by Z. Allora
A man appeared in the doorway.
Tian Di introduced Jordon. “Jordon Davis, this is my father, Mr. Zhao.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Zhao.” Jordon might have shaken hands a little too hard, because Mr. Zhao grimaced.
Mrs. Zhao guided them into a formal living area done in rose and creams. The room was filled with antiques and fought against the structure’s angles. “Please, have a seat.”
Tian Di’s father said, “I have a conference call. If you’ll excuse me,” and he disappeared.
Zhang Min rolled her eyes.
“What do you do, Jordon?” Tian Di’s mother asked.
Clearing his throat, Jordon said, “I’m an artist.”
She cocked her head to the side and repeated, “An artist?”
“Yes.”
Her “hmmm” said volumes on how unworthy she thought him.
“He’s one of my favorite artists of all time,” Tian Di groused.
Hearing Tian Di stand up to his mother and try to protect him made Jordon feel loved.
“Oh, so he draws those silly magazines.”
Zhang Min growled. “Mangas are not silly.”
Mrs. Zhao ignored her daughter and narrowed her focus on Jordon. “Do you have a girlfriend, Jordon?”
Jordon glanced over at Tian Di, not having a clue how to answer. Tian Di’s mother had been told they were seeing each other. He expected she’d avoid the subject, but her pathological denial threw him. Did she think he would deny being with her son?
Tian Di cleared his throat. “Jordon’s my boyfriend, Mother. You know that, because I told you.”
Mrs. Zhao grimaced and fluttered her hands about. “Please stopping saying that.”
“Why? It is the truth.” Tian Di glared at her with angry defiance.
She fussed with her napkin. “Some truths are best left undiscovered.”
Tian Di winced. Her arrow obviously pierced her son’s heart.
That didn’t stop her. “If I had known you wanted a Westerner, there’s many expat girls. I know some from America, Germany—you name the country.”
Covering his face with one hand, Tian Di appeared wiped out by the exchange.
Enough! Jordon couldn’t take more of this. “I’m afraid that won’t work, Mrs. Zhao.”
“Whyever not?” The innocence in her tone made Jordon’s blood boil.
“I love your son, and I want to spend my life making him happy.” Jordon wanted to make that clear.
Mrs. Zhao stared for a moment and then proclaimed, “Well, I need to go check on the meal. Please excuse me.”
Did he just screw everything sideways? He was afraid to look at Tian Di.
Zhang Min threw her arms around him. “Thank you.”
Jordon hugged her back and found the courage to peek over at Tian Di.
Tian Di sat back with his hands behind his neck, grinning at Jordon.
Eventually Zhang Min released him from her sisterly strangle hug.
Jordon stared at Tian Di and couldn’t help but share in the mysterious smile. “What’s with the smile?”
“You stood up to her, confessed your love for me, and made her speechless in the process. You did all that in less than five minutes. You’re amazing, and you’re mine.” Tian Di crossed over to him in two strides and gave him a toe-curling kiss.
JORDON FOUND himself seated at a round table across from Tian Di in an elegant red-and-gold dining room. He was sandwiched between Zhang Min and Mr. Zhao.
“Tian Di, your sister said your band did well.” Mr. Zhao stated it like Tian Di would deny all knowledge of performing.
“It was a good show.” Tian Di glanced at Jordon. “Jordon’s brother is the drummer for the band we opened for.”
“Convenient.”
Jordon put on a happy face to overcompensate for the grimness of this family dinner. “It is. I found Made in China’s music way before this tour. Your son’s vocals drew me in and held me hostage.”
“I’ve never heard him.” Mr. Zhao glanced toward the door. “Ah, here’s the shark fin soup.”
An unsmiling woman with a tight bun and a pristine uniform carried a covered tureen. She ladled out bowls for everyone.
Jordon forced himself not to think of all the finless sharks floating belly up for this soup. They were honoring him… or maybe just trying to scare him off with a show of wealth. If that was the case, they should bring it on, because money was simply paper with art on it. Wealth didn’t impress or alarm him.
Mrs. Zhao pointed at the bowl in front of him. “Si hah.”
Zhang Min leaned in to him. “She means try it.”
He tasted the gelatinous liquid. The soup had a delicate flavor that was almost lost to the texture. Somehow it managed to be chewy and a little crunchy at the same time.
Jordon complimented Mrs. Zhao. “It’s delicious.”
Dinner was a banquet, and the food kept arriving. The next course was abalone stew in oyster sauce with Zack’s worst nightmare—straw mushrooms.
As the courses kept coming, Jordon tried a little bit of everything, not wanting to be seen as bad mannered, though the tension in his stomach made everything difficult to get down, let alone enjoy.
Mrs. Zhao glared at her daughter. “I spoke to Margaret’s mother yesterday. She’s a grandmother again. When are you going to find a man? You’re not getting any younger.”
“Mother, please.” Zhang Min set her chopsticks down on the red ceramic koi chopstick rest.
“What? It’s true.” Mrs. Zhao turned to Jordon. “What would your mother think if you weren’t going to give her grandchildren, Jordon?”
Tian Di’s gasp echoed off the golden walls of the dining room.
Jordon wondered how he didn’t gush blood from that remark. Mrs. Zhao cut him on so many levels, and while doing so, she denied who he was at his very core.
“I don’t think she would care all that much.” If Jordon was brutally honest with himself, even with years of therapy, that still sucked monkey balls.
“I wouldn’t be too sure. Women wait all their lives to be grandmothers. To see the family name carried on.”
“Mrs. Zhao, my mother kicked me out when I was sixteen for being gay. She no longer acknowledges me as her son. So even if I were to adopt or find a surrogate to carry a biological child, as far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t have any right to be a grandmother to any of my children, or my brothers’.”
Mrs. Zhao’s mouth opened and shut. Jordon imagined she looked like the finless sharks in their death throes.
He understood he’d ripped the fabric of her societal expectations, but he was already doing so by loving their son, so he’d go for broke. “Can you imagine a child being kicked out for just being who he is? I don’t know what I would’ve done if it hadn’t been for my brothers.”
Mrs. Zhao stared at Jordon and then spared Tian Di and Zhang Min a glance. Then she stared down at her plate. “That is rather terrible, Jordon. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Jordon reached across Zhang Min and held out his hand to Mrs. Zhao.
She studied it before tentatively taking his offered hand.
He shook her hand and added an awkward bow. “Thank you, Mrs. Zhao. Thank you.”
The new course arrived, allowing the moment to end. A platter of fresh lobster pieces, roast duck, and some other meats Jordon couldn’t identify were delivered to the lazy Susan in the middle of the table.
“Yes. Er, si hah.” Mrs. Zhao pointed to the food.
Tian Di gave Jordon a smile, and that was enough to get him through the next course.
Mrs. Zhao steered the conversation toward safer subjects like politics and world issues that had no clear solution.
The meal ended with a serving of fried rice and longevity noodles.
Mr. Zhao turned to Jordon right when he was slurping one of the extremely long noodles with less-than-expert skill. “I understand you publish with Kin Jirareta Ai Press.”
Slurp, slurp, slu
rp. How long was this thing? As soon as Jordon had the last of the noodle in his mouth, he nodded. After he swallowed, he said, “Yes, sir.”
“I have a meeting with a potential customer.”
Not sure where this was going, Jordon said, “Oh.”
“Yes, his daughter, I understand, is a big fan of yours.” Mr. Zhao made the statement like Jordon knew all about the fan and her father’s potential connection to the Zhao family business.
Tian Di stared from across the table. “How do you know that?”
Mr. Zhao smiled grimly. “You’d be surprised at the things I know.”
Tian Di slapped the table. “You can’t just use Jordon this way.”
Shaking his head, Mr. Zhao said, “It’s nothing more or less than I’d ask of your sister’s husband.”
“If she had one,” Mrs. Zhao added as if she were compelled.
Jordon recognized the impending request for assistance for what it might possibly be—a bit of acceptance. “How can I help, Mr. Zhao?”
“If you’d be willing to meet his daughter for tea at the Peninsula, I’d be grateful,” Mr. Zhao stated with the appropriate level of humility. Was this the olive branch of peace, or would the patriarch of the family beat Tian Di with it somehow?
“I’d be happy to do that for you. May I suggest Tian Di should accompany me.” Before Mr. Zhao could object, Jordon pointed out, “You may not realize it, but your son is a rock star, especially after the concert here last night.”
During the dessert of fresh seasonal berries and sweet, hot red-bean soup, Mr. Zhao focused on Tian Di. “Will you be on that entertainment TV show tonight?”
Tian Di narrowed his eyes. “Yes. They interviewed us before the sound check last night.”
Jordon tried not to go all dreamy but couldn’t help it. “Tian Di did a magnificent job. He answered all the questions while still giving an air of rock-god mystery.”
Zhang Min choked on her laugh and shoveled some berries into her mouth.
“What Jordon means is the interview went well.” Tian Di downplayed his success.
Mr. Zhao shifted forward. “I understand your bandmate Styx was a bit camera shy.”
“How did you—” Jordon stopped himself.
Tian Di stated, “Jin, the guitarist, covered for him, and it worked.”
“Well, this Styx needs to stand on his own better. One can’t always depend on one’s significant other to bail them out.” Mr. Zhao made the pronouncement as if it were law—and wait, he not only knew but acknowledged Styx and Jin were together? Wow, this man was connected to things Jordon might not want to know about.
Everyone dropped their heads and stared at their fruit.
Except Jordon, who shook his head. “I don’t know if I agree with that, Mr. Zhao. I’d bet your lovely wife would stand up for you. I know Tian Di’s always got my back, and I’ll always have his.”
Mrs. Zhao and Zhang Min gasped. Tian Di gave Jordon a wide-eyed stare.
Mr. Zhao studied him for a moment and barked out a laugh. “I think I will enjoy having you around this table in the future, Jordon.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.” Not quite sure what to make of the sudden acceptance, he’d count this turn of events as a win until someone told him differently.
After tea, Zhang Min, Tian Di, and Jordon said their goodbyes and escaped.
Zhang Min and Tian Di fell into her town car. Jordon slipped in behind Tian Di.
“Home,” Zhang Min told the driver.
As they rode past the gates, Tian Di blew out a breath. “Whew, we survived.”
“Speak for yourself.” Zhang Min gave him a side-eyed glare and dropped her head to the back of the seat.
“You still my boyfriend?” Tian Di laid his head on Jordon’s shoulder and even batted his eyelashes. His tone held a note of teasing but with an undercurrent of worry.
Jordon hugged him tight. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. And wasn’t it you who taught me that if it rains we’ll deal with it?”
“My parents are more like a typhoon—”
“Life is going to throw some stupid at us, but we’ll handle it together.” Jordon wanted him to understand.
Zhang Min awwed them.
“Besides, parents love me. How can they not?” As long as they weren’t his own, of course.
Tian Di didn’t say anything, but he slipped a hand into Jordon’s and squeezed. And it was everything.
THE NEXT day, Zhang Min’s driver dropped Jordon and Tian Di at the entrance of the Peninsula Hong Kong. Two bellmen swung open the doors so they could enter.
Afternoon tea was held in the hotel’s white lobby. The ceilings soared high above them, and pillars surrounded the room. Each was highlighted by gilded artistic details on top, and the design edged and crisscrossed the entire ceiling. Tall potted plants scattered through the lobby gave a sense of privacy. A five-piece band played classical music on the balcony overlooking the room. If the Peninsula was going for lush elegance, Jordon would call this success.
A petite woman in a sleeveless red dress waved to Jordon and Tian Di.
“That must be her,” Jordon said as they zigzagged their way over thick-cushioned gold rugs to her.
She held out her hand. “Hello, I’m Ashmi Duàn.”
“Jordon Davis. But please call me Jordon.” He hoped that cut off the need for formal surnames being used. “And this is—”
“Oh, I know Tian Di Zhao. I was at the concert last night with my girlfriend. Front row. Center.” She stared at him. “You are extremely talented.”
“You’re very kind. It is very nice to meet you, Ms. Duàn.” Tian Di shook her hand.
After a long moment, she gestured for them to join her at the shiny cherrywood table. “Please take a seat, and please call me Ashmi. I ordered the Peninsula Classic Afternoon Tea for three. You’ll just need to pick your tea.”
A waiter arrived with a tier of plates holding an incredible selection of finger sandwiches and tea pastries, along with warm chocolate-chip scones, clotted cream, and a mix of berry preserves.
She handed them an extensive tea menu.
Jordon was a little overwhelmed by the five pages of choices and wished Justin or even Andrew were here to help him navigate the options. “What are you going to have?”
“I usually order rose tea. What kind will you have?” Ashmi asked.
Jordon surveyed the tea and decided, “I’ll have the same.”
Tian Di smiled. “Rose tea is my favorite.”
“I didn’t know that.” Jordon grinned at learning a new detail about his boyfriend. There were so many things they had yet to discover about each other, and he couldn’t wait.
The white-gloved waiter came back and poured tea into the cups via the silver tea strainer to catch any stray leaves or rosebuds not staying in the pot. The scent of roses wafted through the air, reminding Jordon of their outside onsen in Japan. The waiter replaced the pot on the silver rest so there were no drips on the pristine tablecloth.
Throughout the ritual, Ashmi kept staring at him and Tian Di.
After one sip, Jordon inclined his head toward Tian Di. “Before we go, remind me to nab two bags of this tea and strainers for Andrew and Justin. I think they’d love it.”
As soon as the waiter vanished, Ashmi asked in a low voice, “Are you two together?”
Jordon opened his mouth, but what could he say?
She shook her head. “I won’t out you. I’m gay too. When I said ‘my girlfriend,’ I really mean my girlfriend. We’ve been together for three years.”
Staring at Tian Di, Jordon was pretty sure he heard the man’s thoughts. Couples communication was indeed a thing. “Thank you for sharing that with us. We’re not hiding our orientation, but right now we’re not announcing it.”
“I won’t say anything, but to know people I admire are like me… matters.” Ashmi dabbed her eyes with a tissue.
Crazy pressure started to surge in Jordon. Tian Di used his f
oot to touch Jordon’s, and the connection calmed the rage of nervousness.
“So, Jordon, I’m a huge fan. Can you sign these for us?” She pulled out five books.
“Of course.” He dug around his bag for his gold pen.
“When did you start drawing?” Ashmi’s question put the afternoon back on track.
DUSTY AND Justin altered their plans and decided to go to Macau to cause trouble with Angel and Darius, taking Zack and Andrew with them. Jordon took the time and consumed the Hong Kong Museum of Art, the shops on Cat Street, Stanley Market, and had lots of fun with Tian Di and Zhang Min doing everything and nothing. Now Jordon and Tian Di headed over to the Celestial Court to meet his brothers and their significant others for dim sum.
Outside the restaurant, Jordon answered a call from an unknown number. “Hello?”
“Jordon. This is Mr. Zhao. Tian Di’s father.”
Why in the world was he calling? Was he going to warn Jordon off his son? And how did he get this number? “Hi. I hope you’re well.”
“Yes, I am. I wanted to thank you. That must have been quite a lovely tea. Chairman Duàn said his daughter was thrilled and didn’t stop talking about you or my son. I don’t know what you said to his daughter, but we won their business.”
“Mr. Zhao, I didn’t say anything to her about your business.” Was that what he was expected to do?
“Ah, very smart of you.” Mr. Zhao sounded unduly impressed by Jordon’s lack of business knowhow.
What in Michelangelo was this?
“You and my son make quite the power couple. Extend my thanks to him as well. And if you have time before you go to the next stop on the tour—Singapore, I believe—please come back for dinner.” The call disconnected.
Jordon stared at his cell phone.
“What?” Tian Di glanced at Jordon’s phone.
“That was your dad. He thanked us for getting him Ashmi’s father’s business and called us a power couple.”
“A power couple?” Tian Di shook his head.
“Come on, let’s power through some dim sum, then some.”
“What?”
“Dumb joke.”
