Girl in Translation (29 page)

I pulled away to answer. “I wish I were. That’s my dream: a satisfying career, with a nice husband, in a clean home, a kid or two. To achieve that, that would be extraordinary enough for me.”

“I’ll come visit you in the suburbs, then.”

A month later, Annette’s mother invited me to her office. As the thick glass door shut behind me, I felt out of place in my shoddy jacket. I saw Mrs. Avery at her desk and there was a woman in a camel-colored suit sitting in front of her. Mrs. Avery looked up and smiled at me, then gestured for me to take a seat in the large waiting area.

Finally, it was my turn. Mrs. Avery stood up and shook hands with me as if I were a grown-up. She didn’t ask where my mother was.

“So I may have something for you. It’s in Queens, in quite a green area.”

My heart beat a little faster. In New York in those days, most Chinese immigrants lived in Chinatown, a few were scattered in places like Brooklyn like us, and the ones that really became successful moved to Queens. It was considered to be even nicer than Staten Island, where Aunt Paula lived.

Mrs. Avery continued. “I don’t normally get apartments at such a price, but I’ll be honest with you, the place has been rented for a long time so it’s not in optimal condition. Most of my other clients wouldn’t even want to see it.”

I began to get worried. “Does it have heat?”

She looked startled. “Do you mean central heating?”

“Yes, does it have radiators that work?”

“Of course it does. I mean, don’t worry, the heat works great.” She blinked and hurried on. “It comes fully furnished, with all of the normal appliances: washing machine, dryer, refrigerator, oven, you name it.”

A washing machine and dryer in your own apartment! We would no longer have to wash everything by hand and hang our clothes out to dry. The simple idea of a warm, heated apartment was like heaven to me. I knew I was giving myself away with my questions but I had to know before I could be disappointed again. “Are there insects in the apartment?”

She didn’t flinch this time. She was prepared. “You mean like ants and roaches? No.”

“Rats?”

“No.”

“Then why did you say it was not in optimal condition?”

“Well, it’s not very big. And the paint’s peeling off the wall in a few places-not a lot, you understand, just a bit-and the carpet is wearing thin. That kind of thing.”

“That’s okay.” I couldn’t believe how good it sounded, but I still braced myself for disappointment. Now came the crucial question. “How much is the rent?”

She wrote it down for me on a piece of paper. To my surprise, it wasn’t much more than what we were already paying if you included the amount we’d had to put in each month to pay off our plane tickets and visas for Aunt Paula, plus the interest she’d added. I was glad we’d just paid off our debt to her a few months before. My face must have brightened, because Mrs. Avery raised a warning finger.

“Wait, Kimberly. It’s not that easy. They want to make sure that the new renters are reliable people. They want a deposit and some paperwork. We’ll need a salary slip or some proof of employment, and a character reference.”

My mind ticked away. For the first time, Ma and I had a bit of financial breathing room, especially with the extra hours I was working at the library. We’d be able to manage the deposit if we were given a bit more time. But where would we get the reference?

As if she’d read my mind, Mrs. Avery said, “Maybe one of your teachers at school could write you the character reference?”

“They’ve never even met my mother.”

“That’s true. Let me think about it, but I’m sure we can work that out.”

“We have some money in savings, but it will be easier if we have a few more weeks to finish saving the money for the deposit. Also, the salary slip, well, it’s not very much.”

“That’s okay. They just want to make sure that your mother can work, that’s all. Maybe you could also include your own salary slip from your work at school. If they see from your character reference that you’re dependable people, that will be enough.”

“Will someone else get the apartment before we do?”

“I’ll talk to the owners and tell them I have someone very reliable in mind for it.”

“I will give you the salary slips and other paperwork as soon as possible, so they know we are serious.”

When I told Ma later that evening, her entire face glowed. “Ah-Kim, another place to live!”

We had been trapped in that apartment for so long that we’d stopped daring to dream of fleeing. But our escape still relied on getting that character reference for Ma.

It was March, and Curt and I had taken to holding hands in public. I felt safe with him, knowing that he wasn’t going to demand anything from me I didn’t want to give. I don’t know how things might have progressed with us, taking step after step down the road of love, or at least acting as if we were, if events hadn’t unfolded as they did.

We’d just left Milton Hall together. Curt had stolen one of my pens and I was trying to get it back from him. I had him by the arm and was playfully batting him on the shoulder when I caught sight of a tall figure standing in front of the shrubbery of the main hall.

“Matt.” I couldn’t imagine what he would be doing here at Harrison. He was as poorly dressed as usual, in workman’s slacks and a thin wrinkled jacket, but girls walking by still turned their heads at the way he stood there, proud as a young dragon.

Matt had seen us by now and the shock in his eyes was swiftly eclipsed by pain and jealousy. He shook his head as if to clear his vision and then strode away as fast as he could. At first, I felt sorrow at his hurt, then anger because I knew exactly what that pang felt like, had felt it every day.

Curt too had frozen. “Now I get it.”

“I have to go,” I said, and without a backward glance, I hurried after Matt.

It was raining and I almost slipped on the slick sidewalk as I chased him. I could just make him out through the rain, a blur in the distance, but then he grew closer and closer until I realized he’d turned around and was now coming toward me.

Then his hands were on my elbows and he gripped me, hard. “That your boyfriend?” he yelled.

“What about your girlfriend?” I screamed back. My hair and face were soaked.

He stopped moving, then seemed to deflate. He let me go. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m made of stupid material.”

I saw then that his face was wet not only from the rain. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot. He’d been crying.

“Did you and Vivian break up?” I asked, more gently.

“My mother died,” he said. He gave a hopeless little shrug.

I took him by the hand and I led him into my arms. He bowed his head and started to weep, great shuddering sobs. I held him like that, on the sidewalk of the Harrison Prep campus, and let the rain come down.

Then I got us both into the subway and took him home with me.

We hardly said a word to each other until we arrived at my apartment. We were filled with so much emotion that there was nothing but complete recklessness left to us. His quick eyes took in the garbage bags over the windows, the roaches on the countertop and the plaster falling off the walls. If anything, the apartment was in even worse shape than it had been in when we moved there, because it was now seven years older. It still held the chill of winter. Our clothes were wet and I got the two thin towels from the bathroom.

I handed one to Matt, but instead of starting to dry himself off, he took it and wiped it gently over my face. I stood there, motionless, while he lifted my hair and dried the base of my neck with the towel. He unzipped my jacket and pushed it off my shoulders. It fell on the floor.

His lips were all I could look at, and I abruptly disengaged myself and started walking toward the kitchen.

“I better find another towel,” I said, knowing we didn’t have any other towels.

But he’d caught me by my sleeve and his hands were pulling me back. I closed my eyes. I felt his arms go around me and before I knew it, his hands were under my shirt, stroking and tantalizing. He kissed me and I stopped breathing. He was filled with need, he seemed unable to control himself.

“Please,” I whispered. “Wait.”

He already had my shirt off. We fell back on the pile of stuffed-animal blankets. He pinned me to the mattress, his weight was delicious, and now he was moving his lips against mine, agonizing and luscious, the brush of stubble against my temples, the sweep of his hair. I felt I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move, I was his and he was mine. I could feel the heat of him burning through his wet clothes. He was a man possessed, by grief and passion together.

Finally, I made myself say, very clearly, “We have to use a condom.” With some embarrassment, he regained control of himself. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then said, “I have a couple in my wallet.”

“Let’s use two,” I said. “Just to be sure.”

“Okay.”

But once he started to kiss me again, the taste and smell of him overwhelmed me and I became frantic to get his clothes off too. I felt hypnotized, as if I were in a dream, and I kept thinking, This is Matt, he’s mine now, mine, at last. I looked at him up close and he was more beautiful than I’d ever imagined, the shimmer of his lashes, the thin white scar that ran across his collarbone, the darkened hollow of his throat. Despite all of my experimentation, I’d never been naked with a man before, and Matt’s skin felt warm and rough. He must have taken care of the condoms somehow and then suddenly he was inside me. I gasped, but it hadn’t hurt as much as I’d expected it to and then I couldn’t think at all anymore.

When he finally came, he started to cry again. I held him tenderly in my arms. We lay there together, both breathing hard, returning to ourselves.

“I have to take care of Park now,” he said. “The view in front is very foggy.” He was talking about how unpredictable their future was now.

“You’ll be all right,” I said. I had his hand in both of mine and I squeezed it. “What about your pa? Is he going to-”

“No.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know.” He laughed a little to himself, bitterly. “My heart is so wounded that I’m vomiting blood. And he disappears, as usual, with another new girlfriend. My whole life, he’s never been around, never helped my ma out. I always had to be the man of the family, for Park, for Ma.” His voice cracked. “I can tell you, I am never going to be like him. I’ll be there for my own wife and kids through everything.”

That reminded me of his other responsibility. Although it jabbed my heart, I tried to sound nonchalant. “What about Vivian?”

“I never even told her he was alive.”

“No. I meant, what about Vivian and you?”

He gently stroked my temple. “No more Vivian. The moment Ma collapsed from her heart attack, I immediately knew that all I wanted was you. I had to see you. It’s always been you.”

I couldn’t keep the resentment from my voice. “It seemed to be Vivian for a long time.”

He turned away from me and stared at the cracked ceiling. “It was nice not to be treated like I had chicken pox for a change.”

I said stiffly, “That was only because I liked you.”

Now, in profile, I saw him smile. “Really? Sometimes I allowed myself to believe that. But all you did after we… umm, you know, in the bathroom that time… was ignore me.”

“You had a girlfriend, remember?”

“Well, it didn’t really help me get less confused. I’m not like you, Kimberly. I’m just a stupid guy. I’m not some hero from a kung fu movie come to save you from your life.”

“You don’t need to rescue us. I’m going to do it.”

He laughed. “I know, and you will too. Hey, and what about that wave-player you were with?” He meant the playboy, someone who frolics in the waves. At this, his nostrils flared. “If you let him touch you again, I’m going to twist his head all the way around.”

“Let’s keep things simple,” I said. “Just the two of us from now on.”

After he’d gone and I was trying to get the stains out of the blankets so Ma wouldn’t suspect anything when she came home, I stopped short, my hands flying to my mouth. There were the condoms. I should have known. The two condoms had rubbed against each other and they’d both torn. What a stupid idea of mine it’d been. Neither of us had even noticed.

THIRTEEN

Ma and I had been waiting for the decisions from the colleges to come, so we weren’t surprised when Aunt Paula called us into her office again. Her face was still and white underneath the foundation and powder. On the table in front of her were two fat envelopes from Yale. I stopped breathing for a moment. A rejection letter would be thin. One white business envelope was stuffed with documents and it was accompanied by a large yellow manila envelope, also from Yale.

“How is this possible?” Aunt Paula asked quietly.

“What?” Ma and I asked together.

“That Kimberly applied to Yeah-loo without my knowledge and permission.” “Yeah-loo” is the Cantonese pronunciation of “Yale.”

“Your permission?” I echoed, incredulous.

“I signed a legal document guaranteeing the both of you when I brought you here. I am responsible for you, and you are living in one of my apartments and working at my factory. You are not supposed to take one step without telling me.”

Despite my resolve to stay calm, my voice sounded furious. “Are you saying that you would have helped me if you’d known? Like you would have helped me with Harrison?”

“Of course! Everything I do is in your best interest.”

Ma tried to calm us both down. “Older sister, we don’t even know if Kimberly got in or not. Let’s not get overwrought.”

“Open that letter,” Aunt Paula said.

I would have defied her but I was desperate to know what was in it as well. I slit open the white business envelope. It contained a few forms and a cover letter. I read the letter aloud, simultaneously translating it into Chinese for Ma. My voice had a quaver in it. “ ‘Congratulations. You have been accepted…’ ”

Ma sat down abruptly in the chair across from Aunt Paula.

“You cannot go to Yeah-loo! I do not allow it!” Aunt Paula burst out.