Chapter 5 #3
Unless the solution is your continued guidance, I am not interested, Roses seethed.
I think it is better, actually, was the reply. I would like to send to you my most talented pupil, so that he may advise you in person for as long as you need. He is currently
based in London, but I trust he can fly over to Los Angeles with very little notice.
Your pupil? Roses questioned, undermined by her own curiosity. But who is he? Does he share your gift?
She heard Master Chu chuckle. He is quite capable of representing himself and his abilities, so I will let him do just that when you meet him. But I can
assure you, Mrs. Sun, that while his methods are somewhat different than mine, my pupil surpasses me in ways that I believe
will be most helpful to you and your family.
Outside her bathroom door, Roses heard her husband, Teddy, knocking timidly. “Rosie, everything okay in there? It’s been eight
hours.”
Ignoring him, Roses shrugged at her blank screen. I suppose I have no choice, Master Chu. Please have this pupil of yours travel to Los Angeles as soon as possible. I mean
to tell Wayward’s mother about our plans this Friday.
Like a beacon of hope, the screen suddenly lit back to life, displaying Master Chu again as he gave her a toothy, reassuring
smile.
You will not be disappointed, Mrs. Sun. I promise you that.
Before walking in on Wayward and Cristiano’s workout, Iris had been sitting in her parked Cadillac a block away from her son’s
town house, anxiously stalling. Other than uncomfortable greetings at obligatory family gatherings, the estranged mother and
son had not had a true conversation in a very long time. But fortified by her pact with April to thwart Roses’s machinations,
Iris was determined to finally break the embargo tonight, once and for all.
To be fair, Iris had tried reaching out to Wayward numerous times over the years. But among the many admirable traits she had passed to her high-achieving son, she had also given him her obstinate stubbornness. Simply put, Wayward refused to forgive her.
Iris Sun-Kwok was scared. She knew she had raised a good and decent man, but Wayward had a way of cutting her down that she
felt was undeserved. What a marked difference it was from the way they were when he was younger.
Iris, Wayward, and her movie producer husband, Godfrey Kwok, had once been the picture-perfect family, back when Wayward was
a child. Yes, Iris had always been admonished by her sisters that she was too close, too hovering over young Wayward, but
he had loved her back just as much then, and what sort of mother would deny her son those returned affections?
Yet as Wayward grew older and started displaying more effete mannerisms, his old-school-machismo father Godfrey had been horrified.
Her husband blamed Iris for their son’s delicate manner, and Iris in response became overprotective of Wayward, pushing Godfrey
away. Her husband strayed further and further away from their home, eventually leaving them altogether to move to Beijing
right before Wayward went to college. To save face and try to preserve a semblance of a home, Iris never divorced him. But
that had been a mistake, because even from afar, Godfrey Kwok managed to hurt her.
Iris found out when she had tried to pay the last installment of Wayward’s tuition at Occidental College—something was wrong
with her finances. Creditors were calling her, demanding payments for loans she had never heard of. It was then she discovered
that Godfrey had borrowed vast amounts of money against her inheritance to fund his filmmaking aspirations abroad, most of
which failed as badly as their marriage. Her son only found out because Godfrey had even attempted to borrow under Wayward’s
name!
Iris’s financial standing had never recovered, despite being the daughter of the billionaire Big Boss Sun.
Even as she flew around the world on her self-funded quest, tirelessly searching for what she had lost, she could barely afford economy tickets.
Perhaps she could have asked her siblings for help, but that was not in Iris’s nature. The middle sister was simply too proud.
First abandoned, then betrayed, Iris and Wayward should have grown closer. But sadly, Godfrey was only the first of many tragedies
for the mother and son.
Shaking away her painful memories, Iris got out of her car and walked down the street toward her son’s place.
As she approached, she heard the clanking of metal and the grunts of men. It seemed that Wayward had company. When she got
to his open garage, she cautiously peered inside and saw April’s husband, Cristiano, first.
“Mom?”
She turned to Wayward, who was wiping his brow with a shirt. The look on his face was so hurtful. He was staring at her like
she was an unwelcome intruder, a random transient from the streets.
“What are you doing here, Mom?”
Wayward did not mean to ask the question so harshly, but he had had enough surprises for the week. Besides, what sort of person
showed up at someone’s home without texting first?
Cristiano looked back and forth between Wayward and his mother, and quickly got the cue. “I should be heading back home if
I’m gonna tuck Meadow in,” he said, though he was wondering if his call to Iris on Sunday had somehow precipitated this most
unexpected visit. Iris didn’t make eye contact with him as he packed his things, so he waved a bewildered goodbye to Wayward
before exiting the garage and disappearing around the corner.
Wayward and Iris both shifted uncomfortably as they searched for words.
“Can I get you anything?” Wayward finally asked.
Iris sat down on his workout bench, clutching her purse. “No, that’s all right. I was in the neighborhood and I’d never seen
your place, so I thought I might stop by and say hello.”
Wayward leaned against the wall next to him. “You know, Mom, I’ve lived here for three years.”
Iris flinched. Already he was so cold. “And that’s my fault for not visiting, but I am here now,” she said gently.
“Welcome, I guess,” Wayward said, still suspicious. More than anyone, he knew how his mother worked, and he could guess why
she was here. His mother always managed to find out about everything. Clearly, his Aunt Roses had sent Iris to do her bidding.
“How are things with that boy?” Iris asked. She knew his name of course, but Wayward was often touchy when she brought up
his personal life, and she did not want to offend.
“His name is Jamaal,” Wayward retorted, offended. “You’ve met him many times.”
“Of course, Jamaal.” Iris nodded. “How is he?”
“No idea. He doesn’t live here anymore. We broke up months ago.” Wayward crossed his arms.
“That’s too bad, he was nice.”
Wayward shook his head, exasperated with her already. “I’m surprised you’re able to reach that conclusion. You probably spoke
a couple sentences to him, ever.”
This was not going well. Iris decided to get to the point. “Weiwei,” she said carefully, “I understand that your Auntie Roses
may have come to you with a request . . .”
Wayward suddenly laughed, a loud bark. He had guessed correctly. Wow, his mother was shameless. All this time she had avoided
him, but now when her big sister needed something, Iris was happy to play henchman.
“Yes, we had an interesting conversation,” he said stiffly. “But I don’t know what it has to do with you.”
Iris felt a surge of indignation. At that moment, she hated her big sister, thinking how disappointed in them their father would’ve been if he were still alive.
“I am your mother,” Iris said, her tone finally sharpened. “Of course it has something to do with me. I know it is easy to
give your Auntie Roses all the credit—”
“Motherhood is just a label,” Wayward interrupted, “and it means nothing if you don’t act like one. Where have you been, Mom,
all these years? Roses is not perfect, but at least she believes in me. She took me under her wing while you’ve barely given
me your shoulder. She helped me make something of myself while you have been missing in action. I don’t know what the hell
you two are planning now, but you are not needed in this equation. I will talk to Roses myself.”
Wayward rubbed his tired eyes, his face aflame from his rant. He still had not managed to sleep, and Lola had never returned
his text. He just wanted to be left alone now.
Iris was shattered. Wayward was right; she had not been there for him, not directly. But Iris had looked on with pride when
Wayward first joined the family company, and she had served as a shadow counsel to Roses as the two women strategized how
best to navigate and accelerate her son’s success at Sunfang Global the past four years. Yet Iris had also known that for
Wayward to have Roses’s undivided favor meant that she needed to take a step back, giving the CEO of Sunfang Global all the
credit for mentoring him. That was what motherhood meant to Iris, even if Wayward had a different definition.
To Iris, motherhood was quiet sacrifice. It was all she knew.
Faced with his mother’s silence, Wayward pressed again. “It’s not a rhetorical question, Mom. Where have you been all these
years? Why are you always traveling? Why are you never home? Why are you never here? Even when I was in rehab, you were gone
most of the time.”
Iris faltered. “I . . .” She did not know how to answer.
Wayward crossed his arms. “Everyone else says you’re jet-setting around the world for fun.
But I don’t believe it. That’s not like you.
You’ve never been a frivolous or self-indulgent person.
And what’s more, each time you come back from one of your mystery trips, you seem hopeless and unhappy.
I used to think that you were running away from me. Is that it?”
Iris shook her head. “No, of course not!”
Wayward tilted his head, his eyes lighting up in revelation. “You’re looking for something, aren’t you?”
Iris opened her mouth to speak, but she could not tell him the truth. She was too ashamed.
Wayward groaned as he put his face in his hands. “We used to talk about everything together. But it’s fine, keep your secrets,
Mom. I really don’t want to fight with you. I’m just really tired. Please . . . just don’t get involved.”
“I understand, Weiwei,” was all she could manage to say. She was not going to burden her son by telling him her truth. He
deserved better than that. She would deal with Roses herself.
Without saying goodbye, Wayward walked into his town house, slamming the door behind him.
Weeping, Iris slowly walked back to her car.
But this time, she was not going to retreat. Despite everything, she had hope.
Iris hoped that if this mess was still salvageable, if it could still work out the way she had planned, that Wayward would
never have a child who looked at him the way he did her.