James turns from Katherine to Brenda, then back to Katherine. Both women are watching him. “Um,” he says, stalling, “Ma is definitely a vegetarian now. But the Christmas party was always, well, kind of a meat free-for-all. So, I don’t know.”
The parties all began with readings from the gospel, but they devolved to food, drink, loud talk, and laughter, children running, shrieking, breaking things, chaos, more chaos, his father getting drunk with Lynn’s father, engaging in a round of camaraderie and insults, and his mother darting in and out of the kitchen—“like a chicken with her head cut off!” Leo Chao said—until everyone had eaten themselves into a state of food-drunkenness, and drunk themselves to the brink of palpitations, and staggered off into the night.
Alf is snoozing with his head propped up on Brenda’s lap. Brenda is eyeing James as if they share a secret.
Katherine is saying, “… tea candles, mistletoe, really good party crackers with—”
“What about Dagou?” James interrupts. His mother was always indifferent to candles, wreaths, miniature lit villages, and fresh-cut spruce trees. He recalls Dagou’s notebook. “I think Dagou’s been making plans. He wants a simple meal—”
“In honor of your mother’s friends,” Brenda finishes.
In the silence that follows, James hears the clear and mystical sound of a single chime. Brenda slips a phone out of her pocket, checks it. She leaves the room. Traitorously, Alf follows again.
James and Katherine sit listening to Brenda’s half-audible murmur from the kitchen. Katherine twists the jade ring on her finger. She meets his eye and smiles. James feels an answering smile fade from his face. He does not possess emotional self-control anywhere near as strong as hers. And yet, as she becomes engrossed in her own phone, he sees something desolate in the privacy of her bent neck. They can still hear Brenda’s voice. It’s like listening to an unknown woman talking and laughing through a bedroom wall.
Katherine puts her phone into her purse. “Dagou has been honest with me,” she says. “He’s caught up in the idea of pursuing a friendship with Brenda. Mary Wa thinks Brenda is trying to steal him away from me. But, of course, that can’t be possible. She’s not a femme fatale. We’ve been making friends. She turns out to be a lot like me; she’s an ambitious woman who grew up in the middle of nowhere. The minute she leaves Haven, she’ll see the opportunities available to her. She’ll forget about the restaurant and the things she’s doing now. She’ll be caught up in the professional opportunities of a city.”
Over Katherine’s shoulder, James sees Alf enter the room ahead of Brenda, whose pace is dreamy. He gestures to Katherine, but she continues, determined. “And Brenda has so many ambitions that have nothing to do with Haven. She wants to move to Los Angeles!”
Brenda takes her seat, patting the cushion next to her. Alf jumps up. “Actually,” she says, “that idea is something you kind of made up as you were talking before. I don’t want to move to Los Angeles.”
“You did theater in high school,” Katherine points out. “You said you’d like to pursue your interests.”
“I’m a small-town actor.” Brenda shrugs. “My plans aren’t professional. I’m not hung up on the superiority of a professional life, or living in a big city. I don’t need to go anywhere.”
Katherine nods and smiles, but James can tell that Brenda’s lack of ambition has caught her off balance. She’s tried to empower Brenda, to elevate her future in a way that Brenda couldn’t care less about. Brenda has slipped out of this plan, shrugged out of it.
“What are your interests?”
“I’ll remodel my home. I’ll go to the gym. That’s the kind of woman I want to be.”
James’s laughter catches in his throat.
“It’s true, James. I don’t want to work,” Brenda says. Her confidence is superb. James believes her. It’s as if he’s never seen her fill a pitcher of water or burn her hand on a hot dish. “My long-range goal,” she says, “is to marry into wealth. And for that, there are opportunities right here in Haven.”
Katherine’s tone hardens almost imperceptibly. “If that’s what you want, why don’t you go after Ming?”
“If you don’t know why,” Brenda says with a chilly smile, “then you’re dumber than you look, Katherine.”
James changes the subject. “Dagou’s not wealthy,” he points out.
“Not now,” Brenda says. Again, in the smug curve of her red lips, James glimpses a surety that would be absurd if it were not for the beauty of her mouth.
“And he’s not going to stay in Haven,” Katherine says. Although he’s always believed Dagou would leave, James has now heard the truth from Dagou himself. Katherine’s certainty of the opposite—self-deception?—makes him uncomfortable. He grew up in a shouting house. He doesn’t know what to do about manipulative empowerment or chilly smiles.
“He came here to help out his mother,” Katherine continues, “but he doesn’t belong here. Isn’t that right, James?”
“I’ve been working at the lab this fall,” James says. “I’ve been really busy and haven’t had a chance to check in with him.” He feels pressured to keep talking. “Today at the Spiritual House—” He knows he’s said the wrong thing. “What I mean is—”
“Mary Wa told me what Dagou said. It’s true: we’re taking a break,” Katherine says, to reassure him he need not feel awkward.
“Okay,” James mumbles.
“But we’re not broken up—we’re on hiatus.” Katherine nods at her left hand.
“You’re still wearing the ring,” Brenda says. Next to her, Alf snorts in his sleep.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Katherine holds up her hand. The panther setting looks crude on her slender finger. But the jade glows with an almost unnatural green, and James understands it must, indeed, be very valuable.
“It’s a priceless ring,” Katherine murmurs, gazing at it. “A family ring. A symbol of the old country.”
“Dagou wants to sell it,” says Brenda conversationally.
Katherine flinches. “That’s not true. He once told me the ring isn’t about money. It’s about the value of family, the value of history. It’s to be given only, not sold, and given out of affection.” She turns to Brenda and a sudden rush of emotion comes into her voice. “I’d give the ring away, if someone really wanted it, but I would never sell it to anyone, not even—”
“That’s very generous of you,” says Brenda. “I’d assumed it was a symbol of your relationship with Dagou. An engagement ring.”
“Dagou and I have history,” Katherine says, and James can hear again, in her voice, what could be love, or pride, or hope. “We practically grew up together. We don’t—I don’t—need a piece of jewelry to represent our bond.”
“If you don’t need it, then will you give it to me?” Brenda asks. Stretching out a hand, opening a soft, pink palm.
Alf looks up.
“I’ll give it back to Dagou. I know Dagou wants it back,” Brenda says, continuing to hold out her open hand. “He wants to sell it for a down payment on a place here in Haven.”