The Bride Test

by Helen Hoang

  Unlike Khai. He was meant to be a lone sock. Lone socks had a place in this world, too. Not everyone had two feet.

  “When’s the last time you ate?” Quan asked.

  Khai lifted a shoulder. He couldn’t remember. “It’s okay. I’m not hungry.”

  “Well, I am. You’re going to eat with me.” Quan got up and padded into the kitchen. The fridge opened, plates clattered, silverware clanked, and the microwave hummed and beeped. Soon, they were eating together on the couch as Quan flipped through TV channels until he found a program where ticker symbols scrolled along the bottom.

  Khai hadn’t brushed his teeth, showered, or shaved, and he was fairly certain he was a psychopath, but sitting there with Quan, things seemed better. Eating with his brother and watching TV while sick felt familiar, and fuzzy memories flickered in his mind.

  Maybe he really had been in this same position before, but as for the rest of it, the brokenhearted stuff, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Early the next week, when Angelika went to take the GED exam, Esme went, too. She didn’t need a GED and had no one to impress, and a high school diploma wasn’t going to help with her work. But the cost hadn’t been horrible, and she’d done all this studying. She told herself she did it to set an example for Jade.

  But deep inside, she knew she did it for herself, too.

  Unconsciously, she’d been studying for it this entire time.

  Usually, she couldn’t do things because the opportunity wasn’t there, and the worry persisted that maybe she couldn’t because she just wasn’t good enough. Maybe all rich people were rich because they deserved it. Maybe she was poor because she, too, deserved it. But now the opportunity was right here, and she wanted to see.

  What happened when you gave someone an opportunity?

  Later that week, she still hadn’t figured out how to solve her visa problem, and the determined fire in her heart had banked. When she got her transcript in her email inbox, she opened it with resignation.

  The contents put goose bumps on her head. She checked the name three times to make sure they hadn’t made a mistake and sent it to the wrong person, but no, the name was unmistakably Esmeralda Tran.

  Under every category, it read: PASS GED College Ready + Credit. She’d achieved perfect scores across the board.

  Did this mean she was smart?

  It did. The proof was right here on her phone. Her heart burst with pride—in herself, for a change. Well, she wasn’t very smart. Just a little smart. Most people graduated from high school here. But that was more than she’d ever dared to dream of. This country girl had a high school diploma.

  This was important. This meant something big. But her mind was too busy with this explosive happiness to grasp it all.

  Her phone buzzed a few times, and when she looked at the screen, she saw she’d received text messages from Angelika.

  I passed!

  We’re celebrating at the boba shop by school.

  Come!!!!!!!

  Why not? She wanted to share her news, but it was the wrong time to call home, and talking to Khải was out.

  She punched in a quick response, checked her spelling twice, and sent it. Congratulations! See you there. :)

  After she finished closing down the restaurant, she untied her apron from her waist, put it away, and waved good-bye to Cô Nga. It took three minutes to cross the street and walk to the bubble-tea shop, and when she stepped inside, the humidity wrapped around her like a blanket. Small flat-screen TVs were mounted on the walls by different groupings of tables. One played a Taiwanese drama. One played a football game. The one by the small group of Esme’s classmates played a golf game.

  Esme waved at everyone, ordered and paid for a plain black tea with milk and pearls, and helped herself to the seat next to Angelika. The space across from her was taken by Miss Q, who was wearing jeans, a relaxed button-down shirt, and, of course, a scarf. Stylish as ever.

  “I knew you would pass,” Miss Q said with a wide smile.

  “Of course she passed.” Angelika flipped her hand like it was a foregone conclusion, and Esme grinned.

  “I passed, thank you. Congratulations to you, too. Congratulations to everyone.”

  The other seats at the table were occupied by three male classmates, Juan, Javier, and John, and they congratulated her back before they got up.

  “We have to go, but glad to see you,” Juan said. “Time for college now, eh?”

  She blinked in shock. The idea had never occurred to her. “Maybe.” She grinned in unexpected excitement before reality caught up with her, and the smile drooped off her lips as she waved at the men. “Bye.”

  “Why the look?” Miss Q asked once the guys had left the shop.

  “I can’t go to college.”

  “Why?” Miss Q and Angelika asked at the same time.

  Esme flinched. “Because I have to go back to Việt Nam on August ninth.” And there was no way she could afford to go to school back home. They needed her income too much, and that didn’t factor in the bribes she’d need to pay to move her paperwork and get accepted anywhere good.

  “What kind of visa do you have?” Miss Q asked.

  Esme looked down at her ugly fingers on the table. “Tourist visa.”

  “Me, too.” Angelika covered Esme’s hand with her own and squeezed. Something sparkly caught Esme’s attention, but Angelika pulled her hand out of sight before Esme could take a closer look.

  “There are other kinds of visas, you know,” Miss Q pointed out. “If you get accepted by a college or university here, they’ll grant you a student visa. They’ll even let you bring your family here for the duration. After you get a degree, you could try for a work visa.”

  The air punched out of Esme’s lungs. “Could I get accepted to a college or university here?”

  Her GED scores flashed in her mind’s eye. PASS GED College Ready + Credit.

  “Of course you could. Were your scores good?” Miss Q asked.

  She nodded, trying to keep the smile off her face and failing, and showed Miss Q her transcript on her phone. “Thank you for teaching me.” She’d earned each of those scores by herself. They were hers.

  And maybe they were the key to belonging here.

  Miss Q grinned and kept on grinning and her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “The pleasure is mine.”

  Excitement bubbled in Esme’s blood like champagne right after they popped the cork. If what Miss Q was saying was true, she actually could become a real accountant. Or maybe something else. She could be anything. She could be sophisticated and educated someday and hold her chin up—even in front of Khải.

  Except there was one problem. “How much is college?” she asked hesitantly.

  “It depends on the school. Anywhere from ten thousand dollars a year to fifty thousand for undergraduates, but there are loan programs and scholarships,” Miss Q said.

  Tension stole through Esme’s muscles. Ten thousand American dollars was more than she’d made in her whole lifetime. If a job here wasn’t guaranteed, she didn’t know if she dared to take out a loan like that once, let alone four times. But if she could keep working at Cô Nga’s, she could probably manage. It would be tight, but that wouldn’t be anything new.

  She was mentally doing the math, figuring out how many shifts she could take and subtracting the costs of rent, food, and tuition, when Miss Q added, “In your case, you’d have to get a scholarship because you’re not allowed to work on a student visa, but I know schools nearby that offer them, even to international students. With your GED scores and personal experience, you have a chance, Esme. I’m going to contact the people I know and see if they’ll consider you as a special case.”

  Esme’s lips moved without making sound. She understood the individual meanings of the words
spoken, but she was in too much shock to interpret their overall message. She knew about failure and struggling to earn her way. Generosity of this magnitude didn’t make sense to her.

  “Keep your eyes open for my email, okay? It could come any day. If I send you an application, fill it out and send it to me right away. I’m going to go call my friends now. Good-bye, you two.” Miss Q charged out of the boba shop like she was on a mission, going so fast Esme didn’t even have time to thank her.

  Could Miss Q really help Esme get a scholarship? That would be . . . amazing. And everything. It was, she realized, her very last option.

  Experience told her to check her enthusiasm, but Miss Q believed in her, and she really had passed the GED with perfect scores. If she could do that, just think of all the other things she could do if she had the chance. This was real. This might actually happen. And her hope grew out of control.

  Originally, she’d envisioned herself marrying Khải and continuing life as a waitress. That was great, wasn’t it? She’d give Jade a wonderful future that way, and she’d be with Khải. Maybe they’d make more babies.

  But now, a new dream formed in her heart, one she’d never dared to encourage but wanted with breathless intensity: doing something she was passionate about, changing this world for the better, being more. She didn’t even know what she was good at, but if she could explore and learn . . .

  One of the workers at the shop handed Esme her milk tea, and she thanked him and drew the sweetened tea and chewy pearls into her mouth through the large straw. The TV flashed to a close-up of a golf player, and the DMSoft logo on his hat looked familiar.

  After a second, she remembered that was where Khải worked. On the top floor, in a closet. It had to be a big company if they sponsored golf tournaments. Good for Khải. Maybe if he worked hard, they’d promote him, and someday he could redo his yard.

  “What happened to your boyfriend?” Angelika asked, breaking the silence.

  Esme’s hands tightened around her milk tea. “No more boyfriend. Not ever boyfriend.” They’d just been . . . housemates who slept together.

  Now that she was gone, she hoped he was climbing the walls with sexual frustration. She hoped he thought of her when he pleasured himself. Because he’d be doing a lot of that from now on.

  Unless he met someone new.

  Her hackles rose as she imagined Khải with another woman, kissing her the way Esme liked, caressing her the way Esme needed, letting her touch him the way only Esme ever had. Would he trust another woman with his body now that Esme had “initiated” him? She supposed she should feel proud if that was the case, but it just made her want to claw this imaginary woman’s face like an angry jungle cat.

  She shook her head to clear it of the violent thoughts, and found Angelika watching her with sad understanding.

  “He was a good catch,” Angelika said. “My fiancé, he is sixty. And gone all the time for business.” She looked down at her dazzling engagement ring. That was what Esme had noticed earlier. Angelika had gotten engaged without saying anything. “His children hate me. They are older than I am.”

  “In time, they will see,” Esme said.

  Angelika looked down at her left hand, fisted it, and dropped it below the table. “I do not think so. They keep telling me to go back to Russia, and they are convincing him to get the vasectomy—you know, so he cannot have more babies? I am afraid this will end in divorce. Or not happen at all.”

  “Why do they—”

  “To protect the money when he dies,” Angelika said bitterly. “I agreed to sign a contract before the wedding, so if we divorce, I do not get anything. But that is not enough for them. I always wanted a family.”

  “Does he . . . love you?” Esme asked.

  A soft smile spread over Angelika’s lips. “Yeah, he does. And I love him.”

  Esme squeezed her friend’s arm. “Then you two will be fine.” Unlike Esme and Khải.

  Angelika smiled before her expression went thoughtful. “A scholarship sounds good, but have you thought of dating other people?”

  Esme shook her head.

  Angelika sent her an impatient look. “It is just dating, Esmeralda.”

  “Dating has kissing and touching and . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say sex. The thought of being with another man so soon made her skin crawl. A different woman would be out romancing every desperate man she could find—she had Jade to think about, after all—but Esme couldn’t make herself do it. She was probably naïve for thinking this way, but if she married, it had to be a real marriage. She didn’t have the heart to take advantage of anyone or hurt them. That meant she had to fall out of love first. “I am not ready.”

  Angelika’s lips thinned, but she eventually nodded. “I hope you get that scholarship. I don’t want you to leave. You are my only friend here.”

  Esme told herself to prepare for disappointment. But her heart wouldn’t listen. She had this dream now, and she’d never wanted anything so much. She clasped Angelika’s hand, and her friend squeezed back.

  “Me, too,” Esme said. “Me, too.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Khai had done this before. He could do it today. He was mostly over his flu. Shoes off, sock-clad feet on hardwood, the fog of incense, the heavy floral scent emanating from the numerous white bouquets, and there, on the far side of the main room, an altar with a large golden statue of Buddha sitting on a lotus blossom.

  He strode past the family and friends dressed mostly in gray robes, sitting cross-legged on the rugs on the floor, and approached the altar. One of the monks up there handed him a stick of incense, and Khai accepted it awkwardly. He didn’t know what the hell to do with it. This was his mom’s scene, not his. He stabbed it into the giant bowl of rice with the other incense and considered the photograph in front of the statue. Andy standing next to his blue Honda motorcycle.

  Andy wore the same smartass grin he flashed every time he delivered a great comeback. He always had a comeback, always. Sometimes, he even thought up things to say in advance, so he’d be ready when the occasion came. Not like Khai, who either froze up when people teased him or didn’t realize he was being teased in the first place.

  He touched his fingertips to the picture, and the coldness of the glass surprised him. He didn’t usually spend time contemplating philosophical questions about life and humanity, but right now, as he stared at his cousin’s likeness in paper and resin, he wondered what made a person a person. Was it something mystical like a soul? Something scientific like neural connections in the brain? Or something simpler, like the ability to make someone miss you ten years after you’d died?

  He recognized the dull emptiness inside of him as missing someone. He missed Andy. And he missed Esme. But that wasn’t the same as being heartbroken. Quan was wrong about that.

  When she stepped into the pagoda and set her shoes by the front door with all the other pairs, his entire body froze.

  Esme.

  She wore the same shapeless black dress from before, and for a confused moment, it felt like she’d walked straight from Michael’s wedding here. But two weeks had passed. Logically, Khai knew that.

  Her eyes met his. Her expression was tense at first, but after a moment, her lips curved slightly. It wasn’t her usual brain-scrambling smile, but it was still a smile. Sharp needles of sensation pricked his skin from head to toe, and he dragged air into his lungs with effort.

  She padded barefoot around all the people on the rugs and stopped next to him by the statue and Andy’s picture. “I came to help with the food after,” she said in a low tone.

  The monk handed her a stick of incense, and she inclined her head and thanked him before pressing the incense between her palms and bowing to the statue the way Khai should have. After she stuck the incense in the rice bowl, she considered the photograph of Andy, touched the motorcycle, and gazed
at Khai with an unreadable expression on her face.

  “It was his?” she asked.

  He didn’t think he could speak, so he nodded. The motorcycle had been Andy’s most prized possession, and Dì Mai had given it to Khai, saying Andy would have wanted him to have it. His mom had been angry at first, but when Khai didn’t ride it, she’d forgotten about it.

  Most of the time, Khai forgot about it, too, and that was what he preferred. He automatically pushed the motorcycle and accompanying memories to the back of his mind and focused on Esme. Her skin was paler than normal, and she’d lost weight, but she was still unmistakably Esme. No one else had eyes that specific shade of green. So pretty. The need to hold her became a visceral ache in his muscles and bones, but she stepped away before he could act.

  She padded around the sitting area and sat on the edge apart from everyone. His mom waved at him from where she sat with Dì Mai, Sara, Quan, Vy, Michael, and other family members, but he walked past them and seated himself next to Esme.

  “Why are you— You should sit with family,” Esme said with a deep frown.

  A metal bowl rang, signaling the ceremony was beginning, and he was grateful. He didn’t know how to explain himself. He just needed to be at her side.

  A skinny bespectacled man in gold robes and Buddhist rosary beads launched into a speech on loss and time healing all wounds, and Khai tuned the words out. He couldn’t breathe. It was like someone had him in an invisible choke hold. He pulled at the collar of his shirt, but he hadn’t worn a tie and the top buttons weren’t fastened. He shouldn’t feel this way.

  Cameras flashed now and then, and videographers filmed the speech as the crowd listened in rapt attention. His aunt had invited a celebrity monk from Southern California to the pagoda, and it was a big honor to have him speak about Andy. Khai, however, wished he’d stop. Every time he heard his cousin’s name, this suffocating sensation worsened.