Chapter 32 Sud
Chapter Thirty-two: Sud
Noi surprised me this morning by telling me he’s going to move his stuff from the apartment he shares with Bua and Peach to my place. He’s been resisting the idea, and I was giving up hope. I can’t help but smile when I think about it.
I’ve spent the morning cleaning the apartment. Noi is out running errands, and then he’s going to go pack.
Around noon, I get a text message from him saying he’s packing, and he’ll text me when he was finished so I can come help him move his stuff.
Half an hour later, I get another text.
My parents are in Bangkok and they called to say they’re coming to pick me up for lunch! What do you think they want?
Since the Somprasongs normally see Noi only once or twice a year, and usually in their home, I’m as confused as Noi is. I tap out a quick text back.
I’ll be right there.
The dots that show Noi’s typing a message appear and disappear on the screen, and I know he’s trying to talk himself into telling me not to come, but I’m already grabbing my keys and wallet. I’m halfway to my car by the time his next text comes through, and I stop in the parking lot to read it.
That’s okay. I can handle it.
Too late. Be there in ten. Don’t leave without me.
The day is dreary and overcast, the sky threatening imminent rain.
Therefore, the traffic is bad as people forego walking or using motosais and take cars and buses instead.
When I get to the apartment building, Noi is pacing the pavement outside.
I park and climb out of my car. As I jog toward him, I spot Somchai and Supaporn Somprasong making their way toward him from the other direction, and I slow down, observing them from a distance.
I’ve never seen them before except in a photo Noi used to have by his bed until he was around nine or ten years old. I never asked him why it disappeared.
His father is only around 179 centimeters tall and has a lithe build like Noi.
His hair is dark and sprinkled with gray, and his expression is stern.
His mother is petite and would be attractive if not for the sour look on her face.
I can’t help but feel grateful that Noi did not have to grow up with them.
How could these two miserable people have created such a wonderful person?
They don’t hug him. Noi’s father shakes hands with Noi as though they are business associates. His mother only nods to him. Anger simmers in my gut, because Noi deserves so much more.
Over the years, every time Noi answered his parents’ summons to visit his childhood home, he came back wearing a cloak of sadness that lasted for days.
Pah always drove him there but was never invited inside.
Although he knew Noi could be there for hours, he never left, afraid Noi might need him.
When they would return home, I always rushed outside to meet them, and Pah would quietly instruct me to give Noi a little time before talking to him.
Hours later, as I sat reading or doing homework on my bed, Noi would come quietly into my room and curl up beside me.
He never talked about the visits to his parents’ house. Sensing he needed affection, I drowned him in it, wanting to make up for what he never got from them. Now, with the confirmation of how they are with him right before my eyes, I’m glad I did that.
Despite what I suspected all along, I’ve held a seed of hope that maybe one day Noi’s parents would come around—realize their mistake in not being involved in his life and wish to make amends. But, standing here, watching them treat their son like a virtual stranger, I know that will never happen.
Determined to shield him as best I can, I move forward. He’s wearing his navy dress pants with a white button-down shirt, and he’s slicked his hair back. He looks as though he’s going to a job interview rather than lunch with his parents, and that makes my heart ache even more.
His face lights up when he catches sight of me, and that strengthens my resolve not to leave him alone with them. I’m no longer a kid. The Somprasongs will have to go through me to get to Noi.
Giving the two elders a stiff wai, I stand beside Noi, close enough to clearly relay that I am there for him.
“Sud,” Noi’s mother says, somehow managing to look straight down her nose at me even though she’s much shorter, “what a nice surprise.” Her tone sounds more like she means the opposite. “We didn’t expect to see you.”
I’m a little surprised she recognizes me. To my knowledge, we’ve never met. They probably spy on Noi via social media.
Noi takes a step closer to me, and I put my arm around his shoulder. Letting Noi’s parents know about us may cause trouble, but I really don’t care. Noi needs me.
Noi’s father’s eyes narrow and his mouth turns down.
“Not to be rude,” Supaporn Somprasong says, “but we hoped to have some time alone with our son.”
Noi’s clutching the back of my shirt like he’s afraid I’ll leave. As if I would leave him with these vipers now that I have a choice.
“Noi and I have a lunch date, but since you two are here, you are welcome to come with us,” I say.
His parents look irritated, but his mother just huffs and suggests a restaurant nearby. A very expensive restaurant. Fortunately, Pah replenished my school bank account recently because no way would I ever admit to these people that I couldn’t pay for both me and Noi.
Noi and I don’t accept the offer to ride with them, which gives us a few moments in my car alone before reaching the restaurant.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “We’ll eat and make an excuse to get away.”
Noi nods, his face pinched and pale. “Thanks for coming. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“Everything’s going to be okay. You’re nineteen years old. In seven months, you’ll legally be an adult. They’re losing their grip on you.”
Noi nods. “Sometimes I wish they’d just disappear. That’s awful, isn’t it?”
I shake my head. “No. You have every right to resent them, and it isn’t like you’re wishing them dead. You just don’t want to have to see them or deal with them.”
Noi relaxes, slumping in his seat. “Yeah. That’s exactly it.”
I have trouble finding a parking space and wind up leaving the car several blocks away from the restaurant. By the time we walk inside, the Somprasongs are seated and drinking martinis. They don’t look happy at having to wait for us.
The waiter has barely stepped away from the table after getting our food orders when Noi’s father begins questioning him about his grades. No, “How are things going? Have you made a lot of friends?” Just straight to what kind of marks he made. I want to punch his cold, emotionless face.
After Noi reports his straight As, Somchai shares a look with his wife.
“Your mother and I have been discussing your future, Mee Noi,” he says, turning his attention back to his son. I might as well not be there at all for the attention the two of them pay me.
Noi goes tense in the chair beside me, and, under the table, I slide my hand onto his thigh.
“We’re transferring you to a university in Munich. We thought it would take another semester to get you in, but we were notified yesterday that they will take you. The school here has agreed to give us a partial refund on what we’ve paid.”
Stunned, I look at Noi. His face is as white as his shirt.
“W-what?” he says.
Obviously annoyed at having to repeat himself, Somchai says, “I said you’ll be going to school in Munich. Your mother and I are here to pack you up and take you there. We have booked a flight for tomorrow afternoon.”
Anxiety makes my stomach clench. They can’t take Noi to Germany! Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I start texting Pah.
People chat and eat around us while an uncomfortable silence settles over our table. The waiter returns with our food and, reading the room, quietly leaves again.
“I like this university,” Noi says. “I like Bangkok. I don’t want to live in Germany. I’m not going to.” His voice strengthens with each statement.
I’m so proud of him, I want to stand up and pump my fist in the air. Instead, I return my hand to his thigh and squeeze it in approval.
“You don’t have a choice,” Noi’s father says sternly. “We’re your parents and we pay for your schooling. The business program at the university in Munich is much more suitable than this one, and, when you graduate, you can work for me.”
Under my palm, the muscles of Noi’s thigh tense.
“You just want to get me away from my friends,” he accuses. “You know I like this university, and you know I consider the Chanthaphans my family. You hate that because you want to hurt me. And you know that being away from them and spending my life working for you will make me miserable!”
I feel sure that’s the most Noi has ever said at once to his parents. Their stunned expressions tell me I’m right.
“You ungrateful brat,” Noi’s mother says sharply. “Your father and I have always done what’s best for you.”
Pah is texting me back, asking for more information, and I’m trying to give it to him while still following the conversation at the table. Consequently, my texts are short and full of typos.
“So, leaving me with strangers when I was a little kid was the best thing for me?” Noi asks.
“Granted, being with the Chanthaphans turned out to be wonderful, but you didn’t know that was going to happen.
They could have beaten me for all you knew or cared.
You dumped me with them because you didn’t want me around. ”
Mee Noi’s father looks apoplectic. “That is enough, Wichai,” he growls, using Noi’s formal name. “We are your parents, and you will respect and obey us.”