by Jackie Lau
There was a knock at the door, and Alex let out a string of curses. His father. Just what he needed.
Unless it was Iris, and she’d changed her mind...
He hurried to the door and swung it open.
It was his dad, accompanied by a large box of food.
Alex sighed as he ushered his father inside. Hopefully the man would be out of here in five minutes. He really wasn’t in the mood for this.
“What was on sale this week?” Alex grumbled. “Char siu again?”
“Strawberries.” Dad pulled two plastic containers out of the box, followed by a few long eggplants and a package of tofu.
“Great,” Alex said, sarcasm edging his voice. “Just what I need.”
His dad gave him a look but didn’t say anything else as he proceeded to unload the rest of the box. There were cans of water chestnuts and bamboo shoots, a bag of oranges, some lychees, butternut squash, hoisin sauce, cashews, frozen shrimp ...
He was getting sick of this.
“Do you like cauliflower?” Dad asked. “You didn’t when you were little, but I can’t remember if that changed. It was on sale this week, and I wasn’t sure whether to buy it for you.”
“You do realize I live less than a ten-minute walk from a grocery store, don’t you?”
Dad shrugged.
“I can buy my own food. I don’t know why you think I’m incapable of doing so.”
“I don’t,” Dad said mildly.
“Then why? Because you know who isn’t eating? You. Not me. I swear you must have lost at least ten pounds, and you were hardly big to begin with. Maybe you should keep the food for yourself and skip the visit.”
Alex knew he shouldn’t talk to his father like this, but he couldn’t help it. The words just tumbled out of his mouth. He was so pissed off at the world right now, and Iris still wasn’t answering his texts.
“You liked it when she did it,” Dad said quietly, sitting down at the kitchen table.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dad hesitated. “Your mother.” He looked guilty as soon as he said the word, as though he wasn’t allowed to talk about the woman he’d been married to for thirty-eight years. “She used to drop in unexpectedly and bring you food. Every week or two.” His voice wavered. “I was trying to be like her.”
Oh.
Alex sat down at the table. His chest felt like it was being clamped in a vise.
“Obviously, I’m not your mother,” Dad continued, “but she’s not here anymore, and I’m doing the best I can. Because you miss her.”
Alex did miss her. So very much. “She would drive halfway across the city to bring me blueberries because they were on sale. I’m sure she used more in gas than she saved on blueberries.”
“Yes.” Dad smiled faintly. Sadly. “And you’d tell her that, and then you’d bicker, but it was always good-natured. You’re different with me. I realized I almost never talked to you without her around, and I don’t know how to be with you now that she’s gone.”
“I realized the same thing.”
“It’s my fault. I’m your father. Maybe it’s partly because I wasn’t around enough when you were little. She got pregnant as soon as we moved to Canada, and I was working so hard, trying to be successful in our new country. I didn’t spend the time that I should have with you. And now you’re all I have here.”
Alex swallowed. “Stuart will move back soon.”
“I’m glad, but I can hardly bear to think of their baby. It just reminds me of how she isn’t here anymore, and she’ll never get to see her grandchild.”
The air was heavy. It felt like it was compressing his body, weighing him down.
“I think about that, too,” he said softly. “Mom would have already bought a box full of things for the baby.”
“Yes.” Dad paused. “So, I bring you food, because I don’t know what else to do. More food than she would because, well, I’m trying to show how much I care.”
“Dad,” Alex whispered.
“You look good. I mean, aside from the fact that you obviously haven’t been sleeping enough, but it looks like you’re training for the Olympics.”
“Lots of time at the gym, because...”
“I understand,” Dad said. “That’s just what you do. Whereas I haven’t been eating.”
“You should really—”
“Some days, I just can’t. And to be honest, I don’t really know how to cook.”
“You don’t?”
“She made sure you and Stuart knew what to do in the kitchen before you moved away from home. But not me. She thought she’d always be there to cook for me.”
And now she wasn’t.
Alex pressed his fingers to the corners of his eyes.
“Sometimes I try to make things,” Dad said, “but they taste awful and I have no appetite anyway. Then I bring the ingredients I don’t use over to you. That’s the other reason I give you so much stuff.” He stood up to get a tissue box. “Here.” He touched Alex on the back before sitting down.
Tears ran down Alex’s face. There had been tears since his mom had died, but very few. He’d kept moving, kept separating himself from his feelings, so this didn’t happen.
But it was okay to cry.
It was good to actually talk to his father for once, rather than getting mad at him for bringing over five tins of water chestnuts.
“What about that girl you were seeing?” Dad was probably attempting to cheer Alex up, but it was the wrong thing to say.
“We’re not seeing each other anymore. Her choice, not mine.”
“Maybe one day...”
His father was probably talking about him meeting another woman, but Alex hoped that maybe one day, Iris would change her mind. One day.
“I bet Iris is worse in the kitchen than you are,” Alex said, managing a smile. “She screwed up scrambled eggs.”
“I don’t even know how to make scrambled eggs.”
“I can teach you.”
It was hard to believe this was his life now. Offering to teach his father how to make scrambled eggs.
“You could take cooking classes,” Alex said. “Something to do in the evening.” Instead of going home to an empty house.
“I don’t know.”
“I could take them with you, if you like.”
“Would you?”
Alex nodded. “Yes.”
Something for them to do together rather than his father dropping in unexpectedly with too much food once a week. A way to learn to be together, without any other family members around.
“I’d prefer Cantonese cooking,” Dad said.
“It’s Toronto. I’m sure that won’t be too hard to find. We’ll try for something in the fall. And, Dad, you don’t have to try to be like Mom. You’re not her, and that’s...” Alex’s voice trembled. “That’s all right. I can’t get my mother back, but I still have my father.”
“Okay.” Dad’s voice trembled, too, on that single word. “Okay.”
“I’ll make more of an effort as well. I know I haven’t been the best son. I don’t know what to say to you, and then I end up saying nothing. It’s not all your fault.” Alex stood up, and hesitantly, he went to his father and put his arms around him. It was new and a little awkward, but they were finally making progress. “You can talk about Mom whenever you want. I get the sense you try not to mention her because you’re afraid of upsetting me, but there’s a good chance I’m already thinking about her. It’s okay, Dad.”
His father shook his head. “It’s not okay. I miss her every day. Every hour. I thought if I did the things she used to do for you, you’d miss her a tiny bit less and that would be worth it, but I can never replace her. She was one of a kind.”
“She was,” Alex agreed, a lump in his throat. “She was.”
* * *
After they ate scrambled eggs and toast for dinner, followed by strawberries and lychees for dessert, his father left, and Alex lay down
on the couch. He didn’t even have the energy to turn on the TV. He’d been scraped raw by his conversation with his father, though he was glad they’d finally talked for real.
But now, all of his limbs felt like they were made of lead, and his chest still felt like it was being squeezed between two bricks.
Now, more than ever, he wished he had Iris. He wished he could hold her, feel her fingers moving through his hair, scraping across his skin. Making him feel whole.
Dammit, he missed her.
He loved her.
He loved her so, so much.
Chapter 18
Saturday morning, Iris planned to do some cleaning. Some vacuuming, dusting, and laundry. But as she lugged the vacuum out of the closet, she was hit by the silence of the house. After years of living alone, she’d lived with her grandmother for only a short time, but she’d already gotten accustomed to Ngin Ngin always being around.
Plus, Iris hadn’t been here the past two Saturday mornings. She’d been in Alex’s bed.
Screw it. She’d go to the hospital.
When she opened the front door, ready to head out, there was a vase of roses on the steps. They were the same shade of pink as the ones at A Cup of Stars, and she was certain that was not an accident. She remembered every detail of that afternoon, the exact taste of the crumbly currant scone on her tongue, the exact feel of his lips against her temple.
He probably remembered every detail, too.
So much for not thinking about Alex.
There was a small note tied to one of the roses with a piece of ribbon.
Iris, I’m always here for you if you ever change your mind.
She exhaled unsteadily, and then she brought the flowers inside. She inhaled their delicate fragrance before heading out again.
* * *
When Iris arrived at the hospital, a bunch of little old Chinese ladies were tottering out of her grandmother’s room as they spoke loudly in Toisanese.
“Iris.” Ngin Ngin beamed. “Good timing. Now I don’t have to be alone. You have one hour with me, then doctor is coming back to do...I’m not sure.”
Iris pulled up a chair and sat down. “How are you feeling today?”
“Am making good progress with walking. Using walker, of course. They say I can get out of here tomorrow.”
“That’s great.”
“Then I will go to the rehab facility for a few weeks before moving in with Lewis and Carolyn.” Ngin Ngin paused. “Today is Saturday, right? Why didn’t you bring Alex? He’s not working today. I want to see him again. Tell him stories about you. Admire muscles.”
“Ngin Ngin!”
“Ask him to come see me. He’s a good boy. He will come.”
Iris massaged her temples. “Alex and I are not seeing each other anymore.”
Ngin Ngin frowned. “Why not? You like him, yes?”
“But I never want to get married. I don’t even want a relationship, and that’s what we had.”
“Why you so scared of relationships?”
Iris looked down. “You’re happier by yourself, aren’t you?”
“Aiyah. Is this the whole reason? Me?”
“It’s not the only reason, but when you fell, I wasn’t there, and I would have been there if it hadn’t been for Alex. When I see people in relationships, I can’t help but imagine how much better their lives would be without the other person dragging them down. Relationships cause so many problems.”
“Iris, you give me a headache.”
“You’re happier without Yeh Yeh, aren’t you?” Iris pressed.
“I wouldn’t say happier.”
Iris wasn’t surprised her grandmother wouldn’t admit it, though it was obviously true.
“But,” Ngin Ngin continued, “more freedom and independence—yes.”
“I value those things highly.”
“Of course. You should.” Ngin Ngin paused. “Alex is not like your yeh yeh. He will be a good husband. Support what you like to do. You know, your grandfather was not the man I wanted to marry.”
“No?”
Ngin Ngin shook her head. “Did not love him. Not in romantic way. Not like in all those books on my Kindle.” She nodded at the e-reader on the table beside her. “He was the man I was supposed to marry, the man my parents chose for me, but I wanted to marry someone else. Man I loved.”
Iris’s eyes widened. “You had another guy?”
“You think all old people are so proper. We haven’t been with anyone but the person we marry, and before we marry, we only have kiss on cheek. Ha!”
“Thank you for putting such wonderful images in my head.”
But despite Iris’s sarcastic tone, she was curious. Ngin Ngin would sometimes talk about their early years in Canada, but she never, ever talked about China, and she’d never gone back to visit. Iris hadn’t heard Ngin Ngin mention her own parents before, and she suddenly realized that she didn’t even know if Ngin Ngin had any siblings.
“So why didn’t you marry him?” Iris asked.
Ngin Ngin sighed. “My family owned land. We weren’t like dukes and duchesses, but we weren’t poor. The Communist Party, led by Mao Zedong—you know who he is?”
Iris nodded.
“They started land reforms. You can use the computer to look it up. I don’t want to explain all the details, but many landlords were killed. Mao encouraged peasants to kill them.”
Iris put a hand to her mouth. She almost told Ngin Ngin to stop, but that wouldn’t change what had happened.
“The man you loved...he died?”
Ngin Ngin shook her head. “No. They killed my parents.”
Iris was too horrified to speak.
“So I ran to your yeh yeh. I wanted to honor my parents’ wishes, but also, he always talked of taking me to Canada. He had an uncle here. I wasn’t so sure about going to Canada before, but after they killed my parents, I wanted to escape. Very afraid. Other man wanted to stay in China. I loved him, but I could not stay. So I married your grandfather. We went to Hong Kong and saved money to fly to Vancouver. Then we took the train across Canada. Big country, took long time. We ate only bread and strawberry jam because we didn’t know English and could not ask for anything else. But I was excited. I had chance for a new life. Make family proud. It was not perfect choice, but it was the best choice. I still think so. Because look at the life children and grandchildren have! You can do anything you want. You have a good job, opportunities. You don’t have to make a decision like me. No reason you cannot be with the man you love.”
“I don’t love Alex,” Iris said faintly, trying to process everything she’d just been told.
“Ah, you’re lying. Or you don’t know it yet. But I’m an old woman. Very wise. I know.”
“What happened to the other man?”
“We wrote each other letters, but then Yeh Yeh found out and got mad. Eventually, my cousin told me he died. Many, many years ago now. Part of the reason Yeh Yeh didn’t give me much freedom was punishment for the letters, plus he was afraid I would have an affair since I didn’t love him.”
Iris clasped her grandmother’s hands. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.” She paused. “Did you have any siblings?”
“I had a brother. He was killed, too.”
Iris shut her eyes. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want.”
“It’s okay. You should know these things now.”
“Do Dad and Uncle Howard know what you just told me?”
“Not about the other man, but yes. I didn’t tell them when they were children, though. You remember you had a family tree project in school? I think you were in grade three.”
“Yes. We had to make a family tree, going back to our great-grandparents.”
“Your dad called me because he didn’t know anything about his grandparents. I didn’t want to tell him anything, but eventually I gave dates. Of course, he asked why my parents died on the same day. Very suspicious, yes? So, finally,
I told him, but I asked him to lie to you, give you different dates for their deaths. Because you were smart cookie, and I was afraid you’d ask questions. You were eight years old. Too young for that.”
Iris squeezed her grandmother’s hands. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You must take advantage of all opportunities. That’s why we came here—to give children and grandchildren a better life. You can have everything. Job, husband you love, children, hobbies. So proud of you, Iris.”
A tear slid down Iris’s cheek as she smiled at her grandmother.
“Thank you,” she said. “I wish you’d had all the opportunities I have.”
“I would have been a great engineer, don’t you think? I would love to boss men around at construction sites.”
“You know, that’s really not what my job is like.”
Ngin Ngin waved her hand. “Close enough. I wonder what my family would think of my life now. I have two granddaughters married to white men. One has PhD and studies climate change; other is going to have a baby any minute. I have a grandson who is married to another man, and they adopted a little girl. I also have a granddaughter who is an engineer and more stubborn than I am. I speak English and have friends from all over the world. I can make tiramisu and pad Thai. They could never imagine this, I don’t think.”
“You’re only ninety-one. You still have time to do more.”
“Goal is to live to one hundred. Then if I meet a woman who is ninety-one, I can call her a spring chicken!”
Iris managed a laugh, though there were still tears in her eyes.
“Now I’m tired,” Ngin Ngin said. “Want to rest before doctor comes. You can leave. Go find Alex. Maybe he’s at the gym, making all those muscles, or maybe he’s writing you a romantic letter? I don’t know. You go find him, and soon you bring him to visit me.”
“Actually, I’m visiting my parents this afternoon.” They were supposed to talk about how to re-arrange the house so Ngin Ngin could move in when she got out of the rehab facility, but Iris didn’t feel like mentioning that, not now.
“Okay. Eventually you will realize I’m right.”
“Maybe I will.”
* * *
Before returning to Ngin Ngin’s house, Iris went to a coffee shop near the hospital, ordered a latte, and stared blankly out the window.