poh piah?”
Rachel glanced at the lazy Susan groaning with dozens of little plates of food that seemed completely random and wondered what they were having. “Sure, Auntie Neena. I’m absolutely starving!”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Neena said. “Come, come, let me make you one.” She placed a thin wheat-flour crepe on a gold-rimmed plate and scooped a big serving of meat-and-vegetable filling onto the middle. Next she slathered some sweet hoisin sauce on one side of the crepe and reached for the little dishes, scattering plump prawns, crab meat, fried omelet, shallots, cilantro, minced garlic, chili sauce, and ground peanuts over the filling. She finished this off with another generous drizzle of sweet hoisin and deftly folded the crepe into what looked like an enormous bulging burrito.
“Nah—ziak!” Peik Lin’s mother commanded.
Rachel began inhaling her poh piah ravenously, barely tasting the jicama and Chinese sausage in the filling. It had been a week since she had eaten much of anything.
“See? Look at her smile! There is nothing in the world that good food cannot fix,” Wye Mun said, helping himself to another crepe.
Peik Lin got up from her seat and gave Rachel a big hug from behind. “It’s good to have you back,” she said, her eyes getting moist.
“Thank you. In fact, I really need to thank all of you, from the bottom of my heart, for letting me camp out here for so long,” Rachel added.
“Aiyah, I’m just so happy you’re eating again!” Neena grinned. “Now, time for mango ice-kleam sundaes!”
“Ice cream!” the Goh granddaughters screamed in delight.
“You’ve been through a lot, Rachel Chu. I’m glad we are able to help.” Wye Mun nodded. “You are welcome to stay as long as you like.”
“No, no, I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Rachel smiled sheepishly, wondering how she could have let herself hole up in their guest room for so many days.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?” Peik Lin asked.
“Yeah. I’m going to head back to the States. But first,” she paused, taking a deep breath, “I think I need to go to China. I’ve decided that, for better or for worse, I want to meet my father.”
The whole table went silent for a moment. “What’s the rush?” Peik Lin asked gently.
“I’m already on this side of the globe—why not meet him now?” Rachel said, trying to make it sound like it was no big deal.
“Are you going to go with Nick?” Wye Mun asked.
Rachel’s face darkened. “No, he’s the last person I want to go to China with.”
“You are going to tell him, though?” Peik Lin inquired delicately.
“I might … I haven’t really decided yet. I just don’t want a reenactment of Apocalypse Now. I’ll be in the middle of meeting my father for the first time and next thing you know, one of Nick’s relatives will land in the prison yard in a chopper. I’ll be glad if I never have to see another private jet, yacht, or fancy car for the rest of my life,” Rachel vehemently declared.
“Okay, Papa, cancel the NetJets membership,” Peik Wing wisecracked.
Everyone at the table laughed.
“Nick’s been calling every day, you know,” Peik Lin said. “I’m sure he has.”
“It’s been pretty pathetic,” P.T. reported. “It was four times a day when you first got here, but he tapered off to once a day. He drove up here twice, hoping we might let him come in, but the guards told him he had to move along.”
Rachel’s heart sank. She could imagine how Nick was feeling, but at the same time, she didn’t know how to face him. He had suddenly become a reminder of everything that had gone wrong in her life.
“You should see him,” Wye Mun said gently.
“I disagree, Papa,” Peik Wing’s wife, Sheryl, piped in. “If I were Rachel, I would never want to see Nick or anyone in that evil family again. Who do those people think they are? Trying to ruin people’s lives!”
“Alamak, why make the poor boy suffer? It’s not his fault that his mother is a chao chee bye!” Neena exclaimed. The whole table exploded in laughter, except for Sheryl, who made a face as she covered her daughters’ ears.
“Hiyah, Sheryl, they’re too young to know what it means!” Neena assured her daughter-in-law.
“What does that mean?” Rachel asked.
“Rotten cunt,” P.T. whispered with relish.
“No, no, smelly rotten cunt,” Wye Mun corrected. Everyone roared again, Rachel included.
Recovering herself, Rachel sighed. “I guess I ought to see him.”
Two hours later Rachel and Nick were seated at an umbrella-shaded table by