by Vivien Chien
When she returned, I noticed that she had combed her hair and adjusted the ponytail so she didn’t look quite as disheveled. Her movements were jittery as she picked up the kettle and poured two cups of tea, hot water spilling onto the counter. “Would you like to sit in the other room? It’s more comfortable in there.”
“Sure, whatever’s easiest,” I said. The kitchen table was covered with random mail and paperwork. I didn’t want to see her go to the trouble of moving everything into different spots.
I followed her back into the living room with my cup of tea, and sat down in the rocking chair. It creaked as I leaned back and I questioned whether or not it would hold me.
“I appreciate you bringing me some food from the restaurant. But you didn’t have to go to any trouble.” She set her teacup on the coffee table in front of her and leaned back into the couch. “I feel guilty already with Ruby making such a fuss. Do you know she was at the hospital every day as soon as visiting hours would start?”
“I’m sure that Ruby doesn’t feel burdened. And neither do I. It was really no trouble at all,” I told her. “We need to keep Peter busy anyhow. He’s been so worried about his mother that he’s a nervous wreck all day long. Cooking gives him something productive to do.”
“How is Nancy?” Sandra gazed down at her hands, which were in her lap. She seemed so small sitting on the couch, like she’d sunken into the upholstery.
“She’s better. Still very bruised and sore, but all in all, she’s doing well.”
Sandra nodded. “Good, I’m so glad to hear it. I’ve been meaning to contact her, but I don’t feel much like talking to anybody.”
I stared into my teacup. Was that a hint? “I know this must be so hard for you. Especially with everything that’s involved with it.”
Her eyes met mine. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well … just that…” I focused on my teacup again. “All the rumors … and the media…”
“None of it is true,” Sandra said, lifting her chin. “I loved my husband very much. He could be a hard man sometimes, but he took care of me. I don’t know who would do something like this.”
I wanted to call her out, but I couldn’t exactly tell her that Calvin had told me about the pending divorce that she had planned not that long ago. I still wondered what made her change her mind in the end. Maybe she really did love him after all. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. I just meant that I’ve heard what people have been saying, and I can imagine that would make things more difficult for you. Because you did love your husband.”
Her shoulders sagged and she let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Lana. I didn’t mean to snap at you. You have been so nice to bring me a care package, and this is how I treat you.”
I leaned forward in my seat, the chair creaking with my movement. “Don’t mention it. Really. I understand.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do now. The investigation is holding things up, and I don’t know how long it will take me to get the insurance money. Without the truck, I will have to start all over again.”
“Do you think that your husband was murdered on purpose?” I asked.
“What?”
“Well, I just mean … do you think he was the target? Because maybe someone…”
Her eyes bulged. “How can you say this to me?”
I held up a hand. “Well, I just meant, is it possible this wasn’t a random attack? I know that Calvin thinks it was, but if Ronnie—”
“No one murdered my husband on purpose,” she replied firmly. A little too firmly, if you ask me.
“But it could be possible that—”
“No! Why would someone kill him?” Her voice rose. “What happened had nothing to do with him!”
“I’m sorry to upset you,” I whispered.
“I think I should be by myself now,” she said, rising from the couch. “Thank you for the food.”
I took that as my cue to leave. I set my teacup on the coffee table and walked with my head down to the door. I felt embarrassed and about five years old right about then.
She opened the door, and stood rigid, refusing to make eye contact with me. “Good-bye, Lana.”
“Bye, Sandra,” I stopped on the threshold, hoping she would look at me, but she wouldn’t. With a sigh, I headed out onto the stoop.
She slammed the door behind me, and I flinched. This had not gone as I planned at all.
CHAPTER
17
In the time I’d been inside, Adam had called and left a message telling me to call him back.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said when he answered the phone. “What trouble are you getting into now?”
“Why do you always assume the worst about me?” I asked as I started the engine.
“I’ve found it’s best to always think you’re up to something. That way when you’re not, I can be pleasantly surprised.”
“Har-har.” I checked for oncoming traffic and pulled out from the curb, making my way back to the freeway.
“So, dinner with your family, huh? That should be interesting.”
“Tell me you can’t make it. Tell me you have to work late. Save yourself from the impending tragedy that will be tonight’s family dinner.”
“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad, can it?” he asked.
“Yes, and so much worse than you can possibly imagine.”
“Well, as luck would have it, I’m available tonight. I’m excited to meet your aunt. And besides, I wouldn’t want to disappoint Mama Lee. I’m still trying to win points with her.”
“She’s impressed with the fact that you want to take me on vacation. So that’s something in your favor.”
He chuckled. “And how’s your father feel about it?”
“His eye twitches a little bit, but I think he’ll be fine eventually,” I joked.
“Oh good, so I’ll pick you up at seven?”
“Sure, that sounds good,” I said. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Do you think it’s odd that neither Calvin nor his mother want to acknowledge that what happened to Ronnie might have been done intentionally?”
“Lana.”
I could almost hear him shaking his head. “What? I just think it’s weird that both of them were offended by it. Don’t you?”
He groaned. “Not necessarily. I think the idea of your loved one being intentionally done in is more upsetting than it being a random act of violence. I mean, think about it. If it were me, would you rather me be murdered or die by circumstance? You know, wrong place, wrong time.”
“Well, either one is horrible. But if there was the slightest possibility of you being murdered, I’d want to consider it and then if that’s what happened, I’d want my revenge on that person. Like that one movie with the guy who goes after everyone that killed his family.”
“Oh, that one movie, huh?”
“Yeah … you know, that one … with the guy.”
He sighed. “Our conversations are not like other couples’, are they?”
“No, no, they’re not.”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up at seven, babe. Try to do minimal damage until then.”
We hung up as I merged onto I-271 South, heading back to the plaza. I’d been gone a shorter time than I originally intended and I’m sure Anna May would be relieved to see me back sooner than expected.
As I drove, I thought about what Adam said about Sandra’s reaction. I guess I could see where he was coming from, and maybe I was just different. I’ve always been one to examine all the possibilities, even the outrageous ones. Although, in this case, it wasn’t that outrageous considering what type of person Ronnie had been. But there was still a possibility that the murder might have been an accident and that damage was only meant to be done to the truck.
Still, with things the way they were, you would think that Sandra and Calvin would want to get to the bottom of it no matter what the answer might be. He was their husband
and father. There was only one reason I could think of that would cause them to not entertain the idea at all. And that was if they already knew the answers.
* * *
When I made it back to the restaurant, I found it empty. Not a single customer occupied any of the tables. Anna May was up at the hostess counter with a law book open on the lectern, a highlighter poised and ready to weed out the important information.
“Let me ask you a question,” I said as I approached her.
“If it’s about getting out of tonight, you can forget about it. You’re going to be there even if it kills you. I had to survive the last family dinner without you, and I’m not doing it again.”
“No, it’s not that. Adam and I will both be there tonight.”
She glanced up from her book. “Detective Hottie Pants is actually coming? I’m impressed.”
“Detective Hottie Pants? Have you been talking to Megan?”
“What’s your question, Lana?”
“Say I was killed in a strange accident—”
“What kind of question is that?” My sister gawked at me.
“Just go along with it.”
“Fine.” She waved a hand at me. “Continue.”
“Okay, say I was killed in an accident and no one was a hundred percent sure what happened. I could have either been murdered on purpose or by accident. Wouldn’t you want to find out if I was murdered on purpose?”
“Of course I would,” she replied.
“Thank you. That’s what I said.”
“I’d want to know, then I’d sue the pants off that person, and I’d buy everybody in the family a Mercedes in your honor.”
I stared blankly at my sister. “You are such a b—”
“Hey, watch your mouth, young lady, this is a family restaurant.” She snickered to herself and returned to her book.
“Can you just answer the question seriously?”
She huffed, setting her highlighter in the spine of her book. She folded her hands over the open pages and looked at me plainly. “Yes, Lana, I would want to know the truth. For better or worse, you’re my sister. I’m not going to let someone get away with murder … especially if they killed you on purpose.”
I nodded in satisfaction. “That’s what I think too.”
“But you can’t expect everyone to feel that way, Lana. Death is a hard pill to swallow.”
“I know, but shouldn’t the truth be more important? So you can get closure? Wouldn’t you want to know the why of everything?”
“Some people will never get that kind of closure, Lana. Sometimes, gone is just gone, and no matter what the circumstances were, it won’t make it better.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right about that.”
“I’m often right,” she said with a smirk. “And if you’re asking this because of the situation with the Chows, I would just drop it. Stay out of it and let the cops do their job. Something has always struck me as weird about that family, and the last thing I would want is for you to get involved.”
If I’d been sitting down, I would have fallen off my chair. My sister rarely showed that kind of concern for me during our little chats. Usually she would harass me for being a busybody and that would be the end of it. “Well, thanks, big sister,” I said, unsure of what else to say.
“To be honest with you, I wouldn’t doubt it that Ronnie was killed on purpose. And who knows if whoever did it is done with their mission. I can’t believe that no one has considered that maybe Sandra was meant to be in that truck too.”
“Do you really think that could be a possibility?”
“Well, until they catch whoever did this, they’re not going to know why anything happened. So far it seems that no one has gone after Sandra, but she did just get out of the hospital. Who knows what could happen next.”
My mind started to drift with the thoughts of what could happen next.
“Now stop worrying about it and butting in. Go in the back and count the cash or whatever it is that you do. I want to finish studying since our night is going to be occupied with family time.”
“Ugh, I can hardly wait,” I replied.
“If there are any two people who can make you and me look like sisters of the year, it’s definitely Mom and Aunt Grace.”
CHAPTER
18
After work I rushed home and readied myself for dinner with my family, both mentally and physically. Anna May made me swear up and down that I would not be late—as I usually am—because she didn’t want to get stuck in the middle of an argument should one arise before I got there.
Adam picked me up promptly at 7 P.M. and we made our way over to Bo Loong on St. Clair Avenue.
I noticed that my parents’ and sister’s cars were already in the parking lot. When we passed my sister’s car on the way in, she opened the driver’s side door so fast that the motion startled me.
“Anna May!” I yelled. “Give me a heart attack!”
“It’s not my fault you’re not observant,” my sister said as she got out of the car and shut the door. “I told you I didn’t want to go in unless you were here. It’s safer in the parking lot.”
Adam, who was standing behind me, squeezed my shoulders. “Don’t you two start … from what I’m gathering, you have enough to contend with.”
“He’s right,” I said. “We can’t be bickering too.”
The three of us of trudged to the door.
My father was facing the door and not participating in whatever conversation was going on. He waved us over when he saw us coming in.
“Hi, Dad.” I made my way around the table and gave him a quick hug.
My grandmother smiled at us, her silver teeth sparkling.
“Hi, girls,” my aunt Grace said.
Her eyes landed on Adam and I swear I saw a glint of approval in her eye as she assessed him.
“Aunt Grace, this is my boyfriend, Adam,” I said, squeezing his arm. “Adam, this is my aunt Grace.”
My aunt smiled, extending a hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Adam, I’ve heard so many things about you.”
He shook her hand and gave me a wink. “Hopefully my reputation is intact.”
I eyed my mother who I knew was the culprit. She didn’t know too much about Adam’s and my relationship, but I’m sure that she threw in a lot of her own opinions.
My mother busied herself with filling teacups and set them at each of our place settings. “Come. Sit. We will eat soon.”
My sister sat next to my father and I sat between her and Adam. Adam sat next to my grandmother who patted his arm in recognition.
My mother turned to me, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Sandra Chow called me today.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked innocently, grabbing one of the menus. It was a pointless endeavor. More often than not, when we ate as a group, my mother was the one who selected all the plates and we would eat family-style, sampling from all of the dishes.
“Do you know what she said to me?”
I could feel my mother’s eyes boring into me. I lifted the menu higher, hoping the plastic menu would protect me from her interrogation.
My sister kicked me under the table. “What did you do now, Lana?”
“Nothing,” I mumbled. “Look at your menu.”
My mother tsked. “Why did you bother Sandra and ask her who killed her husband? This is not for you to worry about.”
I heard Adam groan.
“Because,” I said, setting the menu down, “I just wanted to know what she thought, is all. Am I not allowed to ask a simple question?”
“You need to mind your own business,” my mother said firmly. “You are always causing trouble.”
“I’m not always causing trouble,” I said, feeling my cheeks getting warm. “I was only trying to help. Something isn’t right, can’t anybody else see that?”
My grandmother asked what was going on, and my aunt filled her in. My grandmother only nodded in return and sipped her tea.
“You are always too hard on the girls,” my aunt Grace said nonchalantly. She leaned back in her chair, appearing casual. “Especially Lana.”
My mother’s eyes darted to her sister and she regarded her with a contemptuous glare. “I know how to talk to my daughter.”
“Do you?” Aunt Grace asked in a challenging tone. “Look at this girl.” She pointed at me. “She’s doing wonderful. She’s come from a hard time and now she’s running the restaurant, has a handsome boyfriend, and is a smart girl who thinks on her feet. What more can you ask for? So she’s a little curious at times. What’s wrong with that?”
My sister snorted and this time it was my turn to kick her under the table.
Before my mother could respond, the server came over and asked to take our order.
My mother rattled off a variety of dishes, including sautéed watercress, Szechuan shrimp, beef with broccoli, pan-fried noodles with vegetables, egg drop soup, and pot stickers.
Once the server left, my mom turned back to her sister, pursing her lips. “You forget, you may be the older sister, but I am the mother. You do not tell me what to do.”
“Yes, yes. We all know you’re a mother,” Aunt Grace spat. “But that doesn’t mean you’re wiser than me.”
My mother scowled. Her expression was pure disgust and I could tell she was ready to blow up any minute.
“So,” my dad interjected. “Lana, how was business at the restaurant today?”
I shrugged. “Actually it was kind of slow. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.” For once, I wished I’d had a crazy day just so I could tell the story and take the attention away from the topic at hand.
He nodded and sipped his tea. Everyone sat in an awkward silence.
My aunt, who is never one to back down from a fight, acknowledged me with a tight-lipped smile. “Lana dear, do you think this woman is guilty of something and that’s why you’re getting involved?”
My mother clucked her tongue.
I hesitated to answer. I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to voice exactly how I felt in front of everyone, especially with Adam sitting right next to me.
“Not guilty … but I do think she’s hiding something,” I said quietly. “I just can’t figure out what it would be.”
