by Jean Kwok
“Great roaches . . .”
“Ugh. But look, you don’t need money to love someone, and you don’t need success to have kids and make a life together. Isn’t that what counts?”
“I’m only eighteen! How can I even think about having kids now?”
“You’d be a great mother.”
“I’d be a great surgeon.”
“Okay.” He sat back. “That too. But see, that’s what I mean. Like now, I’m wondering when you’re going to leave me for bigger and better things.”
“Never,” I said, and I leaned across the table, pulled him toward me and kissed him.
His golden eyes were warm again. “I’d go anywhere with you, Kimberly. But I want to be the one taking care of you.”
The weeks that followed formed the happiest period of my life. Within a few days, Mrs. Avery had arranged for us to move into the new apartment by the beginning of the next month, May. Ma went to the jewelry factory in Chinatown that Matt had told us about years before, and came home with a large sack of beads and wires and tools. We were paid very little for the work, but until the end of the school year, we had the extra hours I worked at the library to supplement our income. I knew, though, that it would be difficult to live on this jewelry-making alone.
“Thank goodness we’re moving,” Ma said. “Our hands would get much too cold to be able to do this kind of handwork in the winter.”
“As soon as I graduate, I’ll be free to work much more for us, Ma,” I said. I could type very quickly by then and I thought I would be able to get some office work at least.
“You just worry about your studies. Now that we don’t have those debts to Aunt Paula anymore, we’ll manage.”
The college admissions news created quite a stir at Harrison. I was a part of the blessed circle of kids who’d gotten into the best schools. Dr. Copeland congratulated me in the hallway when she passed me. Other kids turned to look when I walked by. Annette had been accepted to Wesleyan and Curt was going to RISD.
“I’ll be in Connecticut too!” Annette said, nearly choking me with her arms around my neck. “We’ll be able to see each other all the time!”
After Curt had seen Matt at Harrison, I’d only had to tell him I couldn’t meet him that week for tutoring.
“I told you I understood,” he said, avoiding my gaze. His clothes were disheveled and his eyes were shadowed. We didn’t meet again after that.
Matt fit into every aspect of my life. Some Sundays, he came over and helped us finish our new jewelry work. It was funny to see such a large man bent over feminine jewelry, especially with his clumsy hands. He still did his best and Ma appreciated his help. Whenever Matt and I could, we snuck away to his apartment, where we could have some privacy. It was hard to imagine how he, Park and his ma had lived in such a small space. The studio apartment was so tiny that they had to put their mattresses and bedding in the closet every day so they had enough room to eat and walk around. Matt and I were so frantic for each other we could hardly wait to get the mattresses out of the closet before we started touching each other.
Matt quit his job at the factory and soon started working for a moving company. He always liked jobs that got him into even better shape than he was already in. The money was good and he knew exactly what he’d be earning each month.
“You didn’t have to leave the factory for me,” I said.
“I’ve wanted to go for a long time anyway. I only stayed so I could help my ma sometimes and to keep an eye on Park.”
Park withdrew almost completely into himself after his mother’s death. He became so regressive, I feared for our ability ever to reach him again. He started peeing in his pants like a baby. He didn’t react at all to anything, not to speech, not to gestures. Matt practically had to feed him to get him to eat and Park became alarmingly thin. He stayed alone in their apartment or with their elderly neighbor who had always taken care of him when Matt and his ma needed to be somewhere else. Sometimes Park hung around the garage of the moving company where Matt worked.
“The guys there are all right,” Matt said. “They don’t mind Park being there. They know he’s okay.”
I knew that meant Matt was popular there, as he had been at the factory, and that the guys put up with Park because he was Matt’s brother.
I had learned Matt was friends with everyone in Chinatown. We never had to wait in line anywhere. Once, we needed to buy some groceries for Ma. The fishmonger saw Matt and asked us for our order immediately, despite all the customers who’d been waiting before us.
I whispered to Matt, “So you used to scale fish here too?”
He looked embarrassed and said, “Nah. I’ve lived in Chinatown a long time, you get to know everyone.”
Ma commented later that she had never gotten such fresh sea bass, and so much of it too.
When we passed the guy at the newspaper stand, Matt would call out, “Hey, you need a break? I’ll take the stand for you while you take a leak.”
“No, Matt, but thanks.”
“How about I get you a cup of coffee, then?” Matt would look at me and say, “You mind? Poor man’s cooped up in there all day.”
I never minded. It only made me love him more.
I wanted Annette to meet him and she came to Chinatown to join us for a cup of tea. She was the only white person in the café and she insisted on having the most Chinese drink we could think of, which was red bean ice. It was also one of my favorites: cooked red beans and shaved ice mixed together with sweetened condensed milk.
“Are they going to give it to me the Chinese way?” she asked. “Did the waiter tell the cook it’s for a white person?”
Ever since I’d mentioned how some Chinese restaurants did that, Annette had worried about not getting authentic food.
“I already asked the waiter to give us everything without change,” Matt said. It was strange for me to hear him speak English, with a slight Chinese accent. A lock of his hair fell over his eyes and he smoothed it back with his hand.
“Thanks.” Annette grinned at me. “Now I see why you never fell in love with any of those guys at Harrison.”
I stepped on her foot under the table but it was already too late. “Which guys?” Matt asked.
“Nothing,” I said.
Annette giggled. “Kimberly, promise me we’ll see each other all the time next year.”
“I don’t know if I want to see a person who is so indiscreet.” I wrinkled my nose at her to show her I was kidding.
“I want to know about the guys,” Matt said.
“Oh look, the drinks are here,” I said.
One time, when Matt and I were walking down the street, I caught sight of Vivian in a flower shop we passed. If possible, she was even more beautiful than ever in her sorrow, with limpid eyes that looked as if the world had drowned in them. She happened to look up. When she saw us, she seemed heartbroken, her grief so complete that it left no room for anger. I thought, I never want to love someone like that, not even Matt, so much that there would be no room left for myself, so much that I wouldn’t be able to survive if he left me.
We were lying on his mattress in their apartment when Matt said to me, “Let’s just stay in Chinatown together.”
“What? You mean, not go to Yeah-loo?”
“School’s not that important anyway. Everything’s perfect now. We’re so happy. Stay with me. I’m earning enough. Step by step, we could build up a whole life together.”
There was no question: I wanted to be with Matt every day of the rest of my life. My heart ached for him whenever he wasn’t by my side. But it wasn’t that simple. Annette had given me her Yale catalog after I was accepted and I’d lingered on the photographs of their laboratories for a long time. They even had an astronomy observatory that any student could operate, simply by showing a Yale ID. Their professors were some of the most brilliant thinkers of our time. What would I be capable of after I had access to a place like this?
“Matt, I can’t give
Yale up. Come with me. We could get an apartment close to school. You could get a job there, I’m sure. And later, I’ll become a professor or a doctor, and we can do the most exciting things together. Travel. Have adventures. It’ll take time but eventually maybe you wouldn’t even have to work.”
His face fell and I knew I’d said too much. He shook his head slowly, looking at his rough hands. “I want to take care of you, Kimberly, not the other way around. That’s how it should be.”
“In the old days!” I tried to keep my voice light. “Why does it matter who earns more or less? It’s like you said, what’s important is that we build up a good life together.”
“I guess what I really hate is the idea that you’ll be in your classes next to those wave-players like that one you had, and they’ll all be chasing you.”
“What?” This had never occurred to me and I had to laugh. “We’ll be studying. No one is going to notice me in that way.”
“You have no idea. I know what men are like, trust me.”
“You sound worse than Ma. Even if they did try anything, I wouldn’t care because I already have you.”
He took me in his arms and kissed me hard. “I can’t help being jealous of any guy who gets to be near you for any reason. I’ve never been this bad before. It’s new for me to feel like this about someone.”
In those days, I wanted to believe our love was something tangible and permanent, like a good luck charm I could always wear around my neck. Now I know that it was more like the wisp of smoke trailing off a stick of incense: most of what I could hold on to was the memory of the burning, the aftermath of its scent.
In a way, I had known from the moment I saw the broken condoms. And strangely enough, the first person I told was Curt. He must have known something was wrong when I asked to meet him again. He was waiting for me at our old spot under the bleachers, but he didn’t try to touch me when I sat down.
“You okay?” he asked.
We sat there in silence a moment and then I started to cry. Curt wrapped his arm around me and held me against his shoulder. We sat like that for some time, with his cheek against the top of my head while I sobbed. Finally, I wiped my eyes on my sleeve.
“Is it that dickhead?” he asked gently.
I nodded. “He’s not a—”
“Okay, okay.” There was another silence and then Curt said, “Three choices. One, he dumped you. Two, you dumped him. Three, you’re knocked up.”
At this, my eyes filled with tears again.
He bent his head forward so he could see my face. “Kimberly, you’ve got to be kidding.”
I buried my head in my hands. “I feel so lost. I’ve never felt like this before. All my hopes, everything I wanted. Gone.”
There was a pause, then Curt asked helpfully, “You want me to marry you?”
Despite my tears, I choked out a laugh.
“No, really,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind too much. And we know we’re compatible.” He twitched his eyebrows suggestively.
I was more surprised at the thought of carefree Curt getting married than the fact that he’d want to get married to me. “You? What about your fear of the suburbs and a stable life?”
“We wouldn’t have to do all that. I could be free with you, Kimberly.” He looked away. “I missed you, when you were . . . occupied.”
Now I looked at his lowered eyelashes, which were the same sandy gold as his hair. He was serious, more than he sounded. He continued. “We could start again, completely fresh.”
“Curt, I love you.” I paused. “But not like that. And you don’t love me that way either. Actually, we’re friends. Friends who fool around.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, then sighed. “Yeah. You want me to give you some money?”
“You’re the sweetest guy there is.” I put my hand against his unshaven face. “It’s not that I don’t need it, but I can’t take it from you.”
“C’mon, Kimberly. If you want, you can borrow it and pay me back whenever you can. Baby costs lots of dough, you know.”
At this, the panic reared in me and threatened to take over. I struggled to stay in control. I managed to smile. “I’ve already used you for your body. I draw the line at using you for your money.”
He whistled. “How can you be so ethical at a time like this?”
I frowned. “Ethical. If you knew the things that were going through my head . . . Oh, Curt, what am I going to do?”
“Have you told the dickhead yet?”
“He’s not a . . . No.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“I don’t know.”
When it was time for me to go, Curt bent over to kiss me on the lips. I held his face in my hands, then turned so that his kiss landed on my cheek, to the side of my mouth.
With my eyes closed, I said, “Thanks for listening.”
“Lucky dickhead.”
In between classes, I met Annette in the bathroom. Since I’d just cried so much with Curt, I managed to keep my composure when I told her.
For once, Annette didn’t say anything. She just held me in an incredibly tight grip.
Then she spoke. “I’m here for you.”
I took a deep breath. “What do you think?”
“You need to tell him.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not? He has the right to know.”
I rubbed my eyes. “He does. But if I tell him, he’ll never let me . . . you know. He’ll want to keep it and get married. He’ll want us to stay in Chinatown.”
“I guess there are worse things than being an incredibly young mother and living with a hunk the rest of your life.”
“I don’t want to force him to be with me. I don’t even know if I can make him happy in the long run. What kind of wife would I be for him? Poor, stressed, frustrated, with all my potential unfulfilled.” I started to yank at my hair.
“Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself. You know what the easiest thing to do is. It’s to get rid of it and be with him and just never tell him. But you can’t do that. Probably the most likely thing is that you break up.”
I must have looked devastated, because she quickly added, “I’m sorry. And if you have the baby, it will mean your life will be harder, much harder, but it won’t mean it’s over.”
“If I’m lucky.”
“You’ve got something better than luck, you’re brilliant.”
“I wish I were so sure.”
Like a small child, I waited for Ma to come home from dropping work off at the jewelry factory. Now that I’d told Curt and Annette, the dam holding back my emotions had dissolved and I was overrun. When the apartment door finally opened, I ran to her as I’d done when I was a little girl.
“Ma!”
“Ah-Kim! What is it? What is it, my daughter?” She held me close, even though her head reached only to just above my shoulders, and then led me to a chair in the kitchen.
I couldn’t stop heaving, as if I were having convulsions. I had no tears left.
She waited for me to stop and then she said, “You have the big stomach.” She knew I was pregnant.
I couldn’t answer.
Her eyes were squeezed tight as she held me. Her head must have been spinning. Finally, in a low voice, she asked, “What did he say?”
“I can’t tell him.”
Now she lifted her head and stared at me. “You’re not thinking about dropping the fetus.” Having an abortion.
I could hear how dead my voice sounded. “What else can I do? How could I ever take care of you and Park and Matt and the baby?”
She laid a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll manage.”
With some anger, I brushed it off. “Like we’ve managed so far?” I let my gaze run through the dirty apartment. I thought about the woman and baby who used to live next door to us, in Mr. Al’s building. “I promised I would make a better life for you, Ma. I’m sorry I was so stupid.”
Ma’s voice broke. “My little girl, yo
u’ve had to do everything for us. I am the one who is sorry, sorry I couldn’t do more to help you.” She held my head in her arms.
“Ma? Did you ever wonder about marrying Pa?”
“When I chose your pa over Bob, I never imagined Aunt Paula would still bring us to America. She told me when she left Hong Kong that I would die there. I thought I was giving up my future for him. But if I’d married Bob instead, I would have regretted it the rest of my life. I’ve never stopped loving your pa, even now that he’s been gone for so many years.”
“But Pa made the decision to be with you forever of his own free will. I dreamed of Matt and me choosing a life together step by step. Tying him to me with a baby isn’t a part of that.”
“You may need to change your dreams. My little heart, listen.” Ma took me by the shoulders. “When you and Matt finally got together, it was something no one could fight. I’ve seen you love each other for years. When you were younger, I told you not to get too close to the other kids. I was afraid he would lead you down the wrong path. I understood later, however, that no one could lead you astray. I’m so proud of you. But sometimes our fate is different from the one we imagined for ourselves.”
TWELVE YEARS LATER
FOURTEEN
Pete, six years old, had hidden himself under the low blue table and was hanging on to one of its legs, refusing to come out.
“I thought he just had high blood pressure. I don’t understand why he needs surgery. Can’t he just take some pills?” The man’s tone was frustrated. He was short and bald, with a belly that hung over his pants.
“Mr. Ho, I’m afraid it’s more serious than that. Pete has coarctation of the aorta, which is a congenital heart defect.” I pulled over the large plastic model of a heart that I kept on my desk. I saw the boy under the table watching us as well.
Mr. Ho was blinking at me. Even though we were speaking Chinese, I could tell he hadn’t understood a word.
“It’s something that Pete was born with. You see this?” I gestured toward the aorta. “This is the main artery that takes blood from the heart to the body. This part is not wide enough.” I pulled out the echocardiogram of his heart. I smiled at the child. “Pete, would you like to see a picture of your heart?”
