He and An Wei had wanted nothing more than for you to be well cared for.... He was determined to fulfill his wife’s wishes and his own. ... The day he took you to the orphanage, he felt like An Wei had guided him.”
The look in Cece’s father’s eyes grew distant, as if he was imagining himself there, and Cece bit back her tears.
“He felt no pain,” Peter said. “No regret. He packed the few things they had for you and all the money he could give in a cardboard box. Then, in the early hours of morning, he left you at the doorstep of the orphanage.”
Cece took in a slow breath. How she wished things could have been different. Not for herself, but for her father. Though she knew now he had made the right decision to leave her.
“Wo yizhi zai pangbian deng zhe,” he said.
“Your father waited nearby,” Peter explained. “It wasn’t long before you began to cry, and a care worker came out and found you. The care worker was Wang Mei Ling. She picked you up and carried your belongings inside. Every day, your father hoped the foreign adoption policy would pass in government. His master insisted it would. But for nearly two years, nothing happened. Each day that passed, Yi Mou would go to the orphanage and peek through the gates, hoping to see you. Finally, one fine morning he did.”
Cece’s father smiled broadly as he spoke. It was obvious how much he cared for her.
“Mei Ling was taking you out for a walk. You were bigger and rounder and more beautiful than ever.
“Each day, he’d return during the same time to see you come out. Eventually, he dared to talk to Mei Ling. He never told her who he was, but he would say how lovely you were and leave Mei Ling a small envelope with his address and some money.
“Mei Ling understood exactly who your father was.”
“Ta changchang gei wo xie xing.”
“She would write to him often and let him know how you were doing. It was a great day when Mei Ling wrote that the orphanage was accepting adoptions from foreign countries. Many, many children would find new homes. It was only weeks until you had new parents. ...”
My parents, Cece thought.
Her father clasped his hands together. “Wo feichang xingfen. ”
“Yi Mou could not have been happier,” Peter said. “Mei Ling told him what little she knew about your parents. They were from the United States. They were kind. So excited to have a child at last. Best of all, Mei Ling told him how your new mother had held you for the first time. She pulled you in close and sweetly uttered three Chinese words. Wo ai ni.”
I love you. Cece felt the tears coming again.
Her father’s eyes shined with joy as he spoke.
“And now you have come to find me.”
“Ni tongshi ye ba nide muqing dai dao wo de shengbian.”
“You have also brought a part of my wife to me.”
Cece’s father reached by his bedside and showed her a photograph.
Cece held the picture of a woman standing beside her father. She recognized her own eyes, her own smile. “An Wei,” she said. “My mother.” A tear ran down her cheek, and something in her heart locked into place.
“Ta feichang ai ni, jiu xiang wo yiyang.”
“She loved you as much as I do.” Cece stared at her father, and she couldn’t hold back any longer. She stood up and hugged him, burying her head into his shoulder. “Baba...” she murmured, no longer confused, no longer afraid of the truth.
That evening, on the way to the train station, Cece sat with
Peter in a cab, her mind still buzzing with the memory of meeting her father. She couldn’t stop thinking about how things would be different now. Especially at home.
“Are you okay?” Peter said.
“I’m fine,” Cece said. “It’s just all overwhelming. I’m just wondering how I’m going to tell my parents about all of this.”
“Will they be supportive?” Peter asked. “You will see your birth father again, right?”
“I think my dad will be okay with it... but I’m not sure about my mom.”
“I am sure she will be happy for you,” Peter said.
Cece sighed. He didn’t know her mother. “Let’s hope so.”
When they got to Xi’an the next morning, Cece didn’t want to call her parents from the dorm. She needed privacy, so she dropped her things off in her room and found a phone booth just outside the university. Cece pulled out her calling card and punched in the numbers, but as she reached the last digits, she slowed down. How was she going to break the news? Should she start with what she’d just learned or go from the very beginning? Should she tell them everything or only the highlights? You’re overthinking this. She punched in the last number. Say whatever comes to you.
The phone rang as Cece twisted the cord in her hand.
“Hello?”
“Mom?”
“Cece! What a surprise. I figured you’d be too busy with finals to call—”
“Mom, wait—there’s something I need to tell you.”
Her mom paused. “Is everything all right?”
“Listen, could you get Dad on the phone, too?” Cece leaned against the booth. She heard her mother call for her dad. “Honey,” her mom said, “what is it?”
“Everything’s fine. I just have some news.” Cece closed her eyes. Big news. News you probably don’t want to hear.
Cece heard her father pick up the line.
“Cece, are you okay?” His tone was serious.
“Yeah.”
“What’s going on then?”
She took in a breath. She let the words come out on their own. “Well... it’s about Beijing.... ”
She told the story as best she could. From the beginning. The trip to the orphanage. Finding Mei Ling. Then going back again and meeting her father. When she finally finished, there was complete silence on the line.
“Um... Mom, Dad, are you there? Say something.”
“I’m here,” her father said. “Your mother is ... well, she’s a little upset.”
This was exactly what she was afraid of. “She’s not mad, is she?”
“No, give her a few seconds. She’s ... um ... overwhelmed. And I have to admit I am, too.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to—”
“Cece, don’t apologize.”
Cece shook her head. No, she had to. She knew she’d hurt her mother. “Dad, could you tell Mom... well, could you tell her ... ”
She heard her mother clear her throat. “I’m right here, honey.”
“Mom, I just wanted to say... ” Cece pressed a hand against the booth. It was so hard to get it out, but it was something that was long overdue. “You’ll always be my mother, you know? Always. That was never going to change.”
Her mom didn’t respond at first.
Then Cece could hear her weeping softly.
“I don’t know why I’ve never said that to you,” Cece continued. “I guess I was sorta angry. Every time I tried to ask about my adoption—”
“Don’t say another word,” her mother said. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“You? Why?”
“I should have been more open from the beginning, but I was so afraid you’d be hurt. I wanted to protect you even though I didn’t know what I was protecting you from.”
Cece held the phone tighter. “Oh, Mom.”
“I just wish you didn’t have to go through this. You’re my baby, you know?”
“I know,” Cece said. “But I’m okay.” She longed to be home with her mother, to hug her, to show her she was all right. “I really am.”
Her mother breathed in. “It makes me feel so much better to hear that.”
“Mom, there’s just one more thing I need to say.”
“Yes?”
Cece pictured her mother on the other end of the phone and smiled. “Wo ai ni.”
That evening, Cece and Will carried out their original plans for Cece’s birthday, with one teeny exception. They brought company. Cece couldn’t bear to celebrate without Kallyn and Peter. They had so few days left together before it would be time to head home. Peter took them to the Muslim Quarter for an early dinner so Cece could reminisce about the first Chinese meal in China she ever liked, and then they wandered around the area to pick up some last-minute souvenirs. Afterward, they took a lazy bike ride atop the City Walls while the sun began its descent.
When they finished, Will and Peter returned the bikes while Cece and Kallyn looked over the wall, taking in the view. The sky was a mixture of orange and purple, and the Bell Tower and the Drum Tower were lit up, standing out among the buildings below. Cece thought about their first excursion weeks ago.
Kallyn seemed to be thinking about the same thing. “Can you believe it’s been over two months since we were last here?”
Cece gazed at the fading sun. “I know.”
“In one short week, I’ll be home.”
“With Ryan,” Cece said. “Wait—you two are still together, right? It’s been so long since we’ve talked about him.”
Kallyn grinned. “It’s okay. You were kind of distracted.”
Cece laughed. “Just a little.”
“No worries, though. Check this out.” She pulled out a necklace that was tucked under her shirt. A tiny key dangled from it. “Ryan sent it to me.”
“Let me guess—the key to his heart?”
“Nope, it goes to a lock for my new mountain bike. When I get back, Ryan’s taking me on a huge cycling trip through the Rockies.” She let out a breath. “I think I’m in love.”
“Yeah?”
“Totally.” Kallyn glanced past Cece. “Speaking of love ... ” she whispered.
Will joined Cece’s side. “Well, the bikes are turned in.”
Peter stood next to Kallyn. “What did I miss?”
“Oh, nothing,” Kallyn said. “Cece, Will, you two enjoy the view. Peter, let’s go take a walk.”
“A walk?” Peter said. “But we just biked for an hour.”
Kallyn gave him a funny look. “Come on, Peter.”
Cece laughed as Kallyn pulled Peter away. “She is hardly subtle, huh?”
Will smiled as he studied the horizon. “Hardly. But I’m glad it’s just you and me now.”
Cece’s heart skipped a beat. “Me, too.”
Will grasped the edge of the wall. “And I’m glad things worked out in Beijing, Cece. What you did took some guts.” He looked at her. “Makes me wonder if I have that kind of courage.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” Will replied. “The courage to go after what I want, I guess. Like my father is. He’s officially filed for separation now.”
“I’m sorry, Will.” Cece touched his arm.
“No, it’s all good. It is. It’s what I have to learn.” He turned to face her. “Maybe I should start now.”
Cece tilted her head. “Start what?”
Will took her hand. “Going after what I want.”
Cece’s voice was barely audible. “Oh?” She stared at his dark eyes, his perfect lips.
“Uh-huh.” Will pulled her toward him.
And they kissed like it was a kiss they had waited for all summer long.
Chapter Sixteen
The next couple of days were busier than ever before. No classes were held on Monday or Tuesday, allowing students to prepare for finals on Wednesday. Cece spent her time studying for her exams, meeting with her project team to finish their documentary, and finishing Peter’s film-school essays. But she worke
d hardest of all on her culture paper—a paper she could now tackle with renewed inspiration.
By Thursday, Cece had put her exams and paper behind her; all that was left to do was the team project presentation and one more proofread of Peter’s essays. The last day’s schedule would begin with the presentations and finish with an awards ceremony. The students gathered in the lecture hall, and everyone critiqued each team’s project. She was pretty impressed with the documentaries, but personally, she thought her team’s was the best. Not only were their costumes one of a kind—thanks to Jessica—but their script was accurate and humorous. Cece did a decent job playing Qin Shi Huang’s male adviser, and at the end of the film, her untimely death as a concubine was a big hit.
After the critiques came in and the scores were tabulated, Mark and Jenny went up to the podium to award final points. Cece’s team received full marks. “And,” Mark said, “we’re going to play Qin Shi Huang: One Man, One Country next year as the leading example. Team Three, please stand.”
Cece’s team got to their feet, and the audience cheered. It was nice to get credit for their hard work.
After the clapping subsided, the professors presented awards, citing who would receive college recommendations. As each professor took his turn, Alex’s name kept coming up. Cece was psyched when she and Kallyn both received recs for archaeology and evolution. Finally, it was Professor Hu’s turn to announce her list. Cece held her breath. She knew she’d taken a risk with her paper, but at the same time, she thought she turned in something great. Her nervousness got worse when Professor Hu slowly and methodically named her top students. Instead of just saying the names, she expanded upon them, citing the rea sons why she had selected each one.
“And . . . Jeremiah, he also do very well,” she said. “I very much enjoy his paper on feng shui and Chinese architecture. I think his analysis of home design was very interesting—earth, water, wind, fire. ...”
Cece’s knee began to bounce. A couple of people coughed.
“However, the student whose essay I appreciate most, putting her at top of class”—she peered down at the paper she was holding—“is...Cece Charles for ‘Government Policy and Family Ideals: How the One-Child Policy Affects China’s Orphans.’”