I looked up, certain I’d misheard, and tilted my right ear toward him. “Say that again.”
“Would you want to come with me,” he repeated, “to America? I’m leaving in three days. My brother and I own a restaurant in the middle of the country. Kansas City—it’s in Missouri, not Kansas.”
I nodded as if that meant something, but inside, my thoughts were spinning. I couldn’t believe I’d changed his mind. “I thought you weren’t looking for a wife.”
“I didn’t think I’d find someone I’d like.”
“You hardly know me.”
“I have a good feeling.”
I wished I could say the same. Philip was sixteen years older than I was, the same difference between Baba and Sai Ma. I wouldn’t call him handsome. The space between his eyes was unusually wide, his lips rather thin, and there was a mole on his neck with so many hairs sprouting out that it looked like a spider. Yet there was a humbleness about him that was promising.
“You don’t have to say yes,” said Philip, sensing my hesitation. “You’re young and you’re beautiful...” He didn’t finish. “I wish there were more time for you to get to know me, but my trip is short. I don’t know when I’ll be returning.”
My heart is not so young,I thought,nor so beautiful.I twisted my hands together under the table. This was what I’d wanted. I couldn’t have second thoughts now.
“Do you smoke?” I asked.
I already knew the answer, for I smelled tobacco on his shirt.
“Cigarettes.”Not opium,he left unsaid.
“Do you drink?”
“Rarely.” When I furrowed my brow, he felt the need to explain, “Sometimes, with my friends. It gives me headaches—I don’t enjoy it.”
I fiddled with my teacup, biting back another question. Who was I looking for, the Buddha himself?
Hold your tongue and don’t chase wild dreams,Mama had told me long ago.Choose a good man who will take care of you and your children.
Was this the good man she had foreseen for me?
To hell with it, I couldn’t ask her, and I didn’t care. If anything went wrong, I would run away. I was good at that.
I had one last question. “Do you want a family?”
Philip leaned forward, his face bright under the lamp. “I’ve always wanted children,” he said slowly. “Life is better when you have someone to look after.”
They were words I couldn’t imagine my own father saying, and for that reason alone I agreed, “I will go with you.”
Philip finally drank, smiling as if he couldn’t quite believe it. In a way, I couldn’t either.
I picked up my cup and raised it to his.
I was going to America.
Hong Kong
1980
Marigold
It was evening when Marigold took her first step onto Hong Kong soil. The air smelled different from California’s, and it wasn’t because of the humidity. It was thick with garlic, gutter oil, and possibility. She loved it.
Aunt Winnie had sent her son Edison to fetch them from the airport, a last-minute surprise that Helen sprang on her as they deplaned. Honestly, Marigold should have expected it. Aunt Winnie had three sons, Helen three daughters. Could they even consider themselves friends if they didn’t at least try to matchmake their children?
Edison arrived in a Puma Polo with aviator glasses, straight out ofHong KongVogue.“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Long line to pick up my first passenger.”
