In the Shade of the Blossom Tree

by Joanna Rees

  ‘Oh, you get used to it,’ she said with a smile. But the happy nostalgia was tinged with uneasiness, as Cara slipped out from beneath her grip and turned away.

  Lois massaged her brow, remembering her resolve to be calm and gentle. She hoped that today wasn’t going to be like yesterday, when she’d clashed with Cara on nearly everything.

  She couldn’t help feeling annoyed that Cara seemed to be completely ignoring – shunning even – all the effort that Lois had made.

  This house, for example, that Lois had hired deliberately so that it would be more cosy and intimate – and might give Cara a taste of what it would feel like for them to live together – had been met with disappointment. Cara had wanted to stay in the Holiday Inn, she’d informed Lois. Because her schoolfriend had told her that there was a buffet breakfast, as well as a pool.

  And that had been just the start. In fact, Lois hadn’t seen her daughter smile once.

  Lois had imagined that it would all be so different. But she didn’t know how to explain to Cara that she spent most of her life at the Enzo Vegas, and being away from the workings of a hotel complex felt like bliss to her. As did being away from work itself. As did having the chance to spend time together.

  Since she’d returned from Jai Shijai’s island nearly a month ago, Roberto had been away and Lois had been working flat out. Cara had no idea how much Lois had had to do in order to take these few days off with her daughter without having to check her messages all the time.

  And the fact that Lois’s mother had refused to take the day off from the Cultural Center where she worked had made Lois feel even more hopeless and unappreciated. But her mother was unrepentant, seemingly utterly uninterested in the fact that her only daughter and granddaughter were in town for the weekend. She had to prioritize the latest batch of Tibetan refugees, she’d said, making Lois immediately feel small and unworthy.

  Stop it, Lois told herself. Getting angry or bitter about her mom wasn’t going to help. She wasn’t the child here. Cara was. Cara, who needed Lois’s love and attention. And Lois was ready to give it. In spades. If only Cara would let her.

  And anyway, it wasn’t all bad. Her mother had agreed to meet Lois and Cara for lunch at Ed’s restaurant today. Lois hoped it would be a turning point. That her mother would see what a committed and caring daughter she was. And that she’d be supportive as far as Cara was concerned. Because with her mother on side, surely Cara would remember that she did have a proper family – people who would nurture and support her away from Chris and Mary-Sue. Yes, being with her grandma might make Cara see things differently and open her mind to a future with Lois.

  Take it one step at a time, Lois told herself, turning to Cara. She had a hell of a lot of bad press to undo, thanks to her darling ex-husband. And the only way she could get through to Cara was by proving what a fun and sensitive mom she could be. How hard can it be? she thought. You’re a Vegas casino manager. Surely you can keep a little girl entertained for a few hours all by yourself. Yes, she decided, if Cara was spoiling for a row, she wasn’t going to get one. Nothing was going to ruin this precious time together.

  ‘Why don’t we go shopping?’ Lois suggested, trying to turn on her brightest smile.

  Cara shrugged. ‘If you want. I don’t need anything.’

  The fog was clearing by the time Lois and Cara caught the tram to Union Square. Lois tried making conversation with her daughter about her friends at school, but Cara’s answers were monosyllabic.

  Trying to stay positive, Lois changed tack and started talking about all the sights to see in San Francisco, but again Cara seemed uninterested. Lapsing into sullen silence, Cara turned away and rested her forehead against the glass of the tram window.

  Lois gazed at her daughter’s reflection. She had so many treasured photos of Cara when she was a baby and she could see that toddler’s face still in this older version. She longed to hold Cara’s face and kiss the soft apple curve of her cheeks and her upturned nose. But she knew that even looking at Cara made her daughter uncomfortable.

  And now guilt slammed into Lois worse than ever before. She was sitting next to the person she loved most in the world and she felt further away than ever. A gulf had grown between them and she had no idea how to bridge it.

  At Union Square, Lois stepped out with Cara into the bright sunshine. This was where she’d dreamed of being able to shop as a kid. And now she was here with Cara, with a purse full of credit cards and a morning of free time.

  But the happy mother-daughter experience she’d hoped for was not to be. Lois soon discovered she had no idea how to lift her daughter’s sullen spirits. It was like dragging around a reluctant dog. Cara didn’t seem to be interested in anything, proclaiming everything in the Tiffany store to be ugly, the Disney Store too childish. Lois was amazed and confused too. What was her daughter interested in? There had to be something.

  They headed on to the shopping mall and took the escalator to the first floor. On the other escalator, coming down beside them, was a man reading a newspaper. On the front was a colour photo of Joshua Fernandez.

  He’d kept in touch. Regular emails politely enquiring after her health. Invitations to come visit next time she was in Washington. But Lois had decided to let it lie. She wanted to move away from all that had happened. Not relive it. And as nice a guy as Fernandez was, he remained part of the whole mess that had swallowed her up.

  He’d come out of it all smelling of roses. His good looks, charisma, youth and already impressive political résumé, coupled with his survival of the assassination attempt, had given him a JFK-like aura and his nickname of JF Bay.

  Josh Fernandez was heading one way. Straight to the top. And in spite of what her Vegas colleagues might think of him, Lois still saw him as one of the good guys. Someone who was trying to make the world a fairer, better place.

  And despite all the strife she’d been through because of it, the fact that she’d come between him and a bullet with his name on still made her proud.

  But she felt immediately guilty. As if she were face to face with someone with whom she’d had an affair. Because Cara was glowering at the picture.

  ‘Dad hates him,’ she said. ‘He says he’s a phoney.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, your father’s not always right about everything,’ Lois snapped back.

  Cara was silent, her eyes wide and hurt. Lois saw her comment go inside, stored, she had no doubt, in some horrible squashy, vulnerable place that a therapist would one day spend weeks digging into. She wished she could retract her words. It was wrong to make Cara feel that she was caught in the middle between her and Chris, but that was exactly what Lois was doing.

  ‘Well, I hate Fernandez too,’ Cara said defiantly.

  ‘You can’t hate someone if you haven’t met them.’

  But something in the way Cara was staring at her made her see immediately that what she’d said wasn’t true. And maybe she was right, Lois thought. After all, Lois hated Michael Hudson and she’d never met him.

  And Fernandez – albeit inadvertently – had impacted on her daughter’s life.

  She tried to put herself in Cara’s shoes, to imagine how confusing it must be that Lois had nearly died because of this stranger. And that Cara herself had then been harassed by tabloid journalists outside her school. Who’d interrogated her about her dead uncle Miki who she’d never met. Who’d stuck her photo next to Lois’s all over the morning news, with a headline screaming out about Lois being a selfish, career-obsessed absent mother who lived on the other side of the country from her own daughter. With not one mention of why. Or how Lois saw Cara every second that she was allowed to.

  Telling Cara that she’d only been doing her job wouldn’t cut it. Because the papers had been partially right. While she’d succeeded in protecting the senator, she’d again failed to protect her daughter.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, reaching out to put her arm around Cara’s shoulder. But Cara shrank back from her touch.

&n
bsp; ‘Don’t,’ she hissed. ‘You’re embarrassing me.’

  ‘Then let’s hit the shops,’ Lois said, trying to put a brave face on it.

  Even then, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Cara thought she was trying to buy her affection. So much so that Lois began to doubt her own motives as well. Was this really what their relationship had been reduced to? Dollars and cents and arguments? Instead of laughter and memories and love?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Lois was still trying to break the ice hours later. The morning seemed to have stretched interminably and she was exhausted by the time they headed up into Chinatown for the rendezvous with her mother at Ed’s restaurant.

  All that time in the gym and these damn hills are still a killer on your thighs, Lois thought. Even so, it was lovely to be back here, with the crowds and the hustle and bustle. Red lanterns hung across the streets and the shops were a riot of colour in the sunshine. And as Lois looked over at Cara, she saw that finally her interest was piqued.

  Maybe I should stop trying so hard, Lois thought, smiling at her. Maybe I should just let her be.

  But her optimism didn’t last long. By the time they reached Ed’s, they were both out of breath and sweating. The street was smarter than Lois remembered. Nail bars and internet cafés had sprung up since she’d last been here. Ed’s façade looked scruffy by comparison. Cara looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but here, as she stared in at the window.

  ‘Ugh, that’s so gross!’ Cara said, screwing up her nose and making a retching sound. Lois saw that she was looking at the chickens’ feet and caramelized pigs’ heads on display.

  ‘Some might consider those a delicacy,’ Lois said. Now wasn’t the time to get into a debate with her daughter about her cultural heritage.

  ‘A delicacy? It’s like something out of a horror film.’

  ‘Fine,’ Lois said. ‘But do me a favour, huh? Once we’re inside, try and keep your opinions to yourself. The people who work here are proud of what they do.’

  This is such a mistake, she thought. Chances were, Ed was going to bring out every one of his specialities, and most of them would make the chickens’ feet look positively bland.

  But she had no time to dwell on it because Ed came out of his restaurant and laughed delightedly, before wrapping his arms around Lois as if she was a long-lost daughter. Then he kissed Cara on the top of her head and Lois saw her wince. Luckily Ed didn’t seem to notice. Lois would hate to see him hurt.

  Ed Wan wasn’t a real uncle, but a family friend whose parents came from the same part of Hong Kong as Lois’s grandparents. Ed’s mother – an old-fashioned matriarch of the Chinese-American community – had been a kind of surrogate aunt to Lois.

  Lois had known Ed all her life and it was great to see him again. But now a look of confusion and awe crossed his face as he pulled back and, holding her shoulders, looked her up and down. She’d dressed down in jeans, suede boots and a soft leather jacket, but here on the street, beside Ed, she felt as if her clothes were ostentatious.

  ‘You’re rich now, your mom tells me,’ he said, ushering her inside his restaurant, the bell on the door jangling in such a way that the sound gave Lois a physical pang of nostalgia. ‘The hotshot in Vegas. And you saved our senator. Like a good San Franciscan girl, eh?’

  She hated this kind of adulation.

  ‘Here, you can sign my photo,’ Ed said, proudly pulling a picture of Fernandez from the shelf by the door and offering a marker pen.

  This wasn’t the first time she’d been asked to sign a picture of the senator, but she didn’t like doing it. Ed smiled at her expectantly. She clearly wasn’t going to get away with turning him down.

  She took the photo and squiggled on it, catching Cara’s scowl of disapproval.

  Ed looked at the picture happily. ‘There,’ he said, with a satisfied grin. ‘Now everyone will believe me when I tell them that I know the Lois Chan.’

  Lois glanced at the glass case by the door and the dusty model of the palace that she’d thought of when she arrived at Jai Shijai’s private island. But now, seeing it again, it was nothing like as grand as Jai Shijai’s home. And the startling contrast between Ed’s world and the great tycoon’s hit her full force. Her past and her possible future couldn’t have been further apart.

  The blue Formica tables were more shabby than she remembered and Ed and his wife looked so much older. Lois wondered how on earth she was going to manage to give them money for the meal. Ed would be adamant it was on the house, but Lois saw all too well the faded glory of the restaurant. This had once been the smartest place in Chinatown, but clearly Ed had been left behind.

  ‘Grab a seat,’ Ed said. ‘Anywhere’s fine.’

  He wasn’t kidding. They were the only people here.

  ‘And what about you, Cara? You want a soda?’ Ed asked with a grin.

  ‘I suppose.’ She couldn’t have sounded more disinterested.

  Lois smiled and ushered Cara to one of the booths on the back wall.

  ‘I don’t like anything on the menu,’ Cara said, as she slumped into her seat after Ed had gone, humming merrily, to the kitchen doors.

  ‘We’re going to eat what we’re given. Please don’t turn your nose up. These people want to entertain us. It’s the custom,’ Lois whispered under her breath.

  Cara fiddled with the fortune cookie wrapped in foil on her plate. She cracked it open.

  ‘What?’ she asked Lois, accusingly.

  ‘They’re supposed to be for after the meal,’ Lois hissed.

  Cara scowled at her. ‘I’m going to the bathroom,’ she said.

  Whilst she was gone, Lois stared at the fortune cookie on her own plate. She shouldn’t have snapped at Cara. But the stress of this morning had got to her.

  She knew she was doing this all wrong. So what if Cara wanted to open her fortune cookie? Why was Lois being so uptight? She was acting like her own mother, for God’s sake. She’d never win her daughter over if she kept on being the fun police like this.

  Lois quickly unwrapped her fortune cookie, cracked open the brittle shell and pulled out the flimsy strip of paper. The man in your thoughts will help you find your destiny, she read. Who the hell could that be? she wondered. Roberto? Jai Shijai? Aidan? There’d been quite a roll call lately.

  A smile played across her lips. She hadn’t really thought of Aidan since she’d left Jai Shijai’s island. She wondered how he was and if he was still sailing. Or whether Zak had gone back to his mother and school, whilst Aidan had disappeared off to some godforsaken war zone.

  It was nice to have come away with such great memories of her time in paradise. And that moment with Aidan at the top of the pagoda. That had been sweet. He’d looked so embarrassed after he’d kissed her. And shocked. As if he couldn’t quite believe he’d done it at all. What would have happened if she hadn’t had to go back to the game? She supposed she’d never know.

  But wherever he was, she hoped he was safe. And that one day he might remember her offer and call her.

  She sighed. Being back here in her home town made all of that seem like a dream. No, more than that, a fantasy. An exotic island . . . a handsome stranger. She couldn’t have made it up if she’d tried.

  And that was the best part about it. She hadn’t tried. Hadn’t needed to. It had just happened. As if it had been . . .

  Ha . . .

  She shook her head, staring down at the message in her hands.

  As if it had been destined.

  Don’t be so crazy, she told herself. Just because you’re back in one of your childhood haunts doesn’t mean you have to start believing again in magic and fate and happy-ever-afters and all of that superstitious baloney your grandmother filled your head with as a kid.

  ‘You look like a ghost has got you,’ a familiar voice said.

  Lois looked up, startled.

  Her mother was standing by the table.

  Lois, like her mother and grandmother, had been brought up believing
in ghosts. Not the kind from the movies, but real people from the past. People with unfinished business. Loved ones who couldn’t settle in the afterlife. Ghosts with sad stories who created a guilty conscience in those who believed in them.

  Beverley Chan was a petite woman who’d once been beautiful and immaculately groomed. But since her husband and son had gone from this world – and had haunted her almost continually from the next – she had almost entirely given up on looking feminine. Her work at the Chinese Cultural Center now took up most of her time and she seemed to have taken on the burdens of all the needy immigrants she saw on a daily basis.

  Lois was shocked to see how much she’d aged. She wore no make-up and her hair was greying beneath the black headscarf she now took off. The rest of her was grey too. Her cardigan, blouse and dark grey slacks. Even her sensible lace-up shoes were grey.

  Lois smiled at her and rose to kiss her, but her mother’s face seemed almost incapable of happiness. Lois couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen or heard her mother laugh. It hadn’t been for years.

  Cara came back from the restroom and Lois held out her arm to her, smiling. She beckoned her forward and reluctantly Cara pecked her grandmother on the cheek, before sitting back down again and standing the menu open in front of her, like a shield.

  ‘She doesn’t look like she belongs to you,’ Lois’s mother commented in Cantonese, as they slid in opposite her in the booth.

  ‘Mom, can we please speak English in front of Cara?’ Lois answered in English, determined that her daughter would not feel any more excluded from this environment than she did already. ‘Otherwise it’s not fair.’

  ‘It would be fair if you’d bothered to teach her your mother tongue.’

  Minefield number one, Lois thought, kicking herself for walking straight into it.

  ‘Don’t mind me,’ Cara said, as if she couldn’t care less. ‘You want to talk about me behind my back, you go ahead.’