“What is going on with you this morning?”
Vivian jumped, realizing she’d been staring down at her shoes for over a minute without putting them on. When she looked up, Florence was frowning at her. “Did something happen last night?”
“No,” Vivian said immediately. But she sighed when Florence gave her a pointed look. “Bea and Abraham got in a fight. She found out some things about Pearlie that… she didn’t want to know.”
“Anything to do with…” Florence trailed off, looking unsure.
“Do you want me to tell you?” Vivian asked, brows rising.
Florence sighed. “No, I really don’t. Not if I don’t need to know.”
“Then come on,” Vivian said, standing at last. “Mrs. Chin wanted us to mail a package on our way to work.”
Mrs. Chin’s errand took them along Greene Street, just past the address she had slipped Vivian the day before. Vivian wondered if that was on purpose or not. While Florencestepped inside the post office, Vivian lingered on the sidewalk, ignoring the sea of humanity that flowed around her, and stared at the building where Mr. Sun lived. There was a restaurant on the ground floor doing a bustling morning business. From above, she could hear shouts and laughter and children yelling in a way that was all too familiar.
“What are you staring at?”
Vivian jumped as Florence spoke next to her; apparently she’d been standing there for longer than she realized. She glanced around, worried that someone might have been able to follow them while she was distracted. But no one in the crowd stood out; in fact, they were the only ones standing still.
Them and one elderly man, with a head full of white hair and a neatly trimmed gray beard, who leaned on his cane and stared at them from the narrow doorway next to the restaurant’s entrance.
It was the man she had seen that spring day on Baxter Street. And he was looking directly at them.
“Vivi?”
Vivian didn’t answer her sister, too busy staring at the man, who stared right back at them as though he had seen a ghost. Vivian caught her breath and, without thinking, took a step toward him.
“Mr. Sun?” she whispered.
To her surprise, Mr. Sun reached out, his hand shaking, and laid a gentle palm against her cheek. His hand was rough, callused from years of work, but she didn’t pull away. “My memory does not always do what I wish these days, and I cannot recall your name,” he murmured. “But you look just like her.” He smiled. “Aside from the hair. Mae had very memorable hair.”
“How did you know her?” Vivian said, her voice hoarse. Next to her, Florence wasn’t moving, and Vivian could almost feel the disbelief and hope radiating from her.
“I met her when she first moved to New York. She got lost riding thesubway train and ended up in front of my door, asking for help. I was happy to rescue her.” Mr. Sun dropped his hand slowly and turned to Florence, smiling. “I remember the first time I met you. Such a little bit of a thing. Such big eyes, looking at the whole world like you didn’t trust it. I can see not much has changed.” He chuckled at the memory. “And you…” He turned back to Vivian. “You could never stay still. Even when your mother carried you, she said you were always dancing and twirling.”
“That hasn’t changed either,” Florence said, her voice shaking.
Mr. Sun’s expression grew sad. “She disappeared when you were still so little. But here you are. I did not believe it when I heard you were asking about me.”
Beside her, Vivian heard Florence’s sharp intake of breath as she realized that this meeting wasn’t a coincidence.
Mr. Sun was still speaking. “But I looked out the window, and there you were. I thought I was dreaming.” He frowned. “Have I dreamed about you before?”
“In the spring,” Vivian said, trying not to sound too surprised. His hair was white and gray, and there were some lines on his face, but his body did not look stooped or aged. He was not that old—perhaps in his fifties or sixties? But he spoke like a much older man. “You were sick on the street.”
“Ah, yes.” But he frowned and shook his head. “My memories of things that have happened a short while ago are much harder to find these days. But the things that happened many years ago…” He smiled. “Those I remember. I remember your mother. She was so pretty. And often so sad.”
“Are you…” Vivian hesitated, not sure which answer she wanted. But she couldn’t stop thinking of what Danny had told them. “Are you our father?”
He shook his head, but he was smiling. “No. I think I am old enough to be your grandfather, but I am not that either. She lived next door to me.”
“Then do you know—”
“Yéye!” Mr. Sun had left the door open behind him, and the call came from inside its long, dark hallway. A girl came rushing out, breathless and looking worried. She was maybe a year or two older than Florence. And in spite of her hurry, she was still gentle as she took his arm. “Yéye, don’t wander off like that, you scared me!”
“I had to speak to Mae’s little girls,” Mr. Sun explained, smiling as he gestured toward Vivian and Florence. Then he frowned at the girl. “Are you my nurse?”
The pain in her expression was quickly covered with a smile. “No, Yéye,” she said gently. “I’m your granddaughter. Hu Dandan is your nurse,” she added, beckoning toward the door. An older woman waited there, looking stern and competent and gentle as she took the man’s arm to lead him back inside. “You know you’re not supposed to go outside alone.”
