China Dolls (21 page)

Everyone jammed around us to take stock of the new brother-in-law and inspect the girl who’d tagged along with the newlyweds.

Washington took charge. “Take a few minutes to freshen up, then
please return to the living room. Dinner will be served shortly.” Not much of a warm welcome—perfunctory at best—but I guess that was to be expected.

After everyone filed out, Eddie went in the bathroom to change. When he came out, he sat on the bed, pulled out a flask, and took two deep swigs.

“I don’t want to go out there by myself,” I said to him.

He gave me a steady look and then swiped another gulp from the flask.

“I’ll go with you,” Grace volunteered.

But when we got to the living room, Washington gestured to the kitchen door. I expected this too, and automatically obeyed. Grace followed me into the kitchen, where Mama directed all the activity. My sisters-in-law chopped, peeled, and obediently obeyed orders, while little kids ran in and out between their legs. Mama asked me to set the table—in Chinese so Grace wouldn’t understand. Rude. But I guided Grace to the compound’s dining room, which had one long table to accommodate thirty relatives plus guests. We set the table. People found their seats, and dishes started to stream out of the kitchen: almond chicken, roast duck, scrambled eggs with
char siu
, minced pork with pickled vegetables, tofu with black mushrooms, steamed fish with ginger, scallions, and cilantro. It wasn’t a fancy meal—just home cooking—but the clatter of chopsticks on the sides of rice bowls, the noisy slurping of tea, and the spitting out of bones and inedible bits all made me very happy.

Eddie still hadn’t appeared, and I could see Baba growing increasingly agitated, but Monroe was swell, sitting between Grace and me, putting tiny morsels from the main dishes into our rice bowls. (Could there be hope for Grace and Monroe yet? Doubtful … but maybe?) Baba and my other brothers talked among themselves; my sisters-in-law circulated to make sure the serving dishes never emptied, the teacups stayed full, and the children didn’t do anything to upset their elders, while I fretted the edge of my napkin. Where was Eddie? Why
did he have to humiliate me this way? He came from a good family. Didn’t he know the effect his tardiness would have on his father-in-law?

Eddie finally appeared and took the empty seat next to Baba. My father rapped his knuckles on the table to get everyone’s attention. The family fell silent as he congratulated me on my marriage and expressed “delight” at the forthcoming birth of his next grandchild through tight lips. Then Baba turned his attention to Eddie.

“Thank you for bringing our daughter home,” he intoned. “Now that she’s married, she won’t be in nightclubs anymore.”

Before Eddie could respond, I said, “Ba, the three of us have an act. I’m going back to the Forbidden City with my husband and Grace.”

“Not possible!” Baba practically roared.

“I’m afraid it is, sir.”

Baba turned to the man with the unfamiliar voice—my husband—and scowled. “It’s bad enough I have a daughter who shows her legs and arms in public, but a
married
daughter? And pregnant too? Who do I have for a son-in-law, who would allow his wife to expose herself that way?”

“I’m not exposing myself,” I said.

Baba blew air from his nose like a water buffalo trying to chase away gnats. “I might have known something like this would happen.”

“Ba, I came home—”

“What use is a man who wears a coat of paint?” Baba asked, referring to Eddie. “He is a veneer with secrets inside.”

I guess it was too much to have hoped that Baba wouldn’t have asked around about who his daughter had married.

Baba raised his index finger. “Let me tell you what success is.”

Monroe gave me a nudge and made a face which sent a message:
Here he goes
.

“It’s what you accomplish over the course of a lifetime,” Baba began. “You get married and you have children. Eventually, they
grow up and take care of you. When you die, your children and grandchildren make offerings to you in the afterworld. Are you going to do that for me?”

“Are you asking, sir, how much money Helen and I will give you each month?” Eddie asked.

Baba stiffened. “All my children give to the family pot. It’s their duty to give and mine to receive. You’ll be living here, and soon I’ll have to feed three of you. It’s tradition—”

“Helen and I don’t follow that old way of thinking,” Eddie interrupted.

“You will, if you want to live with us.”

“We don’t want to live here.” Eddie surveyed the other men at the table—my brothers—and then his eyes came to rest on my father. “I’ll be earning enough for us to move very soon. We’ll still send you money each month out of respect, but we won’t put everything in your family pot.”

We’d see about all that.

RUBY

Wisps of Clouds

A woman isn’t just one thing. The past is in us, constantly changing us. Heartache and failure shift our perspectives as do joy and triumphs. At any moment, on any given day, we can be friends, competitors, or enemies. We can be generous or stingy, loving or petty, helpful or untrustworthy. Looking back, I had plenty of regrets. I’d told myself I was protecting Grace by not telling her about Joe, because I knew how hurt she’d be. I still believed my heart had been in the right place, but how the truth came out and how I handled things that awful night weren’t at all sensitive to Grace’s feelings. I’d been so harsh, trying to teach her a lesson about grown-ups and growing up. But teaching a lesson isn’t a part of friendship. Neither is being cruel. Now, as I sat in the shadows of the Forbidden City’s main room, watching Grace, Helen, and Eddie walk through the lobby and into the kitchen to go to the dressing rooms, I wondered what faces my friends would show me and I would show them. I knew
I
had changed a lot, but what about them?

A few minutes later, they returned to the main room in their costumes. Charlie came out of his office and greeted them like lost children who’d been found—as though bringing them back here had been his idea. My friends took their positions, and the band began to play the Chinese Dancing Sweethearts’ music. The routine’s ending was perfect, with Eddie swirling Helen and Grace, their skirts flowing like wisps of clouds around them.

“I don’t get it,” Charlie said as the last notes died and Helen and Grace came back to their feet.

Eddie tried to be enthusiastic. “It’s great! It’s unique.”

“It’s unique all right. It’s queer, and I don’t like it.” Charlie pressed his chin between a thumb and forefinger. “I’ll keep the married team together. Grace, one of the ponies went to the hospital last night with appendicitis. You can take her place.”

She looked like she’d been slapped, but she didn’t seem to have the will to put up much of a fight.

“I don’t know the routines,” she murmured meekly after a long pause.

“Even on your worst day, you’re a better dancer than my other ponies. And fifty a week is more than you earned when you left.”

“But that’s a lot less than what you said I’d get paid—”

“As one of the Chinese Dancing Sweethearts,” Charlie finished for her. “Now hurry along to the dressing room. One of the girls will show you the costumes.” He pushed his chair away from the table and stood. “It’s great to have the three of you back.”

Eddie refused to surrender. “I choreographed this routine and it’s good.”

Charlie ignored the comment. “Come to my office when you’ve decided what you want to do, and we’ll go over the final details.”

As he walked away, Eddie turned to Helen and Grace. “At least I won’t have to lift you two cows anymore,” he spat out resentfully.

I understood how he felt. Within a few minutes of his return, Eddie’s hopes had been crushed. But it couldn’t have been a breeze for Helen or Grace either. I’d heard that Helen and Eddie were married—what a joke—and she would have to deal with his disappointment, as wives do, while Grace was out on her ear. I’d fought with Charlie about this. I’d made a plan to bring them back to the Forbidden City, he’d implemented it, and it had looked like it was going to work until that damn Lily got sick last night. Charlie asking the Chinese Dancing Sweethearts to show him their dance had been an unnecessarily pitiless ruse.

“Why get Grace’s hopes up when you’re going to put her in the line?” I’d asked.

“I’m the boss here,” he’d reminded me.

Now, instead of being a headliner, Grace was bumped back to a pony. Tough break. The old Grace would have reminded Charlie that she’d been the head of the line, that she had seniority, or
something
, but Los Angeles seemed to have knocked the stuffing out of her.

“You’re not going to be able to dance forever,” I heard Grace say pointedly to Helen. “You should have told Charlie you’re pregnant.”

Eddie a father? That’s a good one
.

Eddie took Helen’s arm and led her to Charlie’s office, leaving Grace alone. I emerged from the shadows, put a peacemaking smile on my face, and tapped her shoulder. Grace turned. For a flash of a second her face lit up, then just as quickly went pale. She folded her arms protectively over her chest.

“Ruby,” she said, her voice flat. “What are you doing here?”

“Dancing, of course.”

We stared at each other, soaking up the subtle changes the last fourteen months had brought. Did I want to weep because I still regretted hurting her, because I was so relieved to see her, or because she was so clearly unhappy to see me?

“I wish you hadn’t left the way you did,” I said. “You never gave me a chance to explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. I saw you and Joe making love. I was childish. I didn’t react well.”

“Grace, I’m so sorry about what happened—”

“We’ll have to talk later,” she said, ignoring my apology. “I have to replace one of the ponies. Will you show me the costumes?”

We pushed through the velvet curtain and into the backstage area. The two of us spoke with false politeness, jumping over weeks and months of details.

“How do you keep your figure? You’re always so slim.”

“Look who’s talking. You’re a knockout, but then you always were.”

We entered the dressing room, and Grace spotted Irene, nursing her kid.

“This is Ronny,” Irene said in greeting.

Grace peeked at the wiggler and made all the predictable cute-baby comments. Ida, the only other original dancer still working as a pony, gave Grace a casual salute. I quickly rattled off the names of the new ponies, but they barely acknowledged Grace.

“You’re replacing Lily.” I showed Grace the clothes rack. “These were her costumes. Now they’re yours. Here’s your first outfit.” I pulled a sequined
cheongsam
hemmed to barely cover a girl’s can off the rack. “As soon as you’ve changed, come visit me.”

When I reached my section of mirror, I glanced at my reflection. My hair was piled on top of my head and my usual pair of white gardenias were pinned above my left ear. My eyes drifted across the glassy surface to see Grace shimmy out of her gown and slip into the costume for the opening number. She checked her makeup, decided it would do, and then came to the far end of the dressing room to where I was getting ready—only I wasn’t putting on clothes. I was taking them off and applying makeup over my arms. I caught Grace’s eyes in the mirror.

“I’m Princess Tai,” I said.

Grace’s mouth opened in a surprised
oh
! How could she still be so slow on the uptake?

“You’re the one who was on the cover of
Life
?
That
Princess Tai?”

“Didn’t you recognize me?”

She shook her head. “We couldn’t see the dancer’s face—”

“That was the idea. To keep the mystery.” I giggled. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? When this place first opened, Charlie wouldn’t hire me. Then he did everything he could to hire me.” I chattered because I was jittery about seeing Grace. “When the exposition reopened, I went back to work at Sally Rand’s. It was touch-and-go there for a while, though. Everyone still thought the exposition could go belly-up for good, but Billy Rose’s Aquacade turned around everyone’s fortunes. Have you heard of it?”

“No.”

“Hand me my eyelashes, will ya? They’re in that little box on the left. See? Thanks. As I was saying, the show starred Johnny Weissmuller. You know, Tarzan in the movies? They also hired this seventeen-year-old girl named Esther Williams. They were a huge hit. People came back to the exposition again and again to see that kid swim. Afterward, they came to the Gayway. Even Charlie came to give it the eyeball.” I turned my head and confided, “The Forbidden City was dying on the vine back then. No one was coming. Here,” I said, holding a sponge out to Grace. “Help me with my backside. Make sure the makeup goes on evenly.”

Grace stared at the sponge. The other girls watched to see what she would do. Ida was frozen in place, probably praying that she’d be released from this task. Bringing tea to the Lim Sisters and doing little chores to make them feel special was fine for them, but I was Princess Tai! I was famous! Another performer might have asked for fresh-cut papaya and pineapple, but again, I was Princess Tai. There aren’t a lot of special benefits in this business, so I took what I could get. Making another girl powder my body and glue a flesh-colored piece of silk over my fun zone seemed just the ticket. It reminded every girl in the room that I was the top-billed star. But why would I ask Grace to perform this job? I’d orchestrated her return to the club, because I missed her
and
I wanted her to see what I’d become. She’d always thought she was the better dancer, but I was a star now. How can you be a star if you don’t act like one and have people love you and take care of you?