Last Night at the Telegraph Club(81)







37





All this time, Shirley had said nothing about Calvin. Earlier, Lily might have been resentful or even jealous, but her own secret was much more important now.

On Friday night, Lily arrived at the Lums’ home to find Shirley and Flora in the living room. Shirley had already put on her Macy’s dress, and when Lily entered, Shirley asked, “Look what I have—do you like my earrings?”

“They’re from Mr. Wong’s store,” Flora said.

Lily took off her coat and came closer to look at the blue drops clipped to Shirley’s ears. They looked like sapphires. “Pretty,” Lily said.

“They go really well with the dress,” Flora said.

“What do you think, Lily?” Shirley asked, twirling around. The dress fit her well. She’d selected a gauzy pastel-blue gown with a full skirt and a Grecian-style draped neckline. She was wearing white patent leather heels and full makeup, with a crimson mouth and the corners of her eyes emphasized by a sweep of eyeliner, and she’d curled her hair and pinned it in place with a rhinestone comb. “Do I look like a good Chinese girl?” Shirley fluttered her eyelashes.

Lily sat down on the sofa and picked her words carefully. “You look like a beauty queen,” she said.

Shirley pursed her lips and walked over to the coffee table, where she had left a written draft of her speech. “Well, the judges better think so,” Shirley said.

“I know they will,” Flora said.

They heard footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later Mary appeared, carrying Shirley’s cheongsam in a garment bag. “I’m sorry I’m late,” Mary said, rushing into the living room. She laid the bag over the back of the sofa and unzipped it to display the dress, which her mother, who was a seamstress, had altered for Shirley. “You should try it on to make sure it fits.”

The cheongsam was sky-blue silk embroidered with white flowers, to coordinate with the Macy’s dress.

“Oh, it’s beautiful! But I’m going to give my speech in this dress,” Shirley said, gesturing to the one she was wearing. “Let me practice in this first. Dress rehearsal! And then I’ll try on the cheongsam. Here, all of you should sit down and be my audience—and my judges.” Shirley moved the cheongsam over to one of the empty armchairs while Mary joined Lily and Flora on the sofa.

Shirley stood across from them, backlit by the windows, and held her speech in both hands as she gave them a bow. “Good evening, gentlemen,” she began.

Flora and Mary giggled in response, because of course they weren’t gentlemen. Lily managed a smile.

“恭喜發財.* Thank you for allowing me the honor of speaking to you tonight. I have thought carefully about who Miss Chinatown is meant to be, and I humbly hope that you will find me best suited to the task. One of Miss Chinatown’s most important responsibilities is to reign over the New Year festivities as a representative of our community. The New Year festival is an ancient tradition dating back thousands of years, and yet it also celebrates the opportunity to make a new start in the New Year. Every year we honor our ancestors and thank them for their blessings, and every year we prepare our homes and families for the New Year by paying our debts and cleaning out the dust of the old year.

“We Chinese Americans have come to this new world of America to make new lives for ourselves and our families. Miss Chinatown should represent the best of both these traditions, ancient and modern. She should honor the strength of the Chinese family and Chinese tradition, but she should also embrace the best of the new American way of life.

“I am the daughter of hardworking immigrants from Canton. I was born right here in Kau Kam Shaan,* and I grew up working in my parents’ restaurant, where I saw how Chinese culture can be embraced by Americans. I am a daughter of the Old World as well as the New World, and I am ready to represent Chinatown as we move forward into the Year of the Sheep. I humbly present myself to you, honored judges, as an obedient and dutiful daughter of Chinatown. Thank you.”

Shirley curtsied, holding her skirt back delicately as if she were a princess, and Lily, Flora, and Mary clapped.

“I think that’s pretty good,” Flora said. “Very humble.”

“And virtuous,” Mary said.

Lily wasn’t sure she liked the speech. It felt like a fraud, as if Shirley were trying to flatter the judges into voting for her. “I like the curtsy at the end,” Lily said.

“But do you think it’s enough to win?” Shirley asked. “I didn’t sell enough raffle tickets.”

“You can still win,” Flora declared. “You’re so much prettier than the other girls. I saw the one who sold all those tickets to the Six Companies—she has a face like a cow.”

“Flora,” Mary admonished her. “That’s mean.”

“It’s true,” Flora insisted. “If Miss Chinatown is supposed to be a beauty queen, then Shirley should win.”

“What do you think, Lily?” Shirley asked. “You’re so quiet.”

There was a subtle challenge in Shirley’s tone, and Lily knew she was supposed to say something encouraging—that Shirley was the prettiest of all, that she would surely win or else those judges were all blind idiots. That was the price of admission to Shirley’s circle, and Lily had paid it before. It was easy enough to continue paying it, but she didn’t want to anymore. Lily realized she’d stopped wanting to pay her fee a long time ago. All she wanted right now was to get this dress rehearsal over with and go to the Telegraph Club with Kath.

Malinda Lo's Books