The Wangs vs. the World(109)

Because we burn up the world together. You can’t deny it. I don’t talk to anyone the way I talk to you. No one else has ideas like we do. No one else consumes shit the way that we do. We tear each other apart. We crawl up inside each other and die there. It sounds sick but it’s amazing. That’s the way we love and I miss it.

I won’t lie. I love what Sabrina does for me. But I love what you do TO me and WITH me. And now I’m so lonesome without you. Lonesome. Like Johnny Cash. I know you hate similes (See I remember everything about you.) but they just keep coming out because I’ve never written a letter like this before.

You know I’ve already deleted this letter ten times? I know I don’t have a lot of shots left with you. Hell maybe I don’t even have this shot. But I’m going to try.

You’re going to ask if I have any plans for us and I don’t. But I know that we should be together. Just tell me that you want to be with me and that will be enough for me right now. We’ll figure the rest out. Maybe me and you will have a baby. Why not.

Okay now I really am drunk and I’m at least smart enough not to keep writing this. But you’ll think about it won’t you. I know you met that guy up there but he’s not me and Sabrina’s not you.

I love you I love you I love you my little pieces. I love you.

G



She felt calm at first, detached, and vaguely interested. But as she scanned, thumbing the screen upwards, her fury grew. Grayson probably wrote this in Sabrina’s apartment, huddled in the kitchen in the middle of the night, draining a bottle of whiskey while his fiancée breastfed their baby. Saina could see it. Him, with the screen glowing on his face. Her, burping some adorable, chubby creature, worried about his absence but not wanting to say it.

It was gratifying, a little bit, to think that she could take him away from Sabrina. Her ring was probably in their apartment, too, or in Sabrina’s workshop. She’d given it back when they’d broken up. Flung it at him and then run to get the complex, faceted box it had come in and thrown that at him, too. Now Saina remembered how it had felt on her finger, how its heaviness had meant that she was loved, that she could stop worrying about that part of her life at least. She missed that constant reminder, even if it had turned out to be a lie.



Andrew looked back at his sister. She was sitting on the bench next to his duffel, staring at the floor in front of her. Grayson was probably trying to win her back, that *. He hoped that she didn’t fall for it. Saina and Grace hadn’t asked him yet about Dorrie, but he’d tell them the truth if they did.

Just then the baggage carousel started up, and pieces of luggage started sliding down the chutes.

“Oh! I see mine! It was the first one out!” Grace dragged him behind her as she chased her bag and then Saina’s. As they walked back to the bench, pulling the suitcases behind them, he leaned in to her and whispered, pointing at the man putting a new plastic bag in the metal bin, “Have you ever seen a Chinese janitor before?”

“I’ve never even seen so many Chinese people before,” she whispered back. But it was true. She’d never seen a Chinese janitor or a security guard or even a Chinese boy band like the one that had been on the plane with them.

Saina stood up as they approached. “Okay, so I’m thinking that we just go straight to the hospital, right? It’s almost midnight, so it doesn’t really make sense to find a hotel and stuff. Let’s just go there and maybe they’ll let us into his room, or if not, there’ll probably be a waiting room or something.”

“Wait, you’re not just going to slip by us! What did Grayson want?” asked Grace.

How could she even begin to explain it? “I don’t think I’m going to respond to him.”

“But what did he say?”

“It was . . . a weird love letter. I don’t know. I don’t really want to talk about it now. It’s so late, and I just want us to get to the hospital, okay?” She slipped her arm through Grace’s and pulled her in closer. “Are you hungry? Should we get something before we go?”

Grace dropped her arm. “No, I’m fine,” she said, moving forward to catch up with Andrew.



Once they made their way through customs, minus an apple that Grace had in her bag, they spotted a gangly young woman in a black necktie and a driver’s cap holding up a sign that said SAINA WANG. A girl! That was a surprise. Andrew was impressed. As they walked towards her, he asked Saina, “How did you know how to hire a driver in China?”

“The assistant at the gallery did it.”



“Are you Miss Wang?”

“Yes. Wo men yie ke yi shuo zhong wen.”

“Oh no. It good. For me. To practice. English,” said the driver, who stuck a hand out for them each to shake. “I am Bing Bing.”

“I’m Saina. This is Andrew and Grace.”

“Did. You all. Have. Good flight. From America?” She picked out her words carefully. Things were going to take a lot longer if they were going to let Bing Bing practice her English, but Saina didn’t have the heart to embarrass her by insisting on a switch to Chinese.

“Someday I go. To America. I like Michael Jordan! And Titanic! Very good.”

Andrew laughed. “Yeah! You like basketball?” He mimed a shot. “Three-pointer?”