by Leslie Gould
“But he doesn’t need a new cart. He just needs to get this one fixed,” Jeff said.
Gen and Hang finished filling the baskets with the bamboo shoots, eggplants, cucumbers, cabbages, and mushrooms. Bao spoke with the man again. The man’s voice rose. Lan said something as she slipped the jewelry box into the small pouch that she wore around her neck.
“What did the man say?” Jeff asked Bao.
“That you can afford to buy him a new cart.”
“Tell him I want to pay to fix this one.”
The man said something in an angry voice. Jeff shifted Binh to his other arm and reached into his pants pocket and pulled out two twenty-dollar bills. He handed them to the man.
Gen and Hang put the baskets on the sidewalk.
The owner of the cart said something to Bao. Hang shook her head. “He says his vegetables are bruised. He needs money for those,” Bao translated. Lan said something to the man and then looked up at Jeff.
The owner of the Toyota climbed into his car, started the motor, and stared straight ahead with a blank expression as he inched his vehicle past the group of people. Jeff reached in his pocket and took out another twenty-dollar bill. Lan grabbed Gen’s hand and said something in Vietnamese again.
“She says he’s taking advantage of you because you’re Americans. She says he’s a crook,” Bao said to Jeff and Gen.
The owner of the cart snatched the bill out of Jeff’s hand, righted the cart, and then put the baskets of vegetables in place. Lan scolded him. He began to push the cart.
“It’s okay,” Gen said to Lan and then turned to Bao. “Tell her it’s okay. Please tell her we want to help. We’re just glad that Binh is all right.” Gen reached out and touched Binh’s bare toe. He pulled it away and put his head on Jeff’s shoulder. He had a scar on his ankle and a fresh burn on his calf.
“Well,” Maggie said, “I’ve never had this happen before.”
Jeff handed Binh to Lan. She winced as he slid over her hand onto her hip. “Thank you,” she said in English, first to Jeff and then again to Gen. Tears welled in Gen’s eyes again. She wanted to hold on to Lan, to say, No, thank you. Thank you for Mai. We will tell her about you and her sister and brother. She wanted to hold on and say, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you have to give her up. I’m sorry that your life is so hard. Gen stood on the sidewalk of Vung Tau, and for just a minute she hated the world.
“Ma,” Binh said. “Ma” with a hard a sound as in apple. “Ma,” he said again and then something more in Vietnamese. Gen could see that his front teeth were brown. Lan patted his bottom in a reassuring, “it’s okay” sort of pat.
Lan turned toward Gen and spoke quickly.
“She asks that you teach Mai to be a good person,” Bao translated.
Gen nodded. She didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to walk away from Lan and Binh and Hang. Or maybe she did. Maybe she wanted to run fast and far. To forget this pain that pulsed through her head. And her pain, her little bit of sympathy toward Lan, minimized what this mother of three must feel. How can Lan bear it?
“Good-bye,” Lan said, again in English. She nodded to Hang. She bowed to Jeff and then to Gen, dipping Binh with the movement of her body. Jeff put his arm around Gen as they watched the trio walk down the street. Lan limped as she walked, Hang held her side, and Binh watched from over his mothers shoulder. Gen began to cry. Jeff wrapped both his arms around her. “This has been the hardest day of my life,” she whispered.
“Mine, too,” he said.
“I feel like a baby buyer. Even worse, I feel like we’re stealing Mai from Lan.”
“She took Mai to the orphanage,” Jeff said.
“I know.”
“Feel sad for Lan,” he said, holding her closer. “Cry for Lan and Hang and Binh, but don’t feel as though we’ve done anything wrong. We’re doing everything right.”
Lan and her children turned the corner. “They forgot the suitcase and the backpack,” Gen said. She could see the bags through the bakery window, past the french bread, near the table where the waitress was righting the chairs. She hurried inside to grab them. “Maybe we can catch Lan.”
Maggie shook her head. “Take Binh’s things back to the hotel. Bao can deliver them later.”
Gen could hear Mai’s cries as she bounded up the stairs of the hotel. The maid stood in the doorway of their room and held the baby toward Gen as she rushed down the hall. “There, there, sweetheart,” Gen cooed as she took her daughter. The maid smiled and pointed at the half-empty bottle and then at the garbage pail with three dirty diapers. Gen nodded, “Cam on,” she told the maid.
Jeff put Binh’s bags down, pulled out several bills, and paid the young woman. She bowed.
“Shh, shh,” Gen said to Mai. The baby hiccuped and started to settle. Gen walked around the room. They shouldn’t have left her behind. Jeff fell onto the hard mattress with a thud. Mai closed her eyes, and Gen eased her way onto the bed, patting Mai’s back as she rested her head against the pillow.
“That was exhausting,” Jeff said.
“How did it feel to hold Binh?” Gen smiled at him.
“Good.”
Gen wished she could have held Binh. “Wasn’t it incredible to meet Lan—and Binh and Hang? I’m embarrassed that I felt threatened by the birth mom, felt that she had so much control over our future. But meeting her changed all that. Now she’s Lan, not just the birth mom.” Gen continued to pat Mai’s back.
“I think God wants us to pray for Binh. If we had just heard about him or even seen him, we might not be as compelled to pray for him.” Jeff rolled on his side and ran his finger down Mai’s leg. “I talked to Maggie about sending Lan money after we get home. I asked her about it that night you had the migraine.”
“What did she say?”
“That there aren’t any guarantees about getting the money to Lan, but that they would do their best. It should work if Bao is out here on business. Otherwise, it would be difficult. Maggie said it’s best for Bao to buy things for the birth families, not just give them money. An adoptive family bought one birth mom a water buffalo. Another paid for a concrete floor.”
“How much do you think we should send?”
“I don’t know. A hundred dollars would go a long way. A hundred dollars a few times a year could make a big difference for them.” Jeff stretched out his long legs, sending his feet over the end of the bed. “How long do you think Mai will nap?”
Gen turned her head toward the baby’s peaceful face. “Maybe an hour. Maybe five minutes.”
Jeff yawned. “Just think, in a week we’ll be home, ready to start harvest,” he said. “Everyone will want to see Mai. Mom and Dad will probably be camped out at our house. Your dad, too.” He winked. “Even Aunt Marie.”
Gen sighed. “I can’t wait for her baby advice. ‘Get that baby on a schedule. Don’t pick her up when she cries. Wean her off the bottle, or her teeth will rot.’ ”
“Speaking of,” Jeff said. “Did you notice Binh’s teeth?”
Gen nodded. “Dental care is definitely one of the many things they need.”
Jeff yawned again. “As far as baby-raising advice, I think we should follow our intuition. Aunt Marie and your dad are so logical, so focused on doing the right thing. I think they raised you to be that way, but it’s not really you.”
Was Lan intuitive? Was that why she took Binh back from the orphanage? What would Lan need? Money to send the children to school? Child-care for Binh? What was Lan’s house like? Did she have a dirt floor? “Did Maggie say what they might need?” she asked Jeff. He didn’t answer. “Jeff?” She turned her head. He was asleep. The air conditioning stopped. Another citywide blackout. The drapes shielded the room from the hot sun. Mai’s little body pressed against Gen; the baby’s breathing calmed her. She took in the scent of Mai’s clean head. She rubbed her nose against the baby’s fine hair and hugged her daughter gently.
Lan stood in the doorway of the shack and realized that she had forgotten the books, clothe
s, and toys for Binh. Hang collapsed on the sleeping mat. Lan stepped back into the yard, sat down, and examined her hand. The blisters oozed yellow pus. Binh sat beside her.
“I’m hungry,” he said.
Irritated, she turned away from him and wiped the yellow ooze with the end of her blouse.
“I’m hungry,” he said again.
“We’re all hungry,” she answered.
“I had enough food in the orphanage.”
The orphanage. Everyone thought she should take him to the orphanage. She thought about Mr. and Mrs. Taylor. She rose and walked into the shack, took the box from her pouch, and put it on the back of the altar, behind Second Brother’s photo. Hopefully Mother wouldn’t notice it. She pulled her sleeve down over her hand. She shouldn’t have taken Hang and Binh with her to meet them. Hang had begged to go to catch a glimpse of the Americans who had come for Mai. Lan had been afraid to leave Binh with Mother. Notre Père, I know what I must do.
Chapter 36
The sound slowly pried Gen awake. First she was aware of Mai on her chest, then Jeff beside her, then someone knocking at the door.
“Who is it?” Jeff mumbled.
“I don’t know. Probably Maggie. Go answer it, okay?”
Jeff stumbled through the dark room and pulled open the door.
“I’ve got good news!” Maggie hurried inside. “The orphanage director called. Binh is there. Lan wants you to adopt him, too.”
Gen struggled to sit up without waking Mai. The room spun.
“What?” Jeff asked.
“I don’t want Lan to have to give him up.” Gen leaned against the headboard.
“But she took him back to the orphanage,” Jeff said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Gen positioned Mai across her lap. “What if Lan changes her mind again?”
“The director says that she is serious. She wants you to raise him.” Maggie stood at the end of the bed.
“Could we sponsor him? Give her the money for food for him, for dental care?” What am I asking?
“Genni,” Jeff said. “What’s wrong?”
“I feel sick. For Lan.” The baby breathed quietly, the side of her face against Gen’s leg.
“There’s no guarantee that we could get the money to her or that she would use it on him,” Maggie said. “Other things would take priority. And there’s no guarantee that after a few years you would keep giving.”
A pained expression crossed Jeff’s face.
“You need to make your decision based on what’s best for Binh and on what is best for you as a family. That’s what we want for all of you,” Maggie said, looking from Jeff to Gen. She continued, “Lan has essentially chosen you. I’ve never had this happen before. She’s entrusting Binh to you.”
“Do you think knowing we want Binh made her decide to give him up?” Gen asked. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark room. Maggie’s shoulders drooped with exhaustion.
“She took him to the orphanage the first time, long before she knew about you.” Maggie sat on the end of the bed and turned her head toward them. “I think I understand what you’re getting at,” she said. “Do you wonder if you’re making her life worse in the long run?”
Gen nodded. The back of her knees sweated against the bedspread. Mai’s body heat soaked her shirt. When would the air conditioning come back on?
“It’s the same issue the agency deals with all the time, except ours is on a larger scale. Does facilitating adoption in Vietnam perpetuate adoption?” Maggie stroked Mai’s arm. “You have to remember that the government of Vietnam asked us ten years ago to find families for the children they couldn’t provide for. That’s exactly what Lan is asking of you.”
Beads of sweat formed on Gen’s upper lip.
Maggie continued. “She’s seeking a personal solution for Mai and now for Binh. That’s what we do for each child too. Our first preference is for the child to stay with the mother. Our second is for the child to be adopted by a Vietnamese family, which hardly ever happens. Our third preference is international adoption.”
“It feels like exploitation,” Gen said. “It’s the haves and the have nots. We can have these children simply because we have more money.”
“I know,” Maggie said. “It’s one of the great inequities in this world. That’s why we work with the Vietnamese government to support children in general. Our goal is to eliminate adoption.”
Gen glanced at Jeff.
“I’m serious,” Maggie said. “I love my job, but I’d prefer not to be needed here.”
Mai began to fuss. Gen lifted the baby and gently patted her back, tapping out a rhythm.
“For Lan, the only way she can keep her oldest child healthy and provide for her mother is to relinquish Mai and Binh. Often mothers will keep an older child and take the younger ones to the orphanage. Usually it’s an older boy that they choose to keep. You have to understand that the culture is different, the expectations are different.”
“I won’t feel guilty if we take Binh,” Jeff said. “I already feel responsible for him. And responsible for Lan and Hang and even the grandmother.”
Gen thought about the nameless Vietnamese girl she had prayed for all those years. She shivered.
“Vietnam is a wonderful place,” Maggie said, “and I can tell that Lan truly loves her children. But that doesn’t mean Binh will get what he needs here.”
“I hope our love can equal Lan’s and our lifelong support will make the difference for Mai and Binh.” Jeff searched Gen’s eyes.
She took a deep breath. Can my love equal Lan’s? Will Binh’s love for us ever equal his love for Lan? They were all silent for a moment.
“Think about your mom, Genni,” Jeff whispered. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Because of her love for the people of Vietnam?”
Gen stopped patting Mai’s back. Is this what Lan wants? Is this what God wants?
“What would your mom do?” Jeff asked in a quiet voice. Gen focused on the baby’s thin legs. She didn’t want to talk about her mother in front of Maggie.
“Is this about your sadness, Gen? Your grief for Lan? And for Binh?” Maggie asked, ignoring Jeff’s question.
Gen nodded. “I think so.”
“You will be sad your entire life that Mai and Binh had to leave Lan. And you will be thankful your entire life that they came to you. It will be the paradox of your life.”
Gen tried to swallow the tearless lump in her throat. “Is this what you want?” she asked Jeff.
“More than anything.”
“Okay,” Gen said. “Let’s go see our son.”
Lan sat beside Binh on the veranda of the orphanage as the director walked toward them. “I talked with Mrs. Benson. She said she would speak with Mr. and Mrs. Taylor immediately and call me back.”
Binh hadn’t cried when they arrived. Now he poked at an ant crawling across the bench. Lan fingered the hair at the base of his neck with her good hand. She hadn’t told him he was going to be adopted, just that he would stay at the orphanage and the couple from America, the big man who’d carried him and the woman with the kind eyes, would come to visit him. She hoped they would come, hoped they would adopt him. She put her head back against the railing and closed her eyes. The shade of the building barely made the heat tolerable.
A phone rang; Lan opened her eyes. Binh had curled up on the bench and was breathing slowly, as if he was asleep. The director’s voice floated onto the veranda, but the words disappeared in the sweltering heat. Time stopped for a moment. I hope Binh and Mai will be together. Mother; Hang, and I will have each other. It’s the best I can do for all of us.
“Lan.” The director walked toward them. “Mr. and Mrs. Taylor have agreed to take Binh, too. They’ll come to the orphanage today to visit him and then take him tomorrow.”
Binh sat up, stood, and then walked to the railing of the veranda.
“Here.” The director handed Lan a tube of ointment. “The Americans donated medical supplies to the
orphanage. Put the antibiotic on your hand. It will keep it from getting infected.”
“Thank you.” Lan took the medicine; she would use it later. “It’s for the best,” she said to Binh. She stood and faced the yard; children kicked a soccer ball in the dirt below. “You’ll have enough food. You’ll go to school. You’ll have everything you need. A mother and a father. You will be with Little Sister. The two of you will grow up together.” She was silent for a moment. “Binh,” she continued, “I love you. I’m doing this because I love you.”
He looked at her and then back at the yard. A four-year-old couldn’t understand such a horrible love. She stood and bent to hug him. He held his body straight.
“Good-bye,” she said. “Be good.” Grief flowed alongside the rivulet of peace as she turned and headed toward the stairs and then glanced back one more time. “Be good,” she said again. “Don’t forget me.” Pieces of Lan’s heart broke off.
Binh nodded but did not cry.
Lan sat in the yard outside the shack and gently rubbed the ointment over her burn. A few of the blisters had popped, leaving shrunken skin dangling over bright red patches on her fingers and hand. Some of the sores oozed pus. She wrapped the gauze around her hand and then rose to light the charcoal stove. Older Sister had given them a bag of rice before she left. At least they had that for dinner.
Hang would be furious with her for giving up Binh again. Maybe not today or even for a few days, but when she felt better, she would be angry. And with good reason. She hadn’t even given Hang the chance to say good-bye.
She lifted the little door at the bottom of the stove and scraped out the burnt charcoal with a stick. She took one of the three remaining charcoal bricks from the bag and dropped it into the stove, then struck a match and lit it in a quick motion. It was so quiet without Binh. Quiet without him, chaotic with him. He needed more than she could give.
Mother stood in the doorway. “What is there to eat?” she asked, stretching her arm over her head.
“Rice,” Lan said.
“Did you work today?”
