“With me, you can always say whatever is on your mind. I want you to know that. Good or bad. Don’t ever hold back. I’d rather know exactly what you are thinking and feeling than have you feel like you need to shrink yourself for my benefit,” he says with such deep sincerity that it causes a lump to form in my throat.
I smile and lean my head against his side, and he holds me a little tighter.
“Are you hungry?” I ask after a long moment.
“Chinese?” he replies.
“Ok, but I am taking you to my favorite Chinese food place, and it’s not the fancy vibe you are used to.”
He chuckles. “Alright, kitten, you lead the way.”
I navigate him to Chinatown. It’s late afternoon, and all the lights are on. Neon signs glowing in Chinese lettering, hanging between colorful lanterns and paper dragons. The place is alive with people and laughter. We walk down the narrow street, closed off to cars and only open to pedestrians. There are hawkers with tables set up out in the cool winter air, selling Tiger Balm, incense, and small, curious little oddities that I could spend hours browsing.
We walk past a silk vendor, and I pause to trace my fingers over the beautiful kimono I have admired for years since I found this place. The old woman is sitting in a chair, a kimono on her lap. She is busy hand-stitching a dragon into the soft fabric.
I watch her for a while as my fingers linger on the kimono closest to me.
She takes such care in her work. Each stitch is done with careful thought.
“Do you want it?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I’ve sort of always wanted it. It was one of my favorite things to come here and look at it and watch her making them,” I laugh, feeling silly as I remember how money used to be this impossible idea to me. No matter how hard I worked, it never seemed to be enough. I always daydreamed about the day I could come here and buy one of these beautiful kimonos, made with such love.
“I’ll take the black one with the golden dragon,” he tells the lady standing nearby. “Your work is magnificent,” he adds with a smile.
“Oh yes, good choice,” she nods, happy to be making a sale. She stands up, setting her needle and thread aside.
“Do you think it’s real silk?” I whisper to Adrian, worried that he might not like it if the quality isn’t good enough. I imagine he only likes the most luxurious things, and my little dream of owning one of these kimonos might not have the same meaning for him.
“Does it matter if it makes you happy?” he asks just as quietly with a grin, glittering in his eyes.
I giggle and shake my head. He pulls me a little closer and whispers against my ear, “Not everything worth enjoying has an expensive price tag. I admire her art. Her patience. Her work truly is beautiful. Just because some big brand hasn’t commercialized her doesn’t mean anything. In fact, it might make it even more exceptional.”
I look up at him, my heart warming at his understanding. He understands why I find them so special.
“I’ll take the white one with the golden dragon,” I tell the lady. My heart flips with excitement.
“Really? Not the pink one?” he asks, surprised.
“Oh no. I have had a long time to think about this. The white one is the most elegant. And this piece is meant to be elegant. It’s too exquisite to be anything else.”
“Aah, yes, you two will be the perfect couple in black and white. Yin and Yang. You complement each other,” the lady says, folding the kimonos carefully between tissue paper and placing them each in a handmade paper box. The whole process is like a ritual to her, and it adds to the experience. My heart fills with happiness when she hands me the box. My life has changed a lot in a short time.
This kimono that I have wanted for so long somehow resembles that.
“Thank you,” I smile at her.
Then I turn to Adrian and stand on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” I smile at him, too.
My mom is right. I need to have patience and listen to my heart. When the time comes, I will know what to do.
Chapter 17 - Adrian
I’ve danced between ignoring it and confronting the old man for disobeying my direct warning.
Ultimately, I can’t leave it alone because I want her to be happy. And she can’t be happy if he keeps pestering her.
So, late on Wednesday afternoon, I walk into another seedy bar in a downtown shit hole area that stinks of tobacco and sweat.
