Last Night at the Telegraph Club(66)

All of this crossed her mind as she followed her mother up the stairs to the Lums’ living room. She wondered what Madame Chiang would think of the Lums. Their home was cluttered with Chinese furniture and paintings, but it was a pleasant sort of clutter, speaking to the family’s success. Lily and Shirley were already running back to the room Shirley shared with her sisters, and though Grace told them to be quiet, she knew they wouldn’t listen. Eddie was fussy, and he took some time to settle down for a much-needed nap. By the time Grace returned to the living room, Ruby had already had food brought up from the restaurant downstairs. On the dining table were platters of fried noodles, water spinach, and braised fish. Rosie, the oldest Lum daughter, carried in a stack of bowls, a dozen flat-bottomed spoons and a container of chopsticks, and Ruby brought a tureen of pork bone soup from the family’s small kitchen.

The dinner was casual and loud. Rice wine was poured, and the older men of the Lum family (the younger ones had enlisted in the army) started to talk very brashly about the war—how America would send airplanes and guns and soldiers and bombs, how the Japanese would be slaughtered as ruthlessly as they had slaughtered the Chinese.

Ruby and Grace shared a skeptical glance that turned into a smile, and then Ruby gestured for Grace to move with her to the sofa. One of the restaurant’s waiters had brought up a basket of steamed custard buns, and they each took one along with a cup of tea over to the quieter half of the living room, sitting near Grace’s mother.

“Do you think they’re right?” Grace asked, eyeing the men. “Will America really send all that aid to China?”

Ruby shrugged. “Who can tell? The president has said he would, but so far America has not lived up to its promises.”

“If anyone can persuade President Roosevelt to help China, Madame Chiang can,” Grace said. “Have you seen the way the newspapers cover her? They love her.”

“They love the woman she presents to them.”

“You think she’s putting on a false front?”

Ruby shook her head. “Not false. Practiced. Prepared. She’s so American—that’s why they love her.”

“They love her because she’s beautiful,” Grace’s mother said.

The men burst into laughter over some joke that Grace didn’t hear; it was jarring in the wake of her mother’s statement. Grace said, “She’s intelligent too.”

“Of course she is,” Ruby said. “She’s intelligent enough to make sure she’s beautiful. Oh, I know you like her, Grace. I like her too. But she’s still a woman. Can she really persuade all those Caucasian men to help China? They might love her, but I’m not so sure they love China.”

“They love it more than Japan,” Grace pointed out. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Lily running into the living room, and she called out, “Lily! No running!”

Lily slowed down, but then Shirley grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the windows at the front of the living room. The curtains were still drawn back, and the red-and-white neon of the Eastern Pearl’s sign glowed through the glass. Shirley dragged a low ottoman over to the window and climbed on top of it. Lily followed, and Grace was about to warn her daughter to be careful when she realized what they were doing. Standing on the ottoman, the windowsill was at the girls’ waist level, and they leaned against it as if it were a balcony. They each clutched a white restaurant napkin in their right hands and waved them at the dark street below.





PART V


Lush Life




December 1954—January 1955





30





Kath was alone when Lily met her on their designated corner the night of December thirtieth. “Jean’s not coming,” Kath said as soon as she saw Lily. “She’s saving up for tomorrow night. It’s going to be a big show apparently.”

“I’m sorry you won’t get to see that,” Lily said, though she felt a twinge of relief at Jean’s absence.

“It’s all right,” Kath said. “I’d rather go tonight.”

Lily wondered if that meant Kath would rather be here with her than with Jean, and she felt a brief flush of excitement. She fumbled with her scarf, re-wrapping it around her neck. The night was foggy and downright cold, and gusts of wind kept tugging the scarf loose.

“How was your Christmas?” Kath asked as they started walking toward the club.

“I got a handbag,” Lily said. She hadn’t intended to sound so glum, but the glumness was unintentionally funny, and both she and Kath broke into laughter.

“You didn’t want one?” Kath asked.

“I guess I didn’t,” Lily said. “What did you get?”

They discussed Christmas for a little while longer, and then they had to stop talking as they crossed Broadway, taking care to avoid a clump of men going in the opposite direction. When they arrived on the other side, Lily said, “I’ve been thinking how strange it is that I never used to do this—and now it seems almost normal.” She paused. “Not exactly normal, but you know what I mean?”

“I know.”

“Isn’t it strange that nobody in our regular lives knows about it? That they think we’re at home asleep?”

“Well, you don’t want them to know, do you?”