by Kwan, Kevin
“It’s okay, Mrs. Zao. It was a long time ago,” Lucie said, rather surprised at Rosemary’s words.
“And then for George to try to win your love again in East Hampton, when you are already engaged. Aye yie yie, my son has no shame. I know how he must have offended you and Cecil. As his mother, I am ashamed too. Because it’s all my fault.”
“How is any of this your fault?”
“I have always encouraged George to pursue his passions, to always seek out his truth and follow his heart. I just didn’t know he would go so far following his heart that he would end up hurting you like this. That’s why I have to leave.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I moved out of Shittinghurst today and I’ve also retracted my offer on the cute little apartment in your building. Who was I kidding? I would have never been accepted by that board anyway. It’s such a nice building, I’m sure they don’t want more than one Chinese family.”
Lucie sank down on the Wegner chair, not sure what to say. She had succeeded beyond her wildest imagination in getting rid of the Zaos, and now she was flooded with guilt.
“But where will you live?”
“Don’t worry about me. I have so many houses. I think I want to go back to Hong Kong for a while, and then I’ll see where George lands.”
“What do you mean ‘where George lands’?” Lucie asked.
“George resigned from his job this morning.”
“Noooo!”
“Yes, he’s going to look for a job in another city. He says it’s too painful to be here.”
“No, no, no. Can you stop him? He really shouldn’t have to give up his job.” Lucie rose from her chair in alarm.
“He wanted to quit his job.”
“But he was doing so well there! Isn’t he about to start a big new project in Queens? The apartments made out of trash?”
“It’s out of the question now, Lucie. Come on, how can my son be here, after all he’s done to you?”
“But I don’t mind, Mrs. Zao. Really, I don’t. Besides, I’m going to be away. I’m going to be traveling for the next four or five months at least with the Ortiz sisters. I’m going to Mongolia, and then I’ll be driving along the Silk Road from China to Italy. George doesn’t need to give up his job. He shouldn’t give up his job!” Lucie found herself pacing the room, hyperventilating. She was overwhelmed and angry with herself. She couldn’t stand thinking that she might have ruined George’s career.
“I don’t understand why you’re driving from China to Italy. Doesn’t Cecil have his own plane? Don’t you have to plan your big wedding?”
“There isn’t going to be a wedding, Mrs. Zao.”
“Why? Are you going to elope in Vegas?”
“Cecil and I aren’t getting married,” Lucie blurted out before she could help herself.
“Whaaaat?!”
“Yes, I ended things with Cecil last week,” Lucie confessed.
Rosemary’s jaw dropped, and then she said almost in a whisper, “Last week?”
“Yes.”
“Now I know why Cecil didn’t show up to your mom’s gala. I thought it was because he was scared of Cornelia Guest!”
“Well, I’m scared of her too, but that wasn’t the reason.”
“Then I’m confused. Why did you break up with Cecil? I thought you were so excited to have that big lavish wedding in Abu Dhabi.” Lucie could see Rosemary’s mind going into overdrive.
“I realized I didn’t love Cecil. I realized that I would never be the perfect trophy wife. I want a chance at a new life. I want to travel and move to Los Angeles to become an art dealer. And that’s why George should stay here. You both should stay here, Mrs. Zao. You shouldn’t have to leave your comfortable house in East Hampton. My mother would miss you so much,” Lucie pleaded, fighting back tears.
“I would miss her too. But we’ve done enough damage, Lucie. It would be too awkward for you to have to be around me and my son all the time.”
“No, it wouldn’t, Mrs. Zao. It wouldn’t at all!”
“Really? Then why did you tell him you never wanted to see him again? Why did you make him promise to leave you alone?”
“He told you that?”
“Yes, he said you commanded him never to set foot in any of your houses again. And so he won’t.”
“But I didn’t really mean it that way …”
“What did you mean then? Because he took you at your word, dear. That’s the kind of boy he is. He is true to his word, and the last thing he would ever do is hurt anyone. He would never wish to hurt you. He still loves you so much, the poor boy. I can see how he’s suffering every day.”
Lucie suddenly burst into uncontrollable sobs.
“Hiyah! Now you’re crying. Why are you crying?”
Lucie couldn’t answer through her heaving sobs.
Rosemary narrowed her eyes. “Is it because there’s some tiny part of you that actually has feelings for my son?”
“Of course I do.”
“What, you’re feeling sorry for him now?”
“I don’t feel sorry for him. I love him,” Lucie cried.
Rosemary tilted her head dubiously. “You really love my son?”
“I’ve always loved him!” As much as it hurt, Lucie felt an intense relief to finally say it.
“So why did you tell him you didn’t? Why did you have to go and break my boy’s heart?”
Lucie crumbled onto the sofa. “I don’t know. I was confused, I was ashamed. I was afraid of what my family would say …”
“Your family? Do you mean your mother?”
“My mother, yes, but also my extended family. You don’t know what it’s like for me. Ever since I was little, it’s always seemed like my mother’s only wanted me to be around my dad’s family. It’s as though Mom’s ashamed of her Chinese roots—I hardly ever see my Chinese grandparents. I know she rebelled against her parents by marrying my dad, and I didn’t think she’d ever want me to fall in love with a Chinese boy either. And I thought my father’s family would be disappointed in me if I didn’t marry some billionaire prince. I’ve been in a no-win situation all my life. My Chinese relatives treat me like I’m some sort of precious unicorn, too good to be one of them, and my WASP relatives treat me like I’m not good enough for them,” Lucie cried.
Rosemary put her arms around Lucie as her tears kept falling. “You poor muddled girl! You’ve been deluded into being racist toward yourself! You don’t even know how strong your mother is. She’s not ashamed of her Asian roots at all! Do you want to know what she told me a few weeks ago? We had a long talk late one night on the beach, and she told me she made a decision to sacrifice her own family so that you and Freddie could spend as much time as you could with your Churchill family. Because she felt that you got plenty of Chinese influence with her at home, she wanted the both of you to maintain as strong of a link as possible to your father. She was so sad that you lost him at such a young age, and she felt terrible that she got so sick she couldn’t help you deal with it properly at the time.”
Lucie was stunned. “Why did she never tell me this?”
“I don’t know.” Rosemary sighed. “Why do mothers and their children never tell each other the most important things?”
They sat silently next to each other for a long while. As she dried her tears, Lucie spoke up again.
“Mrs. Zao, it’s my turn to say sorry. I’m so sorry for all I put you and George through. I never wanted to hurt him either, and I hope he’ll be able to forgive me.”
“I know he will.”
“I love your son, and I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks anymore!”
“No one will think anything, dear. They will keep loving you, and I know they will love my son. It makes me so sad that you’ve wasted so much time deceiving yourself thinking that it would be any different.”
Lucie broke into smile. Cornelia was right. She had done nothing but deceive herself, and the deception hadn’t just begun this sum
mer. It has started all those years ago in Capri, at the moment she had been caught with George at Villa Jovis. That moment had changed everything. It had threatened to explode her whole world, and it sent her into a tailspin. It had forced her unconsciously to lock up her body and soul, and it made her seek out safe harbor with Cecil Pike, a man who she knew could never break her heart.
“I don’t know what came over me, Mrs. Zao. It’s like I’ve been trapped in a bubble for so long … since Capri, actually … It’s like I’ve been sleepwalking through my life ever since.”
“I understand. Something fateful happened in Capri that changed you and George. It changed the both of you forever.”
Lucie sat up properly and gave Rosemary an awkward look. “There’s something else I really need to apologize for Mrs. Zao …”
“If it’s about the co-op thing, I already know.”
“You do?”
“Yes, Ms. Ferrer sat next to me at your mother’s party. We had a very long talk. She wanted to know all about my years as a prostitute in Lan Kwai Fong.”
III
* * *
CAPRI
May 2019
From: Charlotte Barclay
To: [email protected]
Subject: Catching up!
Dear Lucie,
Thank you for the lovely postcard. It’s filling me with wanderlust and making me wish I had more time to travel! Speaking of which, guess what I’ve managed to convince your mother to do? After the huge success of her Chinese cooking classes with Rosemary at the Preppie Guru Lounge last fall, we are bringing their classes to London this summer! Yes, it’s high time Londoners experience some truly authentic Chinese home cooking, and I’ve already found the most wonderful venue for them, thanks to the generosity of my friend Yotam Ottolenghi, and I can’t wait for everyone here to experience their double act.
I don’t know how much you’ve been keeping up with the news since you have been so busy, but I think you’ll be amused to know that Cecil’s torrid romance/international incident has been filling up tabloid space both in the US and here in the UK. He helped this beautiful Middle Eastern princess, HRH Sheika Kiza,fn1 whom he met at the Paris couture shows, escape her awful husband. Apparently she was so taken by Cecil’s knowledge of Judy Chicago and feminist art that she decided to reclaim her divine feminine power, fled in the dead of night, and was taken aboard Cecil’s super yacht, which was secretly anchored in the Gulf of Aden. They are now safely ensconced in London, where she is suing her husband for divorce and seeking full custody of their child, the little prince. No doubt she will be well protected by Cecil and his mother’s lawyers! Mordecai told me that Cecil’s tapped him to oversee a new decorating team to make his mansion fit for the princess, and Olivia is in talks with them to do a documentary about the whole situation. BTW, how is her film project going with George?
Meanwhile, the new Preppie Guru Lounge in Shoreditch is progressing nicely. Auden and I hope we can open by September (fingers crossed!) and I’ll be able to transition from full-time with Mary Berry to a project-by-project basis as I help Auden launch in London. He’s back in New York teaching a flower essence therapy class at the moment, and as much as I adore him, to tell you the truth it’s nice to have the flat to myself for a few days (the towel alignment training is still under way). We’ll know before the end of the month whether we can visit you in July. I know I sound like a broken record, but I’m trying to work around some deadlines.
I saved the best for last … I saw Cacky at the Central Park Conservancy Luncheon (wearing the most ridiculous hat!), and of course she couldn’t wait to casually drop that she has been given an audience with the pope this summer—thanks to the intercession of her new BFF Reneé Pike—and she’s bringing Granny along to the Vatican. After Rome, they want to visit you and Prince George in Capri. Believe it or not, Granny wants to spend more time getting to know George, because some Norwegian countess who’s part of her bridge club in Hobe Sound told her that he’s a direct descendant of Qing dynasty emperors! You’ve been warned.
Love,
Charlotte
From: Lucie Churchill
To: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Catching up!
Dear Charlotte,
I can’t believe that silly story that Cecil made up about George is still making the rounds. Is Harry Stuyvesant Fish spending my tax dollars bragging about his precious tenants over lavish diplomatic dinners at the US Consulate in Norway? If Cacky and Granny do end up coming to Capri, I’m sure George will be gracious enough to give them the royal treatment. (Not sure about me.)
Thanks for all the updates! As you know, George and I decided to quit social media as an experiment, and since I’m so rarely online now, I really haven’t kept up with any news. The days seem to fly past because most of my time is spent in a joyous painting frenzy. You’ll probably be shocked to know that my new canvases are full of color. George calls it my “rose period.”
Living here on Capri has inspired and rewarded me in so many astonishing, unexpected ways, and I’m so grateful that George and I seized this opportunity and threw caution to the wind. Of course, it was easier for him since he’d already quit his job, but for me it seemed so irresponsible to drop everything and move to a tiny island in the Mediterranean for a couple of years without a clue what I was going to do. But I keep thinking of that little framed quote from Auden’s friend Gemma Rose that hangs on his office wall in Amagansett: “When we align with the truth of who we are, all things are possible.”
George’s renovation of Issie and Dolfi’s villa is coming along splendidly and will hopefully be done well before her second baby arrives. It’s already looking so exquisite, and I’m told it will be the first LEED green-certified house on the island! Meanwhile, the top secret project that Dolfi’s parents commissioned George to design in Rome is shaping up to be something that will be a game changer for the city. Olivia has been doing a marvelous job documenting his work, though I have to wonder what kind of Jedi-level guilt trip you must have laid on her. She’s been so sweet to us, and I think she still feels like she has to atone for her ghastly film. It will be so exciting to see what she’s creating for this new project of George’s. I’m more impressed every day by George’s talent and how aligned he is with nature. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.
Speaking of happy, did you see those pictures Freddie posted? I cannot believe that after driving the Ortiz sisters all the way from China to Italy, he would deposit them at the Aman Venice and head straight back to Mongolia to go live with the eagle hunters! Those amazing pictures of him in that crazy beautiful outfit training his eagle on horseback remind me of a cross between Jon Snow and Genghis Khan! I miss him terribly, but I’m glad he’s found his true passion and seems to have found love with Paloma’s lovely granddaughter, Bella Ortiz. (She’s lasted five months, a record for him. And it can’t be easy living with Freddie in a yurt!)
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you the biggest news … a gallery in Florence wants to give me a solo show in September. Can you believe it? I’m so excited but super nervous at the same time—I’m going to have to produce quite a few more works in time for the show. If you speak to Mordecai, can you ask if he has any recommendations for a good pensione in Florence? Preferably one with a view of the Arno.
Really hoping you and Auden can make it in July when Mom and Rosemary visit. The island will be at its most beautiful. It’s finally warm enough to swim in the sea. Guess where George is taking me tomorrow at the crack of dawn?
xoxo,
Lucie
La Grotta Azzurra
Anacapri
It was still pitch dark when they arrived at the steps leading down the cliffside to the entrance of the grotto. George held a flashlight, illuminating the path down to the water as they climbed quietly down the steps.
“This is crazy,” Lucie said, breaking the silence. “Tell me why we’re doing this so early again?”
&nb
sp; “You’ll see,” George said with a little smile. “Okay, we’re at the water’s edge. I’ll dive in first. Hold the flashlight.”
George dove in, gasping at the icy cold water.
“How cold is it?” Lucie called out.
“Not too bad. Now, hand me the flashlight and dive in over here.”
Lucie braced herself, took a deep breath, and dove in.
“Jesus Christ, it’s freezing!” she cursed through her chattering teeth.
“Come on, it’s not that bad. I’m warming up already,” George said, as he swam up to her. “Okay, now follow my light.”
George put the flashlight in his mouth and glided through the darkness, while Lucie swam behind, following the bobbing light. Soon, they were at the mouth of the grotto, which was only about one meter high.
“This is the entrance where the rowboats go in?”
“It’s the one and only entrance,” George said, as he began swimming through the short tunnel. Soon, they were both inside the grotto, its towering limestone walls dimly lit by the weak flashes of light from George’s torch.
“So this is the Blue Grotto. I’m impressed.” Lucie laughed. “This is so silly, I feel like we’re spelunking in the dark.”
“Just wait a few minutes,” George murmured, checking his watch. His timing had been perfect, and it was now exactly 5:45 a.m. Sunrise would come at 5:53 a.m. He turned off his flashlight, and now they were in complete darkness.
“Was this place always here?” Lucie called out.
“It was a cave that formed over millions of years, and the sea levels rose up to what it is now,” George replied. “In Roman times, it was the emperor’s private nymphaeum, his bathing temple. I’m sure he got up to all sorts of nasty business here.”
