by Kevin Kwan
“Oh, shit!” Lucie exclaimed as she burst into giggles.
“Stop laughing! I need your help getting these beasts to the smaller riding ring. Mom and Charlotte have already taken the Westie, the Chihuahua, and the duck.”
Lucie gamely helped to wrangle the big dogs, and when they had been safely ensconced in their plush indoor riding ring, she went to the ladies’ powder room in the main house to tidy up. As she stood in front of the large mirror over the sink, trying to brush off what seemed like a million dog hairs from her party dress, a tall patrician lady in her seventies entered the powder room.
“Hello, Lucie,” the lady greeted her warmly.
Lucie looked up, surprised to see her neighbor from 999 Fifth Avenue. “Hi, Ms. Ferrer.”
“My God, what have you been doing, wrestling a polar bear?”
“Actually, he was a Great Pyrenees.”
“Here, let me help you. Don’t use your hands—one of these dry towels would be far better,” Ms. Ferrer said, as she expertly began brushing off the fur caught on Lucie’s ruffles.
“Oh, wow. How did you know that would work?”
“I was a photo editor at Life magazine for more than a decade, my dear. We had to deal with every conceivable issue on our shoots.”
“It’s so nice of you to come to Mom’s fund-raiser. I didn’t realize Mom even told anyone in the building about her event.”
“She didn’t. It was Mrs. Zao who did such a good job of convincing me to come out for the gala.”
“Rosemary’s here tonight?” Lucie said, quietly alarmed.
“I haven’t seen her yet, but I assume she’s coming.”
“How is her application to live in the building coming along?” Lucie knew she shouldn’t be asking, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Oh, I can’t talk about that. These applications are strictly confidential.”
“Sorry.”
Ms. Ferrer leaned in. “But I will tell you—entre nous—your mother really surprised us.”
“How so?” Lucie asked, getting a bit nervous.
“She submitted a grossly inappropriate recommendation letter.”
“Really?” Lucie felt a sudden pang of fear.
“Yes, it was the most hilarious letter, a brilliant practical joke. I almost lost my mind reading it! Everyone on the board was rolling on the floor! Who knew your mother could be so funny? Which reminds me, I still need to thank her for it.”
Suddenly overcome with the panic of not only her mother discovering her fake co-op letter, but her whole plan misfiring, Lucie found herself blurting out, “Ms. Ferrer, there are some things I think you ought to know about Rosemary Zao!”
“Oh, and what might that be?”
“She’s not the woman you think she is.”
“What do you mean? Aren’t your families very close?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it that. Rosemary has been trying to cultivate my mother all summer, and as you know, Mom just tries to be polite to everyone.”
“She does, doesn’t she? Your mother is very polite.”
“If you must know, Mrs. Zao is very social—when I first met her in Italy, she told me about all the wild parties she used to go to in Lan Kwai Fong,” Lucie said, taking her own liberties with the truth.
“What’s Lan Kwai Fong?”
“It’s the red-light district of Hong Kong.”*1
“My goodness! Was Rosemary one of those Suzie Wong party girls?”
“I don’t know what that is, but she did party. She partied very hard.”
“I can’t even imagine. She seems so fastidious and well put together. I love her understated elegance.”
“Let me show you something, Ms. Ferrer.” Lucie took out her phone and found a group photo she had taken at the Peking duck dinner. She zoomed in on Rosemary striking a flamboyant pose in one of her signature rainbow-colored sequined caftans.
“That’s Mrs. Zao?” Ms. Ferrer stared at the screen in disbelief.
“Uh-huh.”
“Why is she wearing kabuki makeup?”
“She’s not. That’s how she normally looks.”
“You don’t say! And those Christmas ornaments around her neck…this wasn’t some theme party?”
“It was just a family dinner, and those aren’t Christmas ornaments, Ms. Ferrer. Those are real rubies and diamonds, and that’s how Rosemary dresses when she’s not attending co-op board interviews.”
“How interesting…”
Just then, a flush could be heard in one of the toilets connected to the powder room, and Cornelia Guest emerged from behind the door. Acknowledging Lucie and Ms. Ferrer with the briefest of smiles, she quickly washed her hands and left the powder room.
Ms. Ferrer continued. “Well, Lucie, I am quite astonished. Thank you for letting me know all this.”
“You’re quite welcome. Ms. Ferrer, can we keep this conversation totally between us?”
“Absolutely. I take my duties very seriously. Any information provided to the board president shall remain private.”
“Even from my mother?”
“Of course.” Ms. Ferrer patted Lucie’s hand as she left the room.
Lucie leaned against the sink, letting out a groan. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How much did Cornelia overhear? What would she think now?
Collecting herself, Lucie left the powder room in search of the guest of honor. She had to do as much damage control as she could. She couldn’t let Cornelia, of all people, get the wrong impression of her. Entering the drawing room of the manor house, she found herself face-to-face with Rosemary Zao, who stood chatting with Ms. Ferrer.
Fuck me again, Lucie moaned to herself.
“Lucie! We were just talking about you,” Rosemary said in her usual excitable tone.
“You—you were?” Lucie stammered, noticing that Rosemary was still sporting her new look in a sophisticated but subdued champagne-colored Akris pantsuit accessorized with a stunningly simple amber bead necklace.
“Yes, we were. Actually, Ms. Ferrer, could you excuse us for a minute? I have something important to discuss with Lucie.”
“Certainly,” Ms. Ferrer said, arching an eyebrow.
Rosemary and Lucie went into the adjoining sitting room, and taking a seat on one of the armchairs, Rosemary gave Lucie a sad look. “So, I need you to be very honest with me…”
Lucie took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Okay?”
“Are Freddie and George fighting?”
Oh thank God, I thought Ms. Ferrer ratted on me. “Freddie and George? Not that I know of. Why?”
“George refused to come with me to this gala tonight. In fact, he hasn’t been out to East Hampton two weekends in a row. Normally he can’t wait to drive out the moment he gets off work on Fridays. He said he has too much work, but I don’t believe it.”
“Well, maybe he does have too much work.” She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know one thing that happened between me and George.
“But it’s so strange that he would miss this weekend, especially because he’s been so excited for your mom’s charity gala all summer. Do you know he found the jazz band for your mom? They are the band from the Peace Hotel in Shanghai, and he flew all of them here to New York first class and paid for them to perform tonight.”*2
“I had no idea…” Why would he do all that for Mom?
“He’s been even more quiet than usual. I can sense that something’s wrong but I don’t know what. So I thought maybe it had something to do with Freddie. They have become such good friends. They even went skinny-dipping in some pond the other day with Auden Beebe.”
“I wish I could help you, Mrs. Zao, but I’m as much in the dark as you are.”
“Well, if you get the chance to talk to George, can you try to find out for me what’s bothering him?”
“Mrs. Zao, I’d like to help, but you know I’m going to Mongolia next week. I might not be back till Christmas.”
“Not back till Christmas! Is Cecil going with you?” Rosemary asked in surprise.
“Excuse me, but I need to take care of something for my mother before the dinner starts,” Lucie said awkwardly, as she got up from her armchair and rushed off.
She couldn’t find Cornelia anywhere as she wandered through the various rooms, inner courtyards, and the stables, her panic growing with every minute. She knew she needed to get to her before the dinner began. Finally, she found Cornelia in the indoor ring, crouched down on the floor playing with her dogs.
“Hi, Cornelia!” Lucie chirped.
“Oh, hi,” Cornelia answered as she gave Olive, her Westie, a big kiss. “I’m sorry you’ve been banished here, but you’ve all been naughty dogs tonight!”
“I, um, just wanted to…to explain…,” Lucie stammered.
Cornelia looked up with a diplomatic smile. “Lucie, it was none of my business. There’s nothing you need to tell me.”
“Oh. Okay. But I just wanted to say, in case you might have heard some things out of context, it really isn’t what it looks like.”
“It’s fine, Lucie. Shall we go in to dinner?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’m told the dining tent is down by the ocean.”
“Yes, I’ll show you the way. But I just wanted you to know that I was actually trying to help my mother in there. I’m just trying to protect her from this woman who’s…”
Cornelia put down her terrier, stood up, and looked Lucie straight in the face. “Lucie, I’m really trying to stay out of your business, but it seems like you won’t let it go. Who are we kidding here? You were in the middle of a takedown, a total smear campaign. Now, I don’t live in your building, I don’t know any of these people, and this really doesn’t concern me, but please have some self-respect and stop trying to bullshit me. Because the only person you’re deceiving is yourself. And from the looks of it the only thing you’ll succeed in doing is pissing off your mother.”
Cornelia turned and walked out of the room, leaving Lucie red-faced and speechless.
*1 Lucie’s completely mistaken. Lan Kwai Fong is an upscale entertainment district popular with expats and tourists and is unconnected in any way with Wan Chai, the decidedly wilder neighborhood that’s home to bars, brothels, and nightclubs that are equally as popular with expats and tourists.
*2 The jazz band at Shanghai’s Peace Hotel is one of the city’s most beloved institutions. Often described as “the oldest jazz band on the planet,” its dapper musicians range from their late sixties to their ninety-nine-year-old former trumpeter Zhou Wanrong. Xiao Xueqiang, saxophonist and manager of the band, reports, “He still comes around to perform with us once in a while, but now he shakes the maracas instead.”
XVIII
Montauk Highway
THE HAMPTONS
“I hate to admit it, but the one good thing you got out of Cecil was this car,” Marian said to Lucie from the driver’s seat of the Aston Martin as she sped along Montauk Highway. They had spent the day in Manhattan, meeting up with the Ortiz sisters at the Colony Club for lunch and running last-minute errands before Lucie’s big trip.
“I’m glad someone’s driving it. I just never thought it would be you,” Lucie remarked distractedly. The full enormity of all her decisions over the past few weeks was finally crashing down on her. Why did I tell George I never wanted to see him again? Why did I break his heart?
“Yeah, I never imagined myself in a car like this either, but it really drives like a dream. And if we were anywhere but the Hamptons, I’d be too embarrassed. But you know, life is short. Why the hell shouldn’t I drive a sports car if I want to? Am I not entitled to my own midlife crisis?”
“You deserve a nice car, Mom,” Lucie said. Why did I fake that co-op letter? Why did I lie to Ms. Ferrer? Why did I lie to Rosemary?
“Are you sure Cecil doesn’t want it back? I’m really getting quite attached to Chad.”
“You’ve named the car Chad?”
“Don’t you think he looks like a Chad? I had a mad crush on this guy back in high school named Chad. He was on the basketball team.”
Ew. Why is Mom telling me about her high school crushes? Why can’t I get George out of my mind? “I dunno…I’ve always found it weird when people anthropomorphize machines.”
“Weird or not, I hope Cecil’s not taking Chad back.”
“For the eleventh time, Mom, I told you he won’t take Chad…it…back. He said to consider it a breakup gift.”
“Ha! Chad’s a mighty generous breakup gift.”
“The cost of this car to someone like Cecil is like the cost of a bag of Cheetos to you and me.”
“Yes, I gather that’s why the Ortiz sisters had a hard time believing Cecil wouldn’t be dropping in to visit you during the grand expedition, especially when he’s got his own jet. I don’t get why you won’t tell them about your breakup. I’m sure they already suspect. I could see it in Mercedes’s face. She doesn’t say as much as Paloma, but she’s very astute.”
“I’ll tell them after we’ve left New York, Mom,” Lucie said. Why am I going to spend four months traveling through Central Asia with two nice ladies I’ve just lied to? Why the hell can’t I get Cornelia Guest’s words out of my head? “The only person you’re deceiving is yourself.”
“What’s the big secret? You finally dumped Cecil and we should all be celebrating. I always thought you were too young to be getting married anyway.”
“Well, that’s what I realized too. I am too young, and I want to enjoy the rest of my twenties. As you know, I’m going to be twenty-five next year, and that’s when the Churchill trust kicks in. Maybe I’ll use that money and get a place in LA.” The only person you’re deceiving is yourself.
“LA? You want to move to LA? Why would you want to move to a place that’s devoid of culture and has no seasons?”
“It’s not devoid of culture. The food scene’s exploding and so is the art scene.* So many artists I know have moved out there, and they’re all loving it. I can’t wait to try it out.” The only person you’re deceiving is yourself.
“You want to use your trust fund to buy a house in a city that’s full of wildfires and earthquakes? Really smart, Lucie. But I suppose your moving there and having your house burn to the ground is the price we’ll have to pay for getting rid of Cecil.” Marian sighed.
“Mom, tell me, why in all the years that I was dating Cecil did you never express to me how much you hated him?”
“I never hated him, Lucie. He irritated me to no end, but I could see that he was a wounded bird, so I felt sorry for him. That father of his clearly did a number on him while he was around. Besides, what would have been the point of my saying anything? You seemed to like him, and he worshipped the ground you walked on. I didn’t want to come between the both of you.”
“But you’re a Chinese mother. Isn’t it your job to come between us?”
“Ha! I’ve gone out of my way not to be a Chinese mother, you know that!”
“Why is that, Mom?”
“What? Would you prefer me to be some sort of Tiger Mom and drag you down to Chinatown every Saturday for Mandarin classes and force you to take classical Chinese dance? Not allow you to have sleepovers or have a phone or date any white boys until you were thirty? Because that’s how I grew to resent my mother.”
“Wow. Sounds like Freddie and I dodged a bullet.”
“You sure did. You guys hit the jackpot when you got me as your bad mama.”
Driving down Main Street in East Hampton, Marian suddenly made a right turn on Dunemere Lane.
“Where are you going?”
“Oh, Charlotte texted as we were leaving the city.
She was at the Maidstone meeting up with a friend, and she wanted to catch a ride back with us.”
“There’s no room, Mom.”
“Well, you could squeeze into the bucket seat in the back for a few minutes, can’t you?”
“Why can’t Charlotte just take a cab like everyone else? She’s so cheap! And of course she’s richer than all of us put together.”
“Stop complaining. We’re almost there and I did promise her.”
“Can you put the top down if I’m going to have to squeeze in the back?” Lucie asked.
“If you can figure out how to get the top down, you can have the top down,” Marian replied.
“How many PhDs do you have? See, it’s this button right here,” Lucie said, reaching for a switch on the center console. The convertible roof of the car began to retract in the most elegant manner. As the view opened up around them, they drove passed Cissinghurst, and through the hedges Lucie glimpsed several moving trucks parked in the driveway and men carrying Goyard suitcases out the front door. Lucie said nothing, but a sudden panic washed over her.
The car pulled up to the quietly dignified entrance of the Maidstone Club. “Go get Charlotte, please,” Marian said. Lucie hopped out of the car and ran into the clubhouse. A minute later, she reappeared.
“No sign of Charlotte, Mom. There’s hardly anybody inside the club right now. They’re in the midst of switching over to dinner.”
“Well, this is annoying. Where could she be?” Marian asked as she began texting Charlotte.
“Maybe her friend gave her a ride home?”
“She would have texted me if she had. You know, she probably walked over to Cissinghurst to say hi to Rosemary and poke around. You know what a busybody she is,” Marian surmised. “Let’s head over there.”
“No, no, I think we should stay right here. Maybe Charlotte is in the ladies’ room or something,” Lucie said nervously. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was run into Rosemary right now.
“Well, why don’t you go check the toilet and I’ll run over to Cissinghurst to see if she’s there?”
