by Leslie Gould
Jeff finished reading the message. “That’s great!” he said, jostling Mai. “I’m so happy for them.”
The second e-mail was from her dad. He’d sent the phone number of the Vietnamese man that he wanted them to contact. She printed the e-mail. She couldn’t imagine calling the man now, not today not until they knew more about the investigation into Binh’s adoption. She replied to her father, said they would try to call, and asked him to pray
“Do you want to call this guy?” Gen asked Jeff as they walked to the elevator. A week ago she was thrilled to be in Vietnam. Now she longed to board the plane with Jeff and the children. With the children. She thought of her mother on the fateful flight with the orphans. She thought of her father. Did he think about that every day?
“It would mean a lot to your dad if we contacted this pastor,” Jeff said.
Gen nodded. “Lets wait until tomorrow.”
They walked into their room; Jeff sat down on their bed and began playing with Binh’s toys, fitting the family into the car. Binh zipped the Ziploc bag one way and then the other. Every few minutes he would run his little hand through Jeff’s curls and laugh.
Gen changed Mai’s diaper on the other bed and then fixed a bottle. “Let’s not wait around,” she said. “Let’s go get lunch.”
She carried Mai in the front pack, and Jeff held Binh’s hand as they walked into the hall. The phone rang just as Jeff closed the door. He fumbled for his key. “I’d better get it. It might be the INS.”
She waited in the hall with Mai. Binh followed Jeff. “It was the INS,” Jeff said, relocking the door. “They’re going to do the long investigation into Binh’s case.”
“Oh, no.” Gen’s heart fell.
“It will be okay.”
“Stop saying that.” She turned and walked down the hall She wanted to trust Jeff on this, but she couldn’t. He had no way of knowing how it would all work out; neither of them had any control over the INS or the investigation. Why is it so hard to trust God? Why do I have to remind myself that he is in control?
They stepped onto the elevator. “Push the One button,” Jeff said to Binh. The boy smiled and poked at the button. “Push it hard.” He poked it again, the button lit up, and the elevator began to descend. Binh grabbed Jeff’s leg and squealed in delight.
Jeff smiled at Binh and then at Gen. “Remember, Mr. Davis said that it was routine, that they choose the cases randomly.”
“I don’t believe it.” She stroked the top of Mai’s head.
“We can ask Maggie when she gets back from her meeting,” he said.
“So we’ll go ahead, take Mai to the doctor, get her passport and visa, and then do it all over again with Binh?”
“I think we should.”
“But why, if you know it will all work out?” She met his gaze.
“Genni, don’t. This isn’t my fault. I’m just trying to move ahead, to figure this out.”
The elevator doors opened. Jeff scooped Binh into his arms, and they all walked into the lobby Binh waved to the doorman as he swung the glass doors wide. “Bye-bye!” Binh said in English. “Bye-bye!”
They crossed the street and headed to the French café on the corner. “Did he say how long the investigation would take?”
“Two or three days,” Jeff answered.
“So we can still get out by Friday?”
“It might be Monday or even Tuesday.” They stopped for the rushing sea of traffic.
“What about harvest?”
“I’ll e-mail Dad again and see how things are going, see when he thinks we need to start.”
“You could go ahead,” Gen said. The cars and scooters slowed, and they stepped off the curb.
“And leave you with the kids?”
Gen nodded.
Jeff shook his head. “I don’t want to do that. I want us all to go home together.” The driver of a scooter honked and swerved around them. They hurried to the sidewalk.
“But if we had to, we could do that.”
“It would be so hard for you. And Maggie wouldn’t be here to help you. No one would.” Jeff opened the door to the café. “Dad can start harvest without me.”
“Let’s wait and see,” Gen said as they settled into a booth.
Binh chatted away with the waiter. “He wants pumpkin soup,” the waiter said in broken English. “And a Coke.”
Gen shook her head. “No, no. Bring him the soup and milk, not Coke.”
A woman slid into the booth behind them and lit a cigarette. Binh stood on the seat and stared at the woman. She turned and spoke to Binh in Vietnamese. He shook his head and climbed onto Jeff’s lap.
“Your son is very cute,” the woman said in English. “And the baby is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Gen said.
The woman put out her cigarette.
“You must be adopting.”
Gen nodded. Jeff shifted in the seat so he could see the woman.
“Where do you live?” she asked.
“In Oregon. About an hour east of Portland.”
The woman nodded. “I’ve been to Oregon, to Portland a few times.”
“Where do you live?” Jeff asked.
“Southern California.”
“Where are you from originally?” Gen asked.
“Here. I grew up about an hour out of the city. I left in 1978.”
“Is this your first trip back?” Gen asked.
The woman shook her head. “No, I’ve been back several times.”
“To visit family?” Gen asked.
The woman nodded. “My mother, sister, and brother still live here.”
Binh pushed his face against Jeff’s chest.
“Your little boy seems to really love his daddy,” the woman said.
Gen nodded. “I wish he was as fond of me. I hope that will come in time.”
“I’m sure it will.”
“Would you join us?” Gen asked.
“I’d love to.” The woman collected her black leather purse and water glass and slid into the booth beside Gen and Mai. “May I hold the baby?”
Gen pulled Mai out of the front pack and handed her to the woman. Binh turned his head away from Jeff’s chest and said something in Vietnamese.
“What did he say?” Jeff asked.
“That it’s his baby, and I can’t have her.” The woman laughed as she moved Mai to her shoulder. Mai began to fuss. The woman clucked several times; the baby quieted.
“We’re Jeff and Genevieve Taylor, and these are our children, Binh and Mai,” Jeff said.
“Pleased to meet you. How old is the baby?”
“Four months. What do you do in California?” Gen asked.
“I work as a translator for social workers mostly.”
“How long will you be in Vietnam?”
“I’m not sure,” the woman said.
“Where are you staying?” Gen asked, aware that the woman hadn’t said her name.
“At the hotel across the square.”
“So are we,” Jeff said.
“Really?” the woman patted Mai’s back. “Tell me about yourselves.”
“I’m a cherry grower,” Jeff said. “We own an orchard that has been in my family for over a hundred years. And Gen is a teacher.”
“What grade?”
“Third.”
“Good. Do you have other children?” the woman asked.
Gen shook her head. “These are our first.”
“Where did you get them?”
“An orphanage in Vung Tau.” Gen unwrapped a straw and put it in her water.
“A boy and a girl. Birth siblings. How lucky you are.”
“How did you know they’re siblings?” Gen asked. Why did she feel uneasy?
“They look like siblings. Are they?”
“You’re right. They’re birth siblings,” Jeff said.
The waitress brought Binh’s soup. He crawled off Jeff’s lap and began slurping the liquid with his spoon. The woman said someth
ing to him in Vietnamese and then, “Ouch!”
“What’s wrong?” Gen asked.
“Nothing. The boy bumped me, that’s all.”
“Did he kick you?” Jeff asked.
“Oh, no!”
“Look, Gen,” Jeff stared through the window. “It’s the man that we met that first night, before we went to Vung Tau. Bryce. And that must be his wife.” A woman held the little boy’s hand. Bryce motioned to Jeff.
“I’ll be right back,” Jeff said.
“What did you say your name is?” Gen asked the woman.
She handed the baby back to Gen and grabbed her purse. “I need to get going,” she said.
“What about your lunch?”
“I’m suddenly not feeling well. I’m going back to my room to rest.”
“Ba!” Binh called out, dropping his soupspoon onto the table.
“He’ll be right back,” Gen said. Mai began to cry. The woman said something in Vietnamese to Binh as she slid out of the booth.
“I hope we’ll see you in the hotel. Maybe at breakfast,” Gen said.
“I hope so too.” A quick expression of pain passed over the woman’s face. She headed to the side door.
How odd. Gen watched Jeff, Bryce, and the American woman as they spoke. After a moment, they turned to look at Gen and the children. The man gestured beyond them.
“Ba!” Binh banged on the window.
“No, no,” Gen said.
Jeff swung through the door, followed by Bryce and his family.
“Hi!” Gen said, over Mai’s crying. She needed to stand up with the baby. Jeff needed to sit down with Binh.
“This is Bryce’s wife, Sue. That’s the woman who botched their adoption,” Jeff said.
“What?”
“Cammy Johnson. She’s the facilitator who botched Daniel’s adoption,” Bryce said.
“No.” Gen stood.
Bryce and Sue nodded.
“That means she’s Binh and Mai’s aunt.” Jeff’s deep voice was filled with distress. Binh stood on the seat and reached for his father. Gen sat back down and slid, with the baby, over to the window.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Sue fell into the booth beside Gen. “What a nightmare.”
Gen walked around the marble border of the hotel lobby, bouncing Mai. Jeff stood at the counter, checking their messages. Perhaps the INS officer had called to say that he had changed his mind. Binh clung to Jeff’s leg. Gen’s gaze drifted down the hall at the far corner of the lobby. Toward the end, five figures walked away from her. One was Gammy Johnson. One was an old woman. One, from the back, appeared to be a Vietnamese official. The other two looked like Lan and Hang. “Jeff!” Gen called out.
He turned toward her.
“Come here, quick.”
Jeff thanked the woman at the desk and walked toward Gen, holding a yellow piece of paper in his hand. He scooped up Binh.
“Come with me,” Gen said and then glanced at Binh. No, they couldn’t take off down the hall, not with him. She stopped.
“What is it?” Jeff asked.
“I think I saw Lan with Cammy.” She pointed down the hall.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Wait here with Binh and Mai. I’ll go see.” Without waiting for an answer, Gen handed him the baby and started down the hall, walking quickly, then running, her sandals slapping against the tiles. She couldn’t see the group of five; they’d turned the corner. She reached the end of the hall and peered to the right. The hallway sloped downward.
She looked to the left toward two elevators. The hotel was huge; it covered an entire block. Which way had they gone? She’d never find them if they had gone up the elevator. She looked to the right. Why were they here? Had Lan changed her mind again? Had Binh’s investigation already started? Had the INS official brought Lan to Ho Chi Minh City to question her? No, they had only met Mr. Davis this morning. There was no way he would have brought Lan to the city before he saw Mai’s and Binh’s paperwork.
What if the Vietnamese man was Mr. Tran? Gen took a few steps down the hallway. She heard the sound of a door closing but had no idea which one. What would she say to Lan? To Cammy? She stood in the middle of the hall.
It was too much. Gen turned and walked slowly back to the lobby. Jeff sat in a chair by the fishtank; he held both children in his lap and the piece of yellow paper in his hand.
“It’s a telegram.” Jeff said.
“Who sends telegrams anymore?”
“My brother.”
“What’s wrong?” Gen asked.
“My dad had a heart attack.”
Chapter 42
I got through to the INS officer during the Taylors’ interview,” Older Brother said. He sat in the rocking chair. Hang watched a funny game called rugby on the TV. Big, burly white men attacked each other while a ball flew over their heads. “The officer decided to call for an investigation after I told him what was going on.”
“What did you tell him?” Cam My asked.
Lan stood by the window, watching three men park their bikes in the alley.
“That you’re Lan’s sister. That I think Mai’s adoption is legitimate but that I’m uneasy about Binh’s.” Older Brother’s voice sounded flat.
A small bird landed on a bicycle seat. Lan held her good hand at the base of her throat. She hoped Mrs. Taylor wasn’t frightened. She turned back toward Older Sister and Older Brother.
Cam My pulled a cigarette from her pack and lit it. “You shouldn’t treat Lan this way. She’s had enough heartache in her life.”
“You’re the one who said I should adopt Binh.” Quan rocked the chair back and forth.
“I said Binh needed to be adopted.” Cam My said.
Lan turned toward her siblings. They both stared at her.
Hang turned up the volume on the TV.
Mother poured tea for Older Brother and Cam My. Quan stopped rocking and took a sip.
“You should spend some time with Binh before you decide,” Older Sister said to Older Brother. “Actually, you should spy on Binh with his new father. It would probably change your mind.”
“Why?” Older Brother asked.
“Binh sticks to him like glue. He won’t let him out of his sight. The man carries Binh everywhere.”
Hang turned the volume on the TV louder.
“Cant you control your daughter?” Older Brother stared at Lan, then handed his empty cup to Mother.
Lan stood and took the remote from Hang’s hand. “How does this work?” she asked.
Hang grabbed the remote back and turned down the volume.
“I can’t ask the Americans to let me spend time with Binh,” Older Brother said to Cam My. “I don’t want them to know that I’m Lan’s brother or that I want to adopt him.”
“Then go and watch Binh. Spy. Go to breakfast tomorrow morning. See what a busy boy he is. See whether you think you could be his father, if you could handle him.”
“Of course I could be his father. I’d teach him to behave.” Older Brother started rocking again.
“Like Father taught you?” Lan asked. “With whippings?”
“That’s the way to raise a son,” Older Brother said, and then he nodded at Hang. “It’s the way to raise a daughter, too.”
Minutes later Older Brother left.
Cam My smashed her cigarette in the ashtray on the desk. Hang slept on the end of the bed. Mother slept on the floor.
“Come up to my room,” Older Sister said.
Lan shook her head. “I shouldn’t.” She felt like a hostage. She wanted to go back to Vung Tau, back to the shack, back to selling cigarettes and souvenirs on the beach. Lan’s stomach hurt; the knot burned deeper. She wanted one last glimpse of Binh before she left.
“Come on,” Older Sister said. “I’m going to check out of here tomorrow or the next day and find a cheaper hotel. I can’t afford to stay here any longer. I have some food in my room. We’ll have more tea.”
Lan followed Cam My
to the elevators in the back of the hotel and up to the third floor. They walked along a balcony surrounding the courtyard. “When do you think you’ll return to the United States?” Lan asked as they entered Older Sister’s room. Besides two twin beds, Older Sister had a sitting area with a small settee and a refrigerator.
“Now that Older Brother has implicated me in Binh’s case, who knows? Maybe in another week.” Older Sister plopped down on a bed. “I need to tell you,” she said, “that the Taylors know who I am.”
“What do you mean?”
“I sat with them at lunch. A couple walked by with their little boy I’d arranged their son’s adoption.”
“I don’t understand,” Lan said, sitting beside Older Sister.
“That adoption has already been investigated. The family is furious with me, and now it seems they know the Taylors. I’m sure they told them that I facilitated their adoption. If Maggie Benson told the Taylors the facilitator who is in trouble—that would be me—is your sister, they would put it all together. They’ll know I had lunch with them on purpose and that Binh and Mai are my nephew and niece.”
“Did Binh speak to you at lunch?”
“He said he likes his ba, all the food he gets, and the gifts they brought,” Cam My lit a cigarette.
Lan smiled as she thought about the backpack and the suitcase.
“He asked about you.” Older Sister sat on the other bed, opposite Lan, and flicked her cigarette in the full ashtray beside the bed.
“What did he ask?” Lan ran her hand along the smooth, satin bedspread.
“If you and Hang could come live with his ba and him here at the hotel,” Cam My said.
Lan tried to smile. A child’s fantasy. “What did he say about his new mother?” Lan’s voice quivered as she spoke.
“Nothing. He got upset when his ba left the restaurant to talk with the other family on the sidewalk.”
Lan closed her eyes. “What do I do about Older Brother?”
“I don’t think there’s anything you can do.”
“What do you mean?” Lan opened her eyes.
“I think he can do whatever he wants. He’s just trying to save face by calling for an investigation and redoing the paperwork.” Cam My stood and walked to the window overlooking the courtyard.
