“It’s not worth the money to them,” she says.
“I’ll make it worth the money,” Dagou growls, and opens his backpack. From this he draws forth a large stack of bills. Mary Wa’s eyes bulge. She can see inside the backpack a half-drunk bottle and still more money.
“Where did you get all that cash, you unfilial child?”
“None of your business, Ma Wa,” Dagou says. “I want to buy five pounds of fresh shrimp with the heads on, ten pounds with the heads off. I want ten live lobsters, three pounds of crab, five pounds of jellyfish, all you have of sharks’ fins, and”—he pauses, peering at the ceiling—“abalone? I suppose they won’t have the abalone. Find out, and if she does, get it for me. I need ’em to come out here now. I need it all by about one o’clock at the latest.” He pauses again. “Also, don’t tell her it’s for me. I don’t want my father to know about this.”
“Dagou, I’m worried you are heading for big trouble,” Mary Wa says, as she goes to the back room.
“That’s none of your business,” he calls after her.
As Dagou storms out, he stops in front of Alice, who has taken her seat at the stool, a little pale and sleepy. Dagou looks her over. She’s small-breasted, hook-nosed, with long arms and legs, long fingers, and a long, gracefully curved neck. Not bad. “My brother wants to sleep with you,” he says. “You should make him happy.” He sees her little mouth open, her features loosen in surprise. He shoots her a lewd grin and leaves the store.
The cab of the Toyota gives off a strong odor that reminds him of his father: the smell of alcohol and stale sweat. He remembers, without meaning to, Leo Chao in his loose working clothes, arms swinging at his sides, shouldering his way into the restaurant after a night away from home; Leo counting bills with his outsized hands.
He texts Brenda, to remind her that the party is at six-thirty.
From the Was’, he drives straight to the American liquor store. He walks in and orders cases of wine, beer, gin, vodka, mixers, and more whiskey, paying in cash.
“No, on second thought, double the liquor. I want to get everybody drunk,” he says to the proprietor, who helps him move case after case into the truck (already loaded with groceries from the Was’, plus oranges, lemons, limes, and maraschino cherries). “I want to get everyone especially drunk. But not as drunk as I want to get myself. You’re invited. Can you come?”
“I’m working late tonight,” says the proprietor. “Holidays. Sorry. Hope everyone has a good time. Merry Christmas.”
Late in the morning, Dagou signs in at the hospital as a visitor to Winnie Chao, bringing a thermos of broth with seaweed and a beaten egg white, a bouquet of balloons, and a Christmas card. Winnie’s voice is stronger; she has more color in her face. She beams as Dagou gives her a full report about his plans for the party. He tells her he’s invited his father. He’s done it indirectly, taping an invitation to the front door at the house. He wouldn’t disobey his mother, but he won’t speak to Leo.
Back in the truck, he texts Brenda for the second time: Party is at six-thirty. Don’t forget!
Early in the afternoon, two of the Skaer nephews and their friends, Tyrone and Freedy Davis, arrive at the restaurant with a largish package wrapped in butcher paper. He and James greet them at the door.
“What’s this?”
Cody Skaer shrugs. “It’s ten pounds of stew meat. My dad heard on the radio that you’re having a big party. He’s sending this meat along, compliments of the family.”
At his side, James flinches. “Dagou,” he whispers, “Ming says—”
Dagou notices Tyrone and Freedy examining the restaurant menu. Ming has always said the Skaers were racist bullies, but Ming has always been paranoid. Can the Skaers really be racists if they have Black friends? Dagou unwraps the package. “Mutton!” he says. A gift from an unexpected source; the generosity and forgivingness of Christmastime. This would be the red stew. He asks James to chop a lot of ginger and five bunches of scallions to go with it. He tells Cody, “You’re all invited to the party!” He doesn’t believe the Skaers will come—he knows that they, mysteriously, hold something against him. But he wants to make sure they know they’re invited.
He prepares some takeout to send with the nephews back to Trey Skaer: a quart of wonton soup, a large order of chicken with broccoli, and a large order of orange beef.
Tyrone lingers near the kitchen, observing with curiosity the crowded counters, the enormous, steaming pots of broth. “What’s all this for?”
“It’s gonna be the best meal ever,” Dagou says. “You like Chinese food?”
“My family moved here from Houston. Lots of Chinese food. I love it.”
“Are you interested in restaurants?”
“I’m going into the business.”
Perfect. “Listen, would you and your brother want to come back? Could I hire you to help with the party? I’ll pay you, and I’ll show you some tips, fifteen dollars an hour, each. Cash.”
In half an hour Tyrone and Freedy are back. Dagou gives them aprons and sets them to chopping vegetables.
For the third time, he texts Brenda. Did you get my texts?
After several minutes, his phone beeps with a reply. He has to read the message twice before he can comprehend the words.
Sorry, Eric Braun has unexpectedly come back to town. Hope it’s okay for me to bring him to the party.
The Greatest Christmas Party Ever
As far as parties are concerned, there are many ways to greatness. There’s greatness of style, of setting, of occasion, and of company. There’s greatness of food. But behind the most magnificent parties—the spirit, the festivity, the celebration, and the meal—there must beat a generous heart. Dagou’s skills in the kitchen are a gift from God. But his heart is Winnie’s. Her lavishness, her extravagance flowing from a need to share, to please, and to heal.
Now, as the first guests enter laden with Bibles and wrapped presents, they gaze about and gasp; the small dining room has been transformed by Katherine into a Christmas gift. Tiny lights outline the ceiling and the walls. The red tablecloths sparkle with glitter and glow with lit centerpieces. The faded scarlet lamps are delicately garlanded with ribbons and real holly berries. Suffusing the scene is a mouthwatering blend of succulent and savory smells. Proudly, Katherine welcomes everyone by name. Dagou has given her the role of hostess. He’s in the kitchen, setting out the courses and preparing for the final, torrid stir-fries; neither he nor James can long be spared to stand at the door. Brenda is nowhere in sight.
Katherine shows the guests where to put their Christmas presents. She seats them near the twinkling fir tree. Everyone smiles and nods, trying to make their love palpable, making sure she feels the warmth of belonging. Mary Wa presses a wrapped gift into her hands. This is something Winnie used to do—in the years before she renounced possessions, Winnie always gave Katherine a gift at the party.