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I grin and reach into my purse.
“No, no, this one is not for payment. You can pay me next time.”
I scowl at him. “You tell me that every time.” I pull the money from my purse and try to hand it to him. “No, my favorite customer doesn't have to pay this time.”
I shake my head and slip the money into the container on his tabletop while he tries to wave my hand away.
“You know I won’t let you give away your things for free, Duka. You work too hard every day for that.”
He bows his head slightly toward me and smiles. “Next week, I'llhave something special, something you have not tried before.”
“I look forward to it.”
I continue to make my way through the marketplace until I reach the stall of an older woman. “Mrs. Yakati, I brought you that book I told you about last time.”
“Oh, sweet girl, thank you for thinking of me .” I hand her the book from my bag.
“It is very exciting. You are going to love it. Then we can meet for tea when you finish reading, and you can tell me what you think of how it ends.”
She is packing my usual order while we talk. Wild garlic and fresh turmeric, along with ginger and mung bean sprouts.
“Did you try that same recipe with the chili added in?” she asks.
“I did; it was so much better. I made some for ah gung, and he was very impressed.”
“That is good to hear.”
I finish at her stall and check inside my basket. I just need to stop and get coconut water, then I can head back home. I love walking around the market and often come here even when I need nothing. The people are friendly, and I spend some time chatting with them. They tell me about their families, their children and husbands and wives. Often, I'llbring gifts for their little ones, knowing how hard their parents work to take care of them. In a way, I enjoy this because it is my way of catching a glimpse into the simplicity of their family lives. The beauty of it.
After I have finished my shopping, I stop for an ice tea at the edge of the market and then make my way back home.
I unload my groceries onto the kitchen counter and then pack them away. The simple process makes me calm, and for a moment, I think of nothing else.
When I'm done, pain edges at my thoughts again, so I sit behind my easel and pick up my paintbrush. My mother was a painter. I have seen her work on the walls of ah gung’s home, and knowing that I'm doing what she loved to do makes me feel closer to her. It turns out that I inherited the same talent that she had. The eye for color and detail in an abstract work of thick paint layered over stretched canvas.
I could have gone to visit Maddy tonight, but I feel better doing this in my space with my thoughts.
4
Antonio
The boardroom is ina high rise in the center of the city. Glass walls along two sides of the room overlook Hong Kong. I sit at the table, drumming my fingers against the dark wooden surface.
“What is this meeting about?” I demand to know. It was not scheduled, and despite my asking more than once, I'm still in the dark regarding what I'm doing here.
“I'm so sorry, Mr. Aoi, he will be here in one minute.”
I sigh and push away from the table, finding solace by walking over to the glass wall and looking out at the sight.
Finally, my uncle walks in. I resist the urge to call him out for making me wait. Diplomacy goes a long way.
“Antonio, sorry for being late.”
I return to my chair and sit in silence, eyeing him, waiting to be told about whatever the hell is going on.
“We received news today and wanted to tell you in person before the media printed stories.”
“What is going on?”
