Dreams of Joy - Lisa See [91]
“In Shanghai—”
“Right, Shanghai. Well, I’ve been there. I prefer Green Dragon Village.”
“You mean the Dandelion Number Eight People’s Commune,” she corrects me, but to what end? Then, “Your skin has always been as translucent as rice milk. Do you want to ruin your fortune?”
Is she speaking for May when she asks that question? I don’t know, but I answer, “I was here before, and my skin was fine.”
“You’re still young, and you were here only a few weeks. Think what a year, a lifetime, will do to you. An inch of gold won’t buy an inch of time.”
“I don’t care about things like that. I’m not Auntie May.”
“But you’re as stubborn as she is,” she responds. “If you stay here, you’ll be living from dirt to mouth.”
“You’ve always been prejudiced against country people and the countryside.”
My mother doesn’t deny that.
“What about the special coupons you collect as an Overseas Chinese?” she asks. “And the special treatment you’ve received as Z.G.’s daughter?”
“I don’t want special treatment,” I respond. “I want to be a real Chinese, not an Overseas Chinese. And I don’t need special coupons either. I’ll have all the food I could ever want. We grow it here.”
“The only reason Tao wants to marry you is that he yearns to leave the village,” Z.G. suddenly injects. “He may look like a bumpkin, but he’s ambitious. He wants to go to Shanghai, to Peking. But that’s not going to work.”
“I know. You told me yourself that he can’t leave the village, and neither can I, if I marry him. What you don’t understand is that I want to stay here. I love Tao.”
My mother leans forward. A small, knowing—all right, I’ll say it, malicious—smile plays on her lips. “Isn’t the real problem that you’re pregnant?”
Pearl
RIDING A FLOWERED PALANQUIN
I SHOULDN’T HAVE said that. I told myself I was going to be different on this trip. I told myself that coming out here was an opportunity to reclaim my daughter and to spend time with Z.G. I told myself I would be agreeable, not pick any arguments, and show Joy that I could see her side and give whatever she’s looking for a chance. I know all the things I should and shouldn’t have done, but those words just popped out of my mouth, because what Joy wants to do is unacceptable. I’ve tried hard these past few days—no, these past months—to be alert and vigilant when speaking to my daughter so I wouldn’t hurt her feelings or drive her away. Just now I tried to guide her with questions to help her see her mistake. I never should have let her glimpse what I really thought or felt. Like all mothers, I needed to hide my sadness, anger, and grief, but what I thought—she must have gotten pregnant (just like her mother)—sneaked right out of my mouth.
“Of course I’m not pregnant,” Joy says, her eyes flashing. “How could I be pregnant? We’ve only been here a week.”
“A woman can know—”
“But I haven’t done anything like that!”
That’s something anyway, I think but don’t say. Instead, I ask, “But marriage, Joy? Why?”
“Because we love each other.”
And she does love him. I see it in her eyes. I hear it in her voice. In fact, I’ve known since the first time she said Tao’s name back in Shanghai, but that doesn’t mean marriage is a good idea. My life has been filled with bad choices, and I’ve been living with the consequences for too long. I can’t bear another heartbreak, and I burn with the shame of having failed as a mother. I take a deep breath, hoping that an angel will sit on my shoulder and settle me into the mother I should be. Z.G. isn’t helping, that’s for sure. I guess that’s to be expected. Yes, it’s been nice having him sleep in the room next to mine. I’ve been comforted hearing the weight of his footsteps, his whistling when he thinks no one is listening, his deep sighs, the sloughing and dropping of his clothes as he gets undressed, and his belching and other man sounds, but I know that a Rabbit will never go all out for you, defend