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White Gold

Page 17

by Caitlin O'Connell


  “The White Swan hosts international parents that are waiting for passports for their newly adopted baby girls.”

  “All those people are here to adopt babies?”

  “A lot of Americans, actually. Often they stay in this hotel for a month or so while they wait for all the paperwork to clear.”

  “The hotel must be raking it in.”

  “Prospective parents seem happy with the arrangements, as far as I’ve heard. These babies are mostly coming from the countryside. The mothers would have been farmers, with little chance of drug or alcohol abuse. It’s a lot harder to get babies in America—after facing the possibility of waiting years, of course.”

  “Amazing.”

  “Five-star human trafficking.”

  “I’ll say.”

  Sam looked at me delicately. “But something happened back there. Those women seemed to rub you the wrong way. What was it?”

  “Oh, it was nothing.” I hardly wanted to talk about this issue with someone I had just met, let alone someone who I wanted to keep at a distance for Ling-Ru’s sake.

  “You sure?” Sam looked at his watch. “Would you like a bite to eat before we turn in? Or a nightcap?”

  “My stomach still hasn’t recovered from all those dumplings,” I said, but as soon as the words came out, I wasn’t ready to be alone. “But, I guess I could have a nightcap.”

  “Great.”

  We both dropped our bags in our adjacent rooms and headed to the restaurant.

  Confessions

  A waiter seated Sam and me in the empty restaurant. He ordered a hot and sour chicken dish and we both ordered a Tsingtao beer. As the waiter went off to place our order, Sam put the menu down and studied me. “So, what was really going on back there in the elevator? Do you think adopting a baby from China isn’t a good idea?”

  “No. It’s not like that at all.”

  Sam could see that I was struggling to come up with an explanation. “You don’t have to explain. I was just curious how Americans viewed such things.”

  “I’ve actually heard really good things. It’s so hard to adopt in the States, and it takes so long, as you say. I just hadn’t realized that there was a national program in China, including a hotel dedicated to hosting the prospective adoptive parents. It caught me off guard, that’s all.” Sam’s expression was so genuine that I couldn’t help adding, “It’s weird. I’m struggling with something that I just learned about myself, and I feel like now that it’s on my mind, it’s suddenly everywhere around me.”

  “That happens to me a lot. Something could be there all along, but only when you’re focused on it, do you see it.”

  “I think that is definitely part of it.”

  Our beers came and the waiter poured half a glass for each of us.

  Sam offered a toast. “To babies fortunate enough to find loving parents.”

  We touched our glasses together, and I added, “To couples lucky enough to be given a chance at parenthood.”

  Sam’s plate arrived and he inhaled the one chunk of chicken on it that wasn’t more bone than chicken. “I take it you don’t have kids.”

  I shook my head, drawing on the condensation on the side of my beer glass. “You?”

  “Someday. When the time is right.”

  “I’ve always said that to myself, but as time goes by, I wonder what that means. It’s starting to seem like you have to make the time be the right time, otherwise life will carry on and the opportunity passes you by without you realizing it.”

  Sam gnawed small bits of chicken off the bone and took another sip of his beer. “You could look at it like that, I guess. I just don’t want to force it to happen. I’ve seen too many friends starting a family before they’re ready because that is what society tells them is the right thing to do.”

  “Maybe I’m just feeling my biological clock ticking and wonder when that phase is going to start. My current job is definitely not suited to parenthood, so it’s hard to think beyond that.”

  “I heard a little about what happened to you in Beijing. Getting shot must be a pretty sobering experience.”

  I nodded and took a small sip, not wanting the conversation to end too quickly. “Yes, it is. And now even more so.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a dark topic”—I hesitated—“and we’ve only just met.”

  “Life is dark sometimes. Makes the good times brighter, right?”

  I smiled. “Right.”

  “What could possibly be darker than seeing two people executed right in front of you?” Sam paused. “I know, don’t say it, darker still would be if you were also killed. But then obviously we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “Apparently my unborn baby was killed as a result of that incident.”

  “Bloody hell.” Sam put his chopsticks down. “Catherine, I’m so sorry.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. “Sorry, that sounded a little more dramatic than I intended.” I wiped the tears with my orange polyester napkin. “I’m sorry to unload on you.”

  Sam reached for my hand. “Hey, don’t worry about it. This must be an incredibly volatile time for you. Losing someone takes time—even if you didn’t get the chance to meet.”

  I looked at him carefully. “Spoken like a true professional.”

  “Good catch.” He sighed. “I guess you don’t get far in this line of work without losing someone and feeling culpable or victimized in some way or another.”

  “I just wish it were cleaner, that good people didn’t have to get caught up in the collateral damage.”

  “How far along were you?”

  “I didn’t even know I was pregnant.”

  “Did that make it any easier?”

  “I thought it would, but as it sinks in, it’s getting harder to bear, not easier.”

  “And the father?”

  “He doesn’t know.”

  “Will you tell him?”

  “Eventually, maybe. It will definitely complicate things.”

  “If you have a relationship with the father, my recommendation would be to tell him.”

  “Why?”

  “You shouldn’t have to bear all the grief on your own. The two of you had a hand in this. Holding back will only put distance between you.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  “Sorry if I’m preaching.” Sam started eating again. “I certainly didn’t mean to tell you what to do.”

  “It’s okay, I appreciate being able to talk about it like this.”

  “To be honest, I’m much better at giving advice about kung fu. I have no business giving advice about relationships.”

  “No woman in your life?”

  “There is. That’s why I have no business giving advice.”

  “Not going well?”

  “Oh, no, it’s going extremely well, that’s the bloody problem.” Sam looked off into the distance. “I’m so in love I’m terrified something’s going to happen. And I keep making mistakes,” he whispered. “Big ones.” He looked at me as if he immediately regretted what he had just said.

  “Sounds like we’ve got a lot in common.” I was surprised by his honesty and suddenly felt nervous about Ling-Ru. She’d be furious if she knew I was talking to Sam about his love life. “Maybe too much in common. Perhaps we’d do better talking about kung fu.” I finished my beer. “Can you show me a couple of basic moves?”

  Sam’s eyes lit up. “Now?”

  “Why not?”

  Five Stances of Kung Fu

  I unlocked my hotel room with Sam standing behind me and joked, “I hope you don’t think that I expect to become a kung fu master overnight.”

  “I’m glad to see you’re managing your expectations.”

  “Ling-Ru showed me a little bit. And I did break a board on my first try.”

  “Breaking boards?” He said slyly, “Are you expecting a showdown at the ivory factory?”

  “At this point, I wouldn’t be sur
prised.”

  “Did Ling-Ru show you the five basic stances?”

  “We got distracted by snakes, tigers, and bears.”

  “Okay, okay.” Sam positioned himself in the middle of the room. “I’ve got a couple of things you can practice to get you started.”

  I leaned up against the love seat adjacent to my bed. “Looking forward to it.”

  “There are five main stances in any Chinese martial art.” He crossed his hands stiffly in front of his face, then spread his legs wide and lowered his thighs so they were perfectly parallel with the floor. He shot one fist straight out above his thigh and the other he held at his waist with his elbow bent. “This is the Horse.” He held this pose for about ten seconds before waving me down to his level. “Come, give it a try.”

  Sam got up and positioned my body, gently pushing my hips down lower and drawing my thighs farther out. “This is a tough one. Your thighs should be completely parallel to the ground. You’ll feel the burn right here.” He squeezed the middle of my right thigh. “In fact, I should be able to place a beer right here.” He opened the refrigerator in my minibar and pulled out a Tsingtao. “May I?”

  “Sure.”

  Sam opened the beer, took a sip, and then placed the bottle on my thigh.

  Just the sight of the beer resting on my thigh made me feel unstable, but I was able to tighten up and hold my stance.

  “That’s good.” He took the beer off my thigh, took another sip, and put the beer on the side table. Then he put his hands on either side of my middle and pressed. My reflexes weren’t quick enough to suck in my gut as much as I would have liked. “And your back has to be straight, like you’re leaning against a wall.” He rolled my shoulders outward to open up my rib cage. “Of course, you probably wouldn’t be wearing clothes like these when you’re practicing, but you never know when you have to use your art, so sometimes it’s good to wear street clothes.” He repositioned my arms and adjusted my feet. “Try holding this stance for three minutes, or at least think about how you would build up to three if you can. The longer you can hold each stance, the stronger you’ll become.”

  I tried not to flinch as I kept as steady as possible.

  He lowered his body back down into Horse and then went further, shifting his weight onto his right knee and his left leg fully extended, almost touching the floor, his left arm extended behind him and his right arm bent at the elbow and parallel to the ground. “This is the Bow.”

  I took a sip of the beer and tried to follow along as he assumed the Bow stance not two feet from my face. His fist shifted out in front of him with his forearm parallel with the floor and his back arm straight out behind him.

  “And now the Cross.” He slowly shifted his weight again and waited for me to follow as he crossed his one leg over the other and crossed his arms in his lap. Then he threw a punch straight forward, holding his back fist into his waist with his elbow out like a teapot.

  His body was like an iron rope, his manner cool and expert. I was trying not to feel anything while he manipulated portions of my body, but I had to admit that I couldn’t help feeling a spark of energy. His calm strength was intoxicating.

  He shifted his body into the next stance. “And now the Drop.” He put his hands on his hips, shot one leg out in front of him, foot perpendicular to his body and leg parallel to the ground with the back leg bent at the knee and the thigh parallel to the ground. I fumbled along, following his lead. Once he got into this stance, he threw his torso forward and his hands out in a V shape behind him, hands forming fists.

  “And now the most difficult, the Empty.” He shifted his torso back up and put his weight on his back leg and lifted his front leg just enough that his toe touched the ground but his leg was still held out in front of him. In one fluid motion, his one arm was held out front and the other was out behind him, turned gracefully upward. Then one arm went up behind his head and arched forward as the other sat as a fist on his waist, elbow out.

  “If you can master these stances, with ten minutes of practice a day, you’ll be in good shape. There’s the Horse, Bow, Cross, Drop, and Empty stances.”

  “I think it will take a little practice just to get into each of these stances, much less hold them.”

  He got up and drank some of the beer. “You’ll get it. You’re very flexible and have good balance. You’ll master it in no time.” He handed me the beer. “Here, can’t let a good beer go to waste. You finish it.”

  I took a sip of beer. “I appreciate your confidence.”

  This man was like a bolt of electricity contained within a tidy locket one could wear around her neck. I wanted to reach out and hold the locket and feel its subtle but kinetic energy. I could see why Ling-Ru would want to warn me away from this perfect specimen of a man—even though she had no claim on him. She had invoked the sacred code between two best friends, but why would she do such a thing over a guy she met three years ago and barely knows?

  I had no business pondering all this as if I were interested in Sam, given my feelings for Jon and the professionalism required by my current situation. I wasn’t going to let myself get distracted.

  “Seriously, you’re a natural,” Sam said. “I’ve had a lot of students in my day. I’ve seen all kinds.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  Sam patted me on the back as we walked to the door. “Eight a.m. breakfast?”

  I nodded, handing him back the beer. “Last sip.”

  When I went to open the door, we both jumped back at the sound of knocking on the other side. “Are you expecting someone?” Sam mouthed the words to me. I shook my head, looking at Sam’s naked torso and realizing that he wasn’t armed.

  Unexpected Guest

  I held my breath and peered through the peephole to see who it was. I gasped at the sight of a man holding a bouquet of flowers and threw open the door to a face that I had been dreaming about for the past two months. It was Jon.

  Every time I’d fantasized about this moment, we would embrace passionately and Jon would sweep me off my feet and drop me onto the hotel room bed. But I was so taken aback by his sudden, unexpected presence that I froze up. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, but I couldn’t move, nor could I make words come out of my mouth.

  He held the flowers out in one hand while holding a cane in the other to support his leg that was badly injured in our plane crash. “Catherine,” he said in a soft tone that should have melted my whole being. “I came as soon as I could.”

  All I could think about as I stared at him was the miscarriage, my sorrow stopping me from melting into his arms as I had so longed to do. All the words that were in my head formed a dam in my throat. I couldn’t get a single one out. I had gone completely blank. I could see that Jon took my freezing up as a sign of pulling back, but I couldn’t speak.

  Sam stepped into the space between Jon and me. “Is everything all right, Catherine?”

  Jon and I continued to stare at each other, Jon clearly mortified about seeming to have just caught me in an intimate moment, and me now trying to think of words to explain that what seemed to be happening was not in fact happening.

  Jon stared at the glistening torso between us. “So, this is why you didn’t acknowledge my letter.”

  “It’s not what you think,” I whispered.

  Jon started to march down the hallway toward the elevator, his gait a little uneven, assisted by his cane.

  “Jon, wait.” I reached out for him, placing a hand on his shoulder, desperate to explain why there was a strange man in my hotel room, but also desperate to make sense of my overwhelming emotions regarding our relationship.

  He took my hand off his shoulder and looked back at Sam and me. “You could have at least had the courtesy to tell me not to bother coming here.”

  “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “So you didn’t even read my last letter.”

  “Letter?” I suddenly remembered that I never got a chance to finish reading
Jon’s letter. It was stolen before I could read the whole thing. “The letter! Of course, Jon, I never got the chance to read the whole letter.”

  “Obviously, there was no bloody point.” Jon looked back at Sam. “I’m sorry I interrupted an intimate moment.”

  “No, you don’t understand. It was stolen.”

  “Convenient.” Jon continued to walk toward the elevator.

  “It’s not what you think.” I followed him and grabbed his shoulder again. “I meant to tell you.” He turned and our eyes locked. “Jon, please, I need to talk to you.”

  I could see that he had already put two and two together, so I spoke quickly in order to convince him of my innocence before he disappeared. “I read the beginning. It was beautiful—I’ve been having the same dream about that bath we had together just before I left the Caprivi.”

  “Catherine,” Sam called down the hallway. “Are you going to be all right?”

  I looked back at Sam, who now had his shirt on, and didn’t answer. Instead I whispered to Jon, “Please stay with me tonight. I can explain everything. We can go to Hong Kong together tomorrow.”

  “Looks like your room is fully occupied.” He continued down the hallway with me running to catch up.

  “Sam was just showing me some kung fu. He is not staying with me.”

  “How bloody charming,” Jon spat over his shoulder as I kept following.

  “Jon, please,” I urged. “Jon, please don’t go.”

  “I was told you had been shot, but it’s clear you don’t need any sympathy from me.”

  “I thought maybe—” Somehow I had thought that Jon came because of the miscarriage, but of course, he wouldn’t have known about that. “Is that why you came?”

  “Why else?”

  “Jon, there’s something I’ve got to tell you.”

  Jon turned around and looked at me, more hurt than I had ever seen him. He pressed the elevator button and didn’t say a word.

  “A lot has happened in the past month.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Jon, please. Even Sam thinks I should tell you about the miscarriage.” As soon as the words came out, I regretted having uttered them.

 

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