White Ivy(92)

“No… we drove straight down after you called.”

Nan clucked with worry. “You two should go to our house and heat up the leftovers.”

Ivy said Gideon had to drive back right away for an early flight the next morning.

“Here and back in one night. Won’t he be tired? What if he falls asleep and gets into an accident?”

Ivy didn’t argue. She was exhausted, even though she’d done nothing. She’d done nothing all week. How draining futility was.

Nan spotted Shen hurrying down the hall. Her expression morphed from concern to irritation so fast it gave Ivy whiplash. “Where have you been…”

Gideon was walking a few strides behind Shen. “I’m sorry to be rushing off like this,” he said, handing Ivy a Styrofoam cup of coffee.

With that same superhuman liquidity, Nan’s face smoothed into a motherly smile. In broken English, she thanked him for coming all this way and apologized for being such a bother. She told him to drive slowly on the way back and to let them know when he arrived in Boston.

“I’ll call you tomorrow to see how things are,” Gideon said quietly in Ivy’s ear.

“I love you,” she whispered painfully. He kissed her, shook Shen’s hand, then kissed Nan’s cheek. Nan colored; her hand rose again to her neck.

They all remained standing until the elevator door closed on Gideon’s smiling face.

“He’s a good man,” said Shen.

“Very reliable,” Nan agreed.

Ivy touched her eyes. They were wet. Nan eyed her daughter suspiciously. “Go get us some water,” she told Shen.

“She has coffee.”

“I want some water. We’ll be in the waiting room.” She marched Ivy down the hall. The minute the door closed behind them, Nan said, “What’s wrong with you?”

Ivy sank into a plastic armchair and reached for the box of tissues on the rickety side table. She felt as if she were trapped in one of her garish nightmares. Six hours ago, she’d been lying in her own bed in Boston. Now her grandmother was breathing through an oxygen tube and she was stuck with her mother in the waiting room of a hospital, watching a late-night talk show with the volume muted on the little television set mounted in the corner.

“You look even worse than Austin,” Nan said severely. “No color in your face at all. Have you been trying to lose weight?”

“I’ll stay the night here with Grandma,” said Ivy. “Why don’t you and Baba go home.”

Nan’s face softened. “Grandma will be fine. American nurses are very capable. We can come back first thing tomorrow morning. Is that why you’re crying?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you fight with Gideon? Is he mistreating you?”

“What? No. We don’t fight.”

Though they were alone in the room, Nan lowered her voice. “Is it another woman? You can tell Mama.”

Ivy blanched. Not for the first time, she wondered from what twisted depths her mother’s thoughts bubbled from.

“A-ya, are you still so thin-skinned?… Sit up straight!” Nan pounded Ivy’s spine reproachfully. “You look like a hunchback. Don’t think you can just become ugly after you get married.”

“I’m not getting married.”

“What are you saying? Not getting married!”

“Gideon’s going to call off the wedding.”

Nan’s brows rose to her hairline. After a brief silence, she said, “What have you done?”

“You probably can’t even get your money back for the wedding.”

“Bah—money. Who cares about that?”

Ivy laughed hollowly and pointed out that Nan had just been complaining about Meifeng’s hospital bills.

“They’re two separate things,” Nan dismissed. She snatched away the pen Ivy had been fiddling with. “Money isn’t the only indicator of success. It’s a man’s breeding that counts. The goodness that runs in his veins. Money can’t buy that.”

“Oh for God’s sake,” said Ivy, “not this qìzhì crap again.” She retrieved her pen and clicked it furiously into her palms.

“It takes more than love to make a good marriage,” Nan went on, not listening to her. “Only a fool would think otherwise. Rich people are no fools. Don’t underestimate your man. He’s ambitious, I can tell. No one is that careful if they don’t have grand plans. He walks with such importance, always watching all of us to see how we fit into his life. I see him look at you sometimes. Trying to see if you can help him on his way.”

“On his way to what?”

Nan waved this aside. “Men rarely talk. They only act. Do you remember Aunt Ping’s friend’s son, Kevin Zhao?”

“No.”

“Do you remember anything in that thick head of yours? He’s that boy who came up to Boston to meet you last year.”

“So?”

Nan’s voice held a trace of pride as she announced that Kevin was married now to a girl from Yunnan. “A ballet dancer. He just finished medical school and got offered a job at the hospital. They just bought a house, right in Clarksville. Only twenty-nine years old.” She shook her head nostalgically. “It took me and Baba until we were in our forties to buy our first home. And we still had to borrow money. But Kevin’s bought his wife a house. He sends money to his wife’s parents… What has Gideon done for you? You come to Baba for money because you don’t trust your future husband. He should have at least offered to help you pay for law school.”