“Have you thought maybe Dad is tired of supporting Mom’s hobby?”
I want to slap his self-righteous face. “You know it’s not a hobby. That’s her job. She owns a business.”
“It’s barely bringing in enough to support itself. That counts as a hobby in my book.”
“Eric.”
“Looks like you’re the one left out of the loop this time.” My brother grins at me, and despite the artificial brightness of his teeth, it’s as cold as the ocean water that laps at the city. “Dad lost all his money, and Mom used what she’d saved to expand Yixiang to pay their mortgage and the store rent instead. When that wasn’t enough—buh-bye, vase.”
“You’re lying.” My reply is automatic, though. Eric would do a lot of things to irritate me, but making up a story like this is a stretch.
“Too bad someone couldn’t cut it as the super-special super-daughter savior of the Huas,” he says as a parting shot. “Then we’d have that one-of-a-kind vase for my son to inherit. Mom might even be able to keep her store six months from now. God knows she loves it more than us.”
He leaves me there with a plate of crumbs, and instinctively I search the room, this time looking for my mother instead of Rafe. I’ve always been under the impression the shop made money, and if sales of regular perfumes were stalling, the astronomically expensive moli scents covered the difference. I didn’t account for the fact that I’m not creating, and Waipo stopped making perfumes, both moli and regular, years ago. The store’s revenue must have been drastically diminished.
The Huas have kept a store since Hua Zhengyi opened the first one in Nanjing over a hundred years ago. My mother and grandmother dreamed about the money to expand Yixiang into the real-life version of Waipo’s aspirational pencil sketch, framed and sitting in their lab. If Mom not only couldn’t expand but also had to sell Yixiang, it would devastate her. Eric wasn’t exaggerating how much she loves that place.
Dad crosses my field of vision and disappears through a door. I follow, needing confirmation but also hoping he’ll assure me it’s not that bad.
“Is it true?” I demand when I catch up to him, heart hammering.We’re in the corridor leading to the kitchen and the smell of old food sits in the stale air, ghostly celebrations for the dead.
“Lucy?” He glances down as he adjusts his blue tie. His brown eyes are bloodshot, as if he hasn’t been sleeping. “What’s going on?”
I don’t bother to hint around, since my father prides himself on being a straight-talker. “Eric told me you’re in debt and Mom will have to sell the store.”
“Eric is blowing things out of proportion.” Dad shoves his hands in his pockets, and the light glints off the new gray in his hair. “You know your mother would never sell the store.”
“Then you have no money issues. None. At all.”
He takes out his hands to adjust his tie again. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. A few investments were made that didn’t pan out, but it’s nothing serious.”
“Investments?”
“Eric came across an opportunity. It was the right decision, but sometimes unexpected things happen and no one can be blamed.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze that feels more warning than loving. “We’re fine. Worry about yourself.”
With that, he turns away to head back to the reception. I watch him go. So Eric lost money as well. That must be why Kelsey is going back to work, however much she dresses it up as her own choice. I decide to send her the perfume samples for free.
I go back to the main room, which is emptying out as people put my grandmother out of their minds and return to their lives. My mother’s calm voice comes from my right, sounding for all the world like her old self, not a woman struggling with debt and death and a failing dream. “Luling, let me introduce you to Henry Lai, one of…”
I smile at the man as I wonder how serious the money issue is. I can’t help; I only bring in enough for my rent and supplies for Ile de Grasse. The one way I could contribute—by creating moli perfumes—is the one path closed to me. Moving back home? Not an option.
Jennifer: It’s a unanimous decision from our judges: Lucy Hua is our champion.
Martin: She should be very proud of herself.
Jennifer: Oh, but she really shouldn’t. Good night, viewers!
4
Hua Dachung
Tang dynasty. Perfumed the famous consort Yang Guifei, one of the Four Beauties of ancient China.
Heart note //Heighten charm
Base note //Beeswax
I’ve only snuck out of the house once in my life, for a party when I was seventeen. I came home at three in the morning to find my mother sitting at the kitchen table in her quilted cotton housecoat. She didn’t say a word, but such was the power of her disillusioned expression and the accusatory bags under her tired eyes that I’d never done it again.
