White Ivy(75)

“God’s will,” Shen echoed.

“Are you folks Christian?” asked Ted.

“We are,” said Ivy before her father could respond. “My parents used to take us to church every week when we were kids.” She did not say it was to pick up her mother from her English lessons with the local Chinese pastor.

Poppy picked up her glass. “To Ivy and Gideon! Ivy, we are so happy to have you as part of the family. Here’s to our two families coming together and learning more about each other’s cultures.”

Ted said, “Shen, Nan, Grandma Lin, Austin—thank you for joining us this Thanksgiving. We have so much to be grateful for.” Everyone clinked glasses. Meifeng let out a small burp, which they all pretended not to hear.



* * *




“MY WIFE AND I were childhood friends,” Shen said after downing his glass. “We met in high school. She came to my village. She was the most beautiful woman I ever saw. I always knew I would marry her.”

Nan colored with pride.

“Ted and I met in college.” Poppy giggled. “He chased me for two years before I agreed to go on a date with him. I thought he was too popular with the ladies.”

“Now, now,” said Ted. “I was no such Casanova.”

“When you know you love Ivy?” Nan asked Gideon.

“I’ve always admired Ivy,” said Gideon, clearing his throat. “Even back in school, she was the nicest, smartest girl in our grade. And she’s grown into an even more amazing woman.”

Ivy smiled gratefully and reached for his hand.

“Ivy is very smart.” Nan nodded. Shen translated the rest: “My wife says when Ivy was little, all the other kids would ask their parents to buy them toys, but Ivy would go around shoveling snow and mowing lawns for money. All to buy this toy airplane she wanted. She never asked us for anything. She was always independent.”

“That was me,” Austin snarled. Everyone turned to him in surprise. He looked down, seemingly shocked at his own outburst.

“I guess we all remember things differently,” Ted offered kindly. “You don’t want anyone taking your credit, right, kiddo?”

Austin sank further back into the sofa.

“Were you that hardworking?” Shen joked, slapping Austin on the back of his head. But Austin knocked his father’s hand away with such force that the Speyers averted their eyes. Nan admonished her son in Chinese. Austin said nothing.

“Let’s move to the dining room, shall we?” said Poppy.



* * *




THERE WAS A great deal of fuss made over the seating. After much shuffling, Ivy was next to Gideon and Austin, across from her parents and Meifeng; Ted and Poppy were on opposite ends of the table. Laid atop Poppy’s finest tablecloth was a magazine-worthy feast: the pear-thyme brined turkey roasted to a perfect crispy brown, rosemary and bourbon gravy, Brussels sprout gratin, two different kinds of salad, apple-walnut stuffing, brown butter mashed potatoes, French green beans with garlic and almond bread crumbs. Nan and Austin refused Ted’s vintage Cabernet but everyone else took a glass.

Shen praised every bite of food he ate, taking a second helping of everything. Ivy and Gideon took turns telling the story of their engagement, mostly for the Lins’ benefit, as Poppy and Ted had already heard the story many times. The topic then came to the wedding. The ceremony would be held at St. Stephen’s, the reception on the top floor of the Millennium Hotel. Ivy had hired a wedding planner back in September, but that had proven to be unnecessary as Poppy had taken everything under her gracious but unassailable command. She’d been the one to suggest the venue, the date, the guest list, emailing Ivy the names of every Whitaker and Speyer in a massive, four-columned spreadsheet that’d included their age, address, and exact relation to Gideon. “Wouldn’t it be marvelous,” she’d said to Ivy at their last coffee date, “if we incorporated some aspects of your cultural traditions in the reception—perhaps a small show or ceremony?” Ivy had promised to get back to her with some ideas. With no one to guide her on the traditions involved in a grand American wedding, Ivy had readily acquiesced to letting Gideon’s mother decide everything, which now apparently had to include a tribute to Ivy’s Chinese heritage.

Nan gave Shen a significant look. Shen’s face turned grave.

“My wife and I—we want to pay for the wedding.” In the startled silence, Shen said, “In Chinese culture, it’s our duty to provide this for our daughter. She’s our responsibility. We would be honored to do this as her parents.”

Gideon looked at Ivy. Poppy looked at Ted. Ted looked at Gideon.

Ted cleared his throat. “That’s very generous of you, Shen. It’s just, uh, in our culture, we assumed Gideon and Ivy would be financially responsible for themselves… it’s their decision, of course… it’s very generous of you folks…”

“Very generous,” Poppy chimed in.

Ivy felt about as gut-punched as Ted and Poppy sounded. She said, “Let’s discuss it later,” but Nan began to insist over Gideon’s grateful response that they would think on it.

Gideon turned to Ivy. “What do you think?”

She smiled and nodded, trying to hide her bewilderment. “In that case. Thank you. Mama. Baba.” Gideon reiterated his gratitude, getting up to shake Shen’s hand.