Fractured MC (The Nighthawks MC Book 9)

by Bella Knight

  She stepped up to the door. Her mother opened it, her mouth a hard line. "Come in, then," she said, with nothing of her former graciousness. She wore a red print top and black pants, dressed conservatively as ever, even in the rising heat outside.

  "Thank you for welcoming me to your home," said Bao, in perfect Mandarin, her voice gentle and positive.

  Dragon Mother stepped back. "Enter," she said.

  Bao slipped off her black motorcycle boots, the ones that didn't zip up. She slid on the slippers, and went toward the kitchen. "Shall I make us some tea?" she asked.

  "Sit," said her mother, imperiously. "I will make the tea."

  "Perhaps this blend would suffice," she said, and handed over the round, green container, tied with a yellow ribbon.

  Her mother raised her eyebrows, and took it. She went in, and heated the water. Bao looked around. The place was as Chinese as could be, from the position of the sofa, to the prints on the walls. She nodded to herself, and sat. Her mother was making the tea, true. And it would take time to steep, true. But she spent an inordinate amount of time in the kitchen.

  Her mother brought out the second-best tea set. Bao raised her eyebrows alone. The set was for the tea, not for her. It deserved more than the common household pot. She stood to help, but her mother waved her away by pointing her chin.

  "Sit," she said imperiously.

  "Am I a dog?" asked Bao.

  "You are one of those spiked creatures. A pig with quills."

  "Porcupine," said Bao. "I could say the same of you. I came with tea, not to stab you."

  "Yet you find fault even before I have sat my elderly self in a chair."

  "It is your tone," said Bao. "Shall we speak to one another with respect? Mothers and daughters should respect each other."

  "Stupid American idea," said her mother. "You should treat me with respect."

  "And when you make every effort to make my wedding, one of the happiest days of my life, a place of selfish anger?"

  Her mother stared at the teapot. "You married a white man," she said.

  "I married the man I love," she said. "Hu is Chinese, with a Chinese father. I have produced a Chinese child. What more do you want?"

  "You haven't produced a Chinese son."

  Bao narrowed her eyes at her mother. "To do what? Take care of his grandmother in his old age?"

  "To carry on the family name!"

  "Are there not thousands of people with our name? Millions? And what does it matter? We no longer live in China."

  "Bah!" said her mother. "Did you take leave of your senses? You're still Chinese!"

  "You own this triplex," she said, softly, so her mother had to strain to hear. "You have been assured of an old age that will be prosperous. Are girls –women, really that unimportant to you? It is my money that bought this, to pay you back for raising me and helping with Hu, and so many other things. I took the initiative. I learned the best Mandarin, got the certificate. I run the business to sell Chinese books to China and Taiwan. The one thing the Chinese never tire of doing is reading."

  "Bah. You own it with others."

  "No, we split the business. I still help with the nonprofit side, fund it really, but I own the profitable side. I have employees. I conduct business." She stopped talking. "Will you ever find value in me, or in what I do? Am I speaking to a wall?" she said.

  "I am not a wall," huffed her mother. "I am but a peasant."

  Bao huffed. "After Honored Father died, you came to America with your brother, and my daughter. And you had enough money to buy a restaurant. And, the restaurant does well. You are no peasant." She poured the tea. She wanted to try one last time to get through to her mother. She let it sit a moment. "When are you taking your granddaughter somewhere? And not to the restaurant. She likes to do little, special things with you. There is a park with ducks that she would like to see with you, for a pleasant walk. A lovely time with an intelligent, beautiful girl."

  "You have forbidden me," said her mother, "To speak of you to her."

  "To speak ill of me divides my daughter's heart, and so damages her. I do not speak ill of you to her." Bao took a tiny sip. It was truly excellent oolong tea.

  "You dare tell me how I should act? You made me lose face in front of people I must do business with!"

  Bao sighed. "You decided, without speaking to me, how my wedding should be. I made restitution, and these people have as much or more business from me --or that I have recommended. I was a bride, it was my day."

  "What does it matter? You were marrying a white man! You could have had the worst of it all! I went to good merchants!"

  Bao saw snapping eyes, nearly closed with rage. When had her mother become a porcupine, pleased with nothing? "I did not say they were bad merchants. I just told you I made up their losses. I would not have done so if I did not believe they were good merchants. But, you made choices for me, without consulting me. You should have seen this as a time of joy, for our heads to be bent together making these choices, a chance for growing closer. Instead, you saw this as an opportunity for more control." She put her tongue to the back of her teeth, stopping short of accusing her mother of deliberate sabotage.

  "You are an ungrateful daughter," snapped her mother, grabbing her teacup with ill grace.

  "I brought you fine tea," said Bao. "I gave you the deed to this house. It is yours to do with as you wish. You have the restaurant. You are well cared for. I am raising a lovely daughter who speaks, reads, and writes Chinese --so she may speak to you in all things. How am I ungrateful?" Bao sipped more tea. Its smell was heavenly.

  "You ride a motorcycle! You braid your hair, only on one side! You raise your daughter among white devils! You dare to tell me I should not be consulted on your wedding!"

  "Consulting is different than making all the decisions for yourself," said Bao. "And, you had no problem letting Ivy and Callie help raise Hu before. They brought in a woman to teach Chinese to her, and to her sister, and the entire school. They did not deny Hu her language or culture, and Grace and Hu spent many hours with you. What has changed, and why now? Especially since I am home, and teaching her many things. She helped me choose this tea." She smelled it, and sipped some more.

  Her mother rose. "It is obvious to me that I have an ungrateful child. Until you stop this... nonsense, you cannot come here."

  Bao finished her tea. She sat down the cup. "You should see a doctor. I worry that you have some imbalance. You went from being happy when we moved in here, to wanting to control our every movement --in just a few weeks. What made you decide to act in such a way? We were happy before. Why are you not happy now?"

  "So I am sick? I have some disease? You useless idiot! How dare you speak that way, to me!"

  Bao stood carefully, so as not to knock the table and risk damaging the lovely tea set. "I love you," she said. "But you have indicated with what you say and do that you no longer respect or love me. I will not tolerate that from anyone, even my mother. You do not act in honorable ways. If you do not speak of me negatively, you may see Hu. I can bring her to you, and you can have lovely walks in the park, or she loves your cooking, so you could do that. There is so much potential in her. I hate to see her damaged by your lack of love to me."

  "How dare you speak to me about not loving you! You are a fool! You have changed, and become American!"

  "If you love me, then you love me even if I change. The Americans call it unconditional love. There are no conditions on my love for you, but you damage me with your behavior, and your lack of unconditional love. Such things are damaging to me, and to my daughter. She needs that unconditional love to thrive, and deserves love."

  "You live on a farm! With horses! We spent our entire lives moving away from farms, living on scraps of rice in the city. How dare you go back to the mud and filth we spent our life's blood to leave?"

  Bao smiled sadly. "I live on a farm, with horses my daughter loves. We live in a farmhouse big enough for all of us, with children and oth
er parents, and my love, Nico --and our children. Our life is very rich. And, two of my best friends grow food for us. They are not peasants, but engineers. Be careful which words you use."

  Her mother stiffened her spine. "You are having a baby who is not Chinese?"

  Bao nodded. "And that very sentence is why you shall have no part in our baby's life. Your prejudices are truly disturbing. Please see a Chinese doctor to renew your spirit. You are not the mother I knew when I came here. I hope you change into someone who would welcome a new child into the family. I cannot support the mother I see before me. Goodbye." She turned, walked to the door, kicked off her slippers, and pulled on her boots. "I am not the one that caused you to lose face, Mother. You did that to yourself."

  She opened the door, and stepped out. The curtains twitched. Bao had never raised her voice, but her mother certainly had. She bowed, and her mother slammed the door in her face, not bothering to bow back. And these people will tell others, and all of Chinatown will know that my mother has treated me this way. She will lose face again, and she may not recover this time.

  She rode to Chinatown. She needed to give another gift. Mrs. Chang met her at the door. "Mrs. Chang," she said, noticing the bustle.

  There were two separate saleswomen offering tea to customers. They showed beautiful garments and sketches on laptops to the customers. An assistant was nearby each saleswoman, ready to get anything that was required.

  "Bao! Entering my shop so soon after your honeymoon! Was it glorious?"

  "The most glorious," she said. "I have some tea I would like brewed for us, and perhaps these pleasant women would also like a cup. It is a modest oolong." She withdrew the can from her other pocket. Mrs. Chang barely glanced at it, and handed it to a girl next to her.

  "Mei, make three pots of this," she said, and handed it over. The other two ladies inclined their heads. Bao inclined back. "Please, sit."

  "Oh, do not make a fuss over me," said Bao. "Please, give me a tablet. I want to see what has all of Chinatown so happy."

  Mrs. Chang actually blushed, and handed over a tablet. "You are too kind. I think the blue and white heron one would look lovely. For a dinner, perhaps." Mrs. Chang leaned over her, to slide that slide for Bao to peruse. Bao sat, and waited on the tea.

  Bao was stunned. One of the girls... the ones on scholarship. That was fast, she thought. She had put the money for Mrs. Chang to use immediately upon their conversation, and knew that it had been taken out, but this was... wonderful. The tunic glimmered and glistened.

  "Is this in my size?" she asked. "I am very sorry, wrong question. Do you have it today to alter, or shall I come back next week?"

  "Today," said Mrs. Chang, standing up. "Li, please get this one." She held up the tablet, and the girl moved like the wind. Soon, Mrs. Chang had hung up her jacket, and she was being fitted. "A black jacket would go well with this," said Mrs. Chang. She gestured, and Mei finished putting down the last tea tray, and came back with the tablet. "This one, or this," said Mrs. Chang, tapping, then swiping, between two options. The first was black, fitted with a Chinese collar. The second was a softer jacket, more tapered, that went farther down the back.

  "The second," said Bao. "And the first in silver with little beads."

  Mrs. Chang nodded, and before she could blink, the jacket was over the tunic. Bao held her hands out, just so the jacket didn't catch on the pins. She carefully lowered her arms until her elbows were a bit out from her sides, then held her arms out again. It was whisked off of her, then the tunic fitting was finished. She was back in her silk tee when the raised-collar silk tee went on, and it was assessed for fit. It came off, and Mrs. Chang showed her blue silk pants to match the tunic, and a lovely black and silver top to match the silver jacket. She put her tee back on, handed her credit card to Mei, and sat down to tea, little almond cookies, and tiny, green, tea cakes.

  Mei whispered as she served the tea, "Honorable Mrs. Hua Bao, we wish to thank you for our scholarships. But, Li will never speak of it, but she wants to change to fashion design and art school. Mrs. Chang does not want to tell you, as it would cost far more."

  "And what do you want?" asked Bao, pretending they were exchanging only pleasantries. One of the other ladies was being given the same treatment as Bao had just had, so Mrs. Chang was quite busy.

  "I will go to dental school. I am enrolled."

  "I didn't ask where you are enrolled. I asked for what you want."

  Mei bowed her head, her hair obscuring her face. "The same. But Li is so talented, she must get it first."

  "These are her drawings?" she said. Mei nodded. "And you sew and create?"

  "I sew," she said. "Li is the genius."

  "So, someday you will have a shop together, or Mrs. Chang will expand. So, yes. Enroll in the correct school and classes with my blessing. I will write to your parents and explain that their daughters are truly gifted and will need extra schooling, and that the scholarship committee agrees."

  Mei quailed. "What committee? Must I speak to anyone else?"

  "I am the committee," said Bao. "But let's not tell everyone."

  "Of course not," said Mei, struggling not to let the tears fall.

  "Your parents will be so happy," said Bao, "That you can work to support them in their old age."

  Mei nodded, and wiped away a tear. “Thank you.”

  The other lady stealthily moved to the chair next to Bao. "Take the scholarship, girl. Nod your head, say 'I'll be right back', and go wash your face."

  "I'll be right back," said Mei, and she vanished as if she was never there.

  "I'm Guo Huan Min," said the woman.

  "Picado Bao," said Bao. They bowed to one another.

  "I have heard of the woman who married a foreigner, making her mother so angry. I am sorry for the family strife. Your daughter plays the violin with my Katie. I, too, married a foreigner after my Chinese husband left us. He insisted I keep my Chinese name."

  "Mrs. Zhao is an excellent teacher," said Bao. "She remembers to make it pleasant and fun."

  Mrs. Guo smiled. "I am so happy with her as well. My daughter enjoys the play, and says your daughter doesn't treat her differently because she is only half Chinese."

  "If she did, I would speak to her, but she is being raised with two American girls." Bao sipped the excellent tea.

  The other woman drank from her own cup. "And how does that work? It sounds like a complicated story."

  "When my honored father passed on, my mother took our daughter and my brother and moved to America. He had some funds, so she bought a restaurant here and did very well. We were to follow, my husband and I, but he was killed by a man moving rocks that had been drinking beer most of the previous night. My mother took in a tenant, who then married a woman. This tenant treated my daughter and the woman's daughter the same. Her name is Ivy, and she married a woman named Callie, and their daughter is..."

  "Grace," said Mrs. Guo. "I know that bit of the story, and I have seen Callie pick up Hu with Grace. Inseparable, aren't they?"

  "Yes, so we bought a duplex together. I bought them out and gave the entire triplex to my mother, and moved with them when they moved into a bigger house. Ivy has a daughter with autism. Damia is brilliant with horses."

  "Yes, I know that part, too. And now you have married, and moved an entire farmhouse to be close to Ivy and Callie --and their children."

  Bao nodded, and sipped more tea. "The girls are so happy together. To separate them would be cruel and stupid on a very fundamental level. Both are working at far above grade level. I am a Chinese instructor at the homeschool for the motorcycle club. It’s called the Nighthawks."

  "I have heard of them. At first, it made the people nervous that it was a tong, but they are not criminal gang people. I have heard of their programs to help soldiers by teaching them to rebuild motorcycles."

  "You are well informed," said Bao. "I am sorry I did not recognize you. You and your daughter are often not there when I arrive to pick up H
u."

  "She has another class after that; mathematics is the one. She is brilliant. But I worry I am putting too much pressure on her."

  Bao nodded. "If you ask the question, you are. Ask her to choose. Tell her she must learn what interests her, and take off the controls for her to learn it. Diving deep brings in so much other knowledge. For instance, if she wants to perform the violin, she must use mathematics to determine the speed of the music." She took a sip of tea, then poured more. "Pushed children become accomplished, but they don't have time to be healthy, normal children. And, they begin to think they are loved only for their accomplishments."

  Mrs. Guo nodded. "I am so glad we have the chance to talk. We must bring the daughters together. There is a park nearby with ducks. Perhaps we could all take a nice walk?"

  Bao held back her tears. Someone who understood, and that, in itself, was such a great gift. "Of course," she said.

  The women chatted, and exchanged numbers. Bao even stayed for Mrs. Guo's fitting. She looked lovely in gold and black. They took their purchases, and went to lunch, swimming on a sea of tea and chat.

  Later that night, Mrs. Chang went to see her old friend at the triplex. She was shocked. Her friend seemed to have aged before her eyes. "Let me get some tea," said Mrs. Hua.

  "Oh, no," she said. "I have drunk a river of tea with my customers. I would just like to sit a bit and rest my hands."

  "Business is good?" asked Mrs. Hua.

  "The tablet computers and Li's drawings are bringing in many, including your daughter." Mrs. Hua looked away. "She is so beautiful, and prosperous."

  Mrs. Hua snorted. "Prosperous? She sells books. She's not even a real teacher."