Page 58 of Taipei Story

“A little bit of everything.” She transferred the contents of her grocery bags into the refrigerator. Plastic-wrapped onigiri, cartons of unsweetened soy milk, poached tea eggs, steamed pork buns dripping oil through their container. “I got some instant ramen too.”

“Jeez.”

“You can have some if you want.”

“No, I’ll just go back to the 7-Eleven; I think it’s still open.”

“No, seriously. I bought too much. It’s going to go bad. Just have some.” Anna stepped around me. “I’m going to take a shower, okay? I’m all sticky, it’s so humid.”

“Okay.”

Anna went into the bathroom. I pulled my things off the bed and sat on the edge of the couch, staring at my hands. I breathed in and out, willing myself to calm. She was being nice. I should be nice. This was progress.

Anna stepped out of the shower, flushed and damp. “Much better,” she said.

I tried to remember all the reasons I disliked her. It was hard to conjure up any real animosity. I knew I could be angry, but that would take so much effort. I had been over the accounting of wrongdoing so many times in my head now, and it all came out as a wash.

Anna peered out the window. “It’s so calm out there.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Feels weird to be trapped inside.”

I told her what Teacher Sun had said about the winds—how they could be dangerous even if everything looked calm from behind a window, how you could be walking down the street and a piece of scrap metal could pierce your skull.

Anna scoffed. “Where’s the scrap metal coming from?”

“Like, just lying about.”

“Where is there scrap metal just lying around in Taipei?”

“Old buildings? Construction sites? I don’t know.”

We peered out the window. A light rain had begun, so faint we wouldn’t have been able to tell except for the gray dappling the sidewalk.

“I went to a hurricane party once,” said Anna. “Near Orlando. It’s a whole thing over there. I was visiting my friend from camp and there was a Category Two hurricane coming through that weekend, and everyone was so excited about it because that meant school and work were canceled for the day.”

“Was it scary?”

“No, it was just white moms drinking wine and teaching each other how to Dougie,” said Anna. “I’m serious. They had this huge plank, like a wooden ski, with five holes at intervals where you could fit shot glasses. They would stand five in a row and do shots. They did like, eight shots. They love hurricanes up there. It’s like a holiday from God.”

This made sense to me. The storm absolved all your excuses. You couldn’t go on with your day; you had to cancel your plans, shelter in place. And you didn’t know if the storm would wreck everything and kill everyone, so you had to be nice to everyone—just in case.

Anna made instant ramen for our dinner. I felt a tender pang, watching as she fastidiously folded back the paper lids halfway, shook in the flavor packets, and filled the water up to the line. She put little plates upside down over the cups while the noodles soaked. “It traps the steam,” she said. She set a timer on her phone for two and a half minutes, and when it rang, she carefully peeled the lids away and set the cups atop the little plates to catch drips. I lit my candle and placed it in the middle of the coffee table, even though the electricity was still working. Anna passed me a set of disposable chopsticks.

“趁熱吃,” she said. Words of a Chinese mother. “Eat it while it’s hot.”

“I’M REALLY SORRY,” I SAID AT LAST, ONCE We’D FINISHED OUR noodles. It took me that long to gather the courage. “About JC.”

“Oh.” Anna snorted. “No, I’m sorry. That was all so stupid. Actually, he’s dating Margrit now.”

“Doesn’t she have a fiancé?”

“I think they broke up.”

“Really?” I thought of that nice, ruddy-cheeked man on Margrit’s phone screen. “That seems like a big decision.”

“It’s not really about JC,” said Anna. “I mean, maybe a little. They seem to really like each other, it’s pretty gross. But I think Margrit’s been looking for an excuse to get out of that relationship. Helmut is very traditional, you see. He wants Margrit to settle down and raise their children as soon as they get married. But Margrit speaks so many languages, and she wouldn’t get to use them on a sheep farm.”