Sophie Go's Lonely Hearts Club by Roselle Lim

Author:Roselle Lim [Lim, Roselle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2022-08-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Dad’s wide smile made me forget the minus-twenty-four-degree windchill outside. Our dim sum haunt was in the heart of Scarborough at Brimley Road and Sheppard Avenue. The restaurant was sandwiched between an herbal shop and a dentist’s office. Open twenty-four hours, we’d sneaked in here a few times at night after Mom had gone to bed—at Dad’s suggestion, with which I happily complied. It was our secret happy place.

“I ordered three baskets of your favorite already.” He lifted the teapot in the center of the table and filled my cup with jasmine tea. “I also got har gow, phoenix claws, soup dumplings, salted egg congee, and youtiao.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I took my seat and sipped the tea. “How’s your arthritis?”

“It’s much better. Thank you. Your mother mentioned you’re responsible for the sessions.”

He gripped his chopsticks with ease as my tense late-night exchange with Mom faded. He complained it was worse in winter. A twinge of regret passed through me for having protested for even a moment.

“You know what’s coming up soon, yes?”

I had no idea. Between work and research, there’d been no time to fit in anything resembling leisure. My brain scrambled to focus on this time with Dad instead of thinking about clients or worrying about Yanmei.

“I’m sorry, Dad, I’ve been a bit busy. What’s going on?”

He scooped the steaming congee into his bowl. “Your mother’s birthday. It’s a big one, fifty-four.”

Years that didn’t end with a five were big, the rest, special. Those ending in zero, spectacular.

“Right. Has she told you what she wants?”

“Well.” He formed his hands into a steeple and tapped his fingertips against each other. “We were out last weekend in Yorkville. She felt bad about that purse she missed out on, so I took her shopping. She came home with a beautiful limited-edition Coach handbag. It’s much better than the purse. Anyway, she walked into a jewelry store, and she fell in love with a diamond tennis bracelet.”

Of course she had. If Mom walked into a dollar store, she’d find the only item that sold for five. The woman’s gift for finding the most expensive item anywhere was a game Dad and I kept track of. Factoring in the canceled credit card, their finances teetered, toppling, tipping in my direction . . . The mortgage was never paid off; they consolidated their consumer debt into it every two years.

They had tried using a financial adviser, once. Mom and Dad went into the meeting hoping for miracles; they walked out humiliated. The company’s name was now used as a curse.

“How much?”

“Three thousand five hundred. I asked the shop to put it on hold until tomorrow. I had to talk to you first.”

My monthly rent for a bangle. His income went straight into their shared bank account Mom managed. She dispensed a small allowance to him. He couldn’t afford this, but I couldn’t either. I was living off savings that were depleting faster than my work replenished. If I agreed, I would only have four months left instead of six.

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