Loveboat Forever by Abigail Hing Wen

Author:Abigail Hing Wen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-10-13T00:00:00+00:00

17

Sunday mornings are quieter on campus. I wait for Kai in the lobby by his zodiac display. We’re beginning week three of the program, but he still has a small crowd of people admiring the golden horse. I can’t help feeling impressed again how he arranged for all of this. I trace my finger over a little plaque displaying the National Palace Museum logo.

But ten minutes pass, and no Kai.

I find his number in the directory and text him. Hey, just making sure I got the time right?

I frown at my phone, waiting for him to answer. I’m sure I have the time right. He offered to help but then again, it was on a whim. He’s so unpredictable: sometimes mad, moody, normal, exuberant. I understand why now, more so, but can I rely on him? Maybe I should I just go without him . . . but he’s the one who called the National Palace Museum, and I wouldn’t even know where to begin. This search could take months. I only have weeks left.

“Pearl, hey! Sorry I’m late.”

He’s coming from the elevators, dressed in a soft blue shirt over red-checkered shorts. My insides are so knotted up that my stomach actually, physically hurts. I’m surprised at myself. I don’t want to be like this, all dependent on him. Seriously.

“Hey. There you are.” I nod briefly and fall into place, moving toward the door. I pull out the pork buns I grabbed from the dining hall and offer him one, then bite into the other. He looks different somehow. Not just his funky shorts.

We pass through the electronic doors at the same time, brushing up against each other. His cheeks pink a bit, but this time he doesn’t freak out.

“Your hair,” I say, placing the difference. It’s tidy. Still heavy but slicked back neatly behind his ears. Probably not easy to maintain.

He scowls. “You told me to comb it . . . so I did.”

His voice warns me not to laugh, so I press my lips together. His clothes have a little extra sharpness to them today, like maybe they were ironed.

“Is your hair why you’re late?” I blurt.

He opens his mouth like he’s going to protest, but then he shuts it. “Sort of,” he says sheepishly. And then I do laugh.

We start up the driveway. “I looked up your great-grandmother,” Kai says. “I wanted to make sure we were on the right track. It’s helpful she had some notoriety. So she has more of a paper trail.”

Notoriety. So she had it, too, the benefits and pitfalls. But the language of the paper trail is all Chinese, more reason why I’m dependent on Kai.

“What did you find out?” I ask.

“Like your mom said, she was a rising star in Shanghai. She played pipa with the Shanghai Symphony Orchestra.”

I glow. “Amazing. I wish we had recordings.”

“One thing though,” Kai says. “She was a Tan, and her husband, your great-grandfather, was a Lim, but I thought they were on your mom’s side?”

“Right. I don’t actually know his name myself,” I confess.

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