“I am. And you are.”
She was quiet until it felt like she’d been quiet for too long, and then, “Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
After Saina hung up the phone, she stood in the hallway for a moment with her eyes closed. It was comforting being in the midst of such a din, becoming invisible in a way she realized she never had in America.
Had she just un-broken-up with Leo? She had. She had. It meant that she would meet Kaya and accept that someone else had already done the good work of anchoring him in the world. Was that okay? It would have to be, at least for now.
Without even realizing it, Saina was smiling to herself. If she walked back into the banquet room now, Andrew and Grace would definitely know that something had happened. Stalling, she scanned her emails. There was a new message from Xio, the curator who had written to her months before, asking her to propose a project for the new Beijing Biennial.
Dear,Saina,
How are you?I know we already try,to inquire if you are interested?Although I do not hear you back,now I try for second time,because,we have a confirmed artist from Israel who have many visa problems,so he cannot participate any more.Perhaps I askasecond time and have a better reply?I hope so!We think this is a verygood opportunity.This is not nonsense just to promote friendship,to give opportunity for banquet.It isofficial Biennial.We work with top museum in many country: Dubai,Russia,Portugal,Uruguay,and more.
Addendum:Please excuse my poor English!My assistant is not here today so I write for myself!
Hope stabbed at her. She hit reply and wrote:
Xio—
So lovely to hear from you again, and big apologies for not getting back to you much sooner! Believe it or not, I am actually in China right now, not far from Beijing, and would love to set up a time to meet and discuss possibilities! Are you free this week?
Send.
And then, without letting herself think about it, she pulled up Grayson’s email and hit reply. Typing quickly, she wrote:
I can’t love you anymore.
Send.
Saina was still standing in the hallway, knowing that she had stayed away long enough to be noticed, when Bing Bing grabbed her hand.
“It. Is. Time to. Go. The hos. Pital. Call. They. Say to. Come. Now.”
四十九
THEY WERE running blind through the long hospital corridors, past the ward of wounded, past the newborn babes, Bing Bing bringing up the rear carrying, of all things, a thermos printed with an image of Barney the dinosaur. It was nighttime again. In each of their three hearts was pure panic. Pulses stampeding, they approached the door to their father’s room just as a doctor was walking out. He looked up at them, weary.
“You’re Mr. Wang’s children?” he asked, in Mandarin.
They nodded. “What’s happening?” asked Saina.
“He had another small stroke. We’ve stabilized him and we’re monitoring his vitals. We’ve given him some medication so he may be—”
Grace cut in. “But what does that mean?”
Andrew looked through the window into his father’s room. His stepmother had arrived. She was lying on top of the covers, her body folded around his father’s, their hands entwined, the tips of her stockinged feet touching his, a pair of dumplings wound in hospital sheets. They looked beautiful like that, his shrinking parents, lying nose to nose. A sudden fear raced through him, and he pulled Grace by the arm. “Let’s talk to the doctor later, come on,” he urged.
Their father and Barbra both looked up. “Ah, Andrew will know. Who is the Viking?”
“Dad, what are you talking about?”
“He is very confused,” said Barbra, clutching his hand tighter, her eyes not leaving his face. “He was okay, but now he keeps asking about the Viking.”
Andrew knelt by the side of the bed. “Dad, do you mean Leif Eriksson?”
Charles beamed. “Yes! Very smart boy. Always very smart, very good. But everybody wrong, they are not the ones who discover America. Not Vikings. Not Christopher Columbus. He discover nothing!”
“Okay, Dad.” What was happening? It was like his father was drunk.
“Je chuang je me ne me chou? Shei gei wo mai yi ge chou de chwang?”
“Hou le la,” soothed Barbra.
“Dad. Baba.” Grace crouched uncertainly at the foot of the bed. She wanted to crawl onto the mattress, but there wasn’t any more room.
“Grace, Meimei.” Charles looked at his daughter. “You are very smart, too. You know that love too much is okay. That is the best thing in life. Love too much.” Charles looked up as Saina came into the room. “Jiejie!” There was something he had to tell her; there were things he had to make sure all of his children knew. “Sai-na. My beauty. Oh yes.” No. That wasn’t it. The words weren’t traveling correctly between his heart and his head.
“I should get the doctor back,” said Saina. The five of them fit into such a small space. She squeezed in closer. “Should I?”
No one answered.