I don’t look back.
3
Hua Caihong
Tang dynasty. Brought the Hua family out from hiding with the death of Empress Wu, who had agents searching for traces of Aiai or her descendants after her escape.
Heart note //Increase daring
Base note //Cinnamon
I slowly circle back to the buffet, mechanically answering the people who stop me to share their condolences. A deep shakiness fills my bones that could be due to too much stress, too little food, or excessive caffeine. Kelsey waves at me again, this time more aggressively, so I give in to the inevitable and take my plate of sandwiches to the corner she’s colonized with her children. My niece, Sophie, and her little brother, Owen, are curled up on the leather couch, playing on various devices.
“It’s a long day for kids,” says Kelsey when she tracks my gaze. “I usually limit their screen time.”
I shrug, not caring in the least. If anything, I’m jealous they get to withdraw into their digital worlds. I don’t know Kelsey very well, as she and Eric met after I left Vancouver, but my mother’s politesse is indication enough that Kelsey isn’t her favorite person. Theirrelationship isn’t helped by the fact that my mother is suspicious of anyone coming close to the family. When they first started to get serious, she made Eric promise not to tell Kelsey about our moli. I’d been home on a rare visit and had never seen him so angry.
“What makes you think she’d care?” he snapped. “It’s not like it’s going to affect my kids if we have any. You made it clear enough growing up that I wasn’t part of this.”
“That’s unfair and untrue.” Mom stood to her full height, which brought her to Eric’s shoulder. “I want you to promise.”
“Jesus, do you hear yourself? Trust me when I say I have no plans to tell her. Her family doesn’t need another reason to think I’m different. Being Chinese is enough.” He shot me a glance that could have been either malicious or triumphant. “Not that it matters, since it seems the precious so-called Hua magic ends with you, Mom. Right, Lucy?”
I’m returned to the present by Sophie, who spies the plate in my hand and rises to her knees on the couch, digging her shoes into the cushions. “Mama, I’m hungry.”
Kelsey smiles. “I’m sure your aunt won’t mind sharing.”
I do mind, as I haven’t eaten since last night, but dutifully hand over the plate. Sophie pokes her finger into each of the sandwiches I stacked into a perfect pyramid, before making a face. “I want chocolate.”
Kelsey glances over at me, her pale eyebrows raised as she hands back the plate, and I sigh.
When I return, it’s with a plate overflowing with cakes and cookies, which I put down in front of the kids as Kelsey’s lips thin. “That’s a lot of sugar,” she says.
“Is it?” I ask innocently.
She lowers her voice as the kids fight viciously over the single chocolate cupcake I included. “How much longer do you think this will last? Eric wasn’t sure.”
Although I’m also dying for today to end, coming from Kelsey, the question rubs me the wrong way. “I suppose as long as it takes for people to finish paying their respects.” I try to keep my tone neutral.
“Right, of course,” she says. “I’m glad to have caught you. I have a favor to ask.”
“You do?” This gets my full attention, and I turn to face her. Kelsey is blond, and her natural freckles have been transformed into indistinct blotches under a thick mat of foundation. Her dark-burgundy dress—red, Mom muttered to me as she walked in, her tone saying everything—is tight under the arms and across the hips. Her hand keeps drifting down to yank it into a more comfortable fit.
“I’m sure Eric told you I’ve gone back to work,” she says. “With the kids in school, I want to start exploring my personal growth through my career. Owen, don’t hit your sister.”
Eric hadn’t told me, but it’s not like we talk. “You were in banking before you had kids, weren’t you?” I ask.
“Yes, but I wanted a change to something more creative. I’m doing luxury gift bags for special events. Very exclusive.”
“Oh?” I look out at the crowd. On the other side of the room, my mother is speaking to a man who was one of Waipo’s first clients, his back bent almost horizontal over his cane and his still-full white hair styled razor-sharp.
“It’s not one of those pyramid schemes,” Kelsey says.
“Of course,” I say in surprise. “I wouldn’t think it was.”
“It’s a young company with a lot of room for growth,” she says. “Owen, what did I say? Sophie, stop annoying your brother.” The kids ignore her.
“That’s great about the job,” I say.
