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“You don’t have to spend your time with JD just because you’re his cousin,” my mother had said to me on our call earlier. “You deserve better. And I heard the Hei Long is looking to start a war. A number of their top deputies were taken out, and they’re looking for revenge.”
“There’s always talk about that,” I had replied. The Hei Long is a triad based in Hong Kong.
“When it happens, I don’t want you caught in it.”
I’ve had this same conversation more than a dozen times. Once, I was so exasperated, I told her that if she wanted a normal life for her son, she should never have married a gangster in the first place.
“You should leave the Jing San, marry a nice girl, give me some adorable grandchildren,” she had pouted.
“You coming to Andrea’s wedding?” I had asked, switching the subject.
It worked. She talked about how it depends on how her aunt, who was recently discharged from the hospital, is doing, and how disappointed she is that her nephew, who lives closer to the aunt, is barely doing anything.
“You know Tony is no longer involved with the Jing San,” my mother had informed me even though I already knew that about Tony. “He works with his brother now, making billions in legitimate business.”
Spotting Bridget and Amy in the club then, and not wanting to rehash my mother’s concerns, I had told her I needed to go.
“After the eggs are done, put them in cold water,” Bridget tells me once the eggs are on the stove. “That way the yolk doesn’t turn greenish-gray.”
“The yolks turn green?” I ask.
“It has something to do with the heat affecting the iron and sulfur in the eggs.”
“Never knew that about eggs.”
“How long have you had this place?” Bridget asks as she looks around the kitchen again.
“About four years. You make your collard greens and sweet potato pie?”
“I was going to, but I’ll do it tomorrow instead.”
“You ever been to a restaurant called Maybelle’s?”
Her eyes light up. “That place has the best sweet potato pie. The crust is made from scratch and it’s to die for!”
The look on her face makes me wish I had a slice of Maybelle’s pie right now.
“Dante used to take me there for my birthdays.”
“Dante the ex?” I ask, even though I’m not keen to talk about her past boyfriends.
“Yeah. Does it ever get weird for you seeing your ex, Kimberly, with another guy?”
“Nope.”
“I don’t know what she sees in Eric Drumm.”
I lean against the kitchen island. “Money, money, and more money. Maybe prestige if his dad becomes president.”
She lifts a brow. “Think highly of your ex much?”
“I’m not knockin’ her. I might date Drumm if I were her.”
“You could do so much better. She could do so much better.”
“She’s the daughter of immigrants who worked as cooks in a Chinese restaurant, and she’s probably reached the pinnacle of her modeling career. There’s not a whole lot of places she can go in a few years. Marrying a Drumm is a huge step up for her.”
“Well, I hope she’s happy then.”
