15 Adam
15 Adam
Hu ? , Vi ? t Nam
Two sleepless, sheet-rustling nights and as many mornings of awkward eye avoidance later, Adam finds himself walking across
the Meridian Gate to the Imperial City of Hu ? . He lags behind the group to take in the majestic sprawl of the Citadel in its full glory. His breath catches in his throat
as he scans the palaces and shrines, the tucked-in villas for the mandarins of yore.
Modeled after Beijing’s Forbidden City, the Imperial City looks onto the Perfume River, where the royals once surveyed their
vast riches, the forested mountains situated just beyond. The river flows into the moat surrounding the palace complex, clear
and still in the morning. Though the Imperial City was burned and destroyed during the many conflicts of the latter half of
the twentieth century, it rises still with a dignified grandeur that can make a Vietnamese national’s heart ache. Including
Adam’s own.
Why has it taken him so long to see this? He has all the money he could want. Surely he could have carved out the time for
a glimpse of his homeland. But he’s been too busy chasing other things. Wishing he were elsewhere on the ladder of success.
So many wasted years.
He looks around, hoping for a shared glance with Evie, but she’s far ahead, walking arm in arm with Fen and Talia. But why does he want to share this with her? What is it about her—besides the simmering lust she seems to evoke—that makes him want
to follow her around like a lovesick puppy? Adam feels a rush of antipathy at that word: lovesick . He doesn’t do lovesick. Romance is for the weak and easily influenced. And he’s always understood that love isn’t meant to be a great burst of fireworks. Nausea or roiling emotions, bad choices in the dim hours of night. It’s supposed to be slow and steady and safe . A rational, determined partnership above all else. Like what his parents have. Like what he thought he had with Lana.
In the rush of the crowd, he must run to catch up. Most everyone is dressed conservatively, since entry to some sites in the
Imperial City requires covered shoulders and knees. Fen keeps trying to roll up the cuffs of her knee-length shorts—bought
at the last minute for this excursion—though a glare from Ruby usually quells her attempt for at least a minute or two.
Adam feels a rush of affection as he sees the small groups chatting. The tour is halfway over, and it seems to be working
like a dream. Couples are sneaking kisses or holding hands, shy and hopeful in the first flush of affection. He’s taken many
candid photos, considering the best ways to market this tour with video interviews and testimonies afterward.
Despite his earlier skepticism, he can admit that Ruby was right. She and the matchmakers know what they’re doing. They are
creating the circumstances for some truly epic love stories—or at least, the beginnings of something more exciting than what
each guest might have lucked into on their own. It’s not a perfect formula, but it’s one worth investing in. He’s proud to
have been a part of Ruby’s vision.
And beyond the newly emerging relationships, there are fast, if surprising, friendships forming. Evie is helping Talia drape
a shawl around her shoulders, flinging it with rakish verve.
“Now you’re ready to wed an emperor,” Evie says.
Talia laughs. “I don’t think I’ll be marrying into royalty anytime soon. You , however. Aren’t you dating some English duke?”
Adam stops in his tracks, halting the line of traffic behind him. What’s wrong with his eyes? He only sees red. His line of
vision narrows on her, and her alone. She’s dating someone? A fucking duke? And she’s got the audacity to go on a matchmaking tour?
Evie quickly corrects her friend. “No, girl. I said he thinks he’s an English duke. He’s a literature professor at the college where I taught.”
“Dreamy.”
“And I’m definitely not dating him.”
Adam’s blood pressure goes down. Then shoots back up when Fen teases Evie, “Sure you’re not. That’s why he’s blowing up your
text messages even when he’s on the other side of the world and it’s midnight his time? With photos of his lordly penis?”
Adam bites back his scowl. The thought of another man filling her phone with lewd photos makes him want to throw it into the
Perfume River, like some hulking caveman.
“They’re all library pictures!” Evie swears, lifting her arms with a laugh.
Library pictures. Some English professor who apparently has zero boundaries when it comes to text messaging. Adam is so annoyed
that he can barely speak as he brushes past the women at the arched gates. He doesn’t even apologize when he knocks into Fen’s
elbow.
“Excuse you,” Evie says.
He gives her a withering glare. “ Some of us are here to see the sights, not gossip all day long.”
“What’s up his ass?” Fen mutters behind him.
He doesn’t stop to listen to the rest as he catches up to the tour guide, who describes the thoughtful layout of the palace,
designed to align with the Five Cardinal Points, Five Elements, and Five Colors. There’s a soothing symmetry and rationality
to all this beauty that cools Adam’s rising blood. He likes knowing exactly what to expect.
Ruby stands by herself, staring down at her phone with a frown. Even with the turmoil that Evie’s kiss (and that tiny, silken
thong) summoned in him, he notices that his sister isn’t her usual cat-ate-the-cream self. In fact, she’s been decidedly unengaged in the tour, which isn’t at all like her.
“You should be proud,” he tells his sister.
They stride to the pagodas, perfectly in step as usual. Like soldiers. Or robots , he thinks.
She tucks her phone away and blinks out into the crowd. Connor, who’s finally pivoted his attention from the kind-but-aloof Talia, has his arm slung around the shoulders of a socialite from H ? Chí Minh City named Veronica. She’s staring up at him with a mixture of awe and adoration. Adam sees the beginnings of a
new couple. Another success story for the pamphlets.
Ruby offers a small smile. “I am proud. I didn’t know for sure what would happen. But there’s something in this formula that works. Taking someone out of
their usual context. Introducing them to people they might never have met.”
“The luxury accommodations and staggering five-star meals don’t hurt,” Adam says wryly.
She laughs. “Nope. Not with this crowd.”
Adam shakes the thought of how his most memorable moments on the trip—the meatball stand, the ride down the alpine track—all
happened away from the crowd, when he was most grimy and undone. And, coincidentally, when he was with Evie.
“Ever the savvy entrepreneur.”
“Can’t apologize for seeing an opportunity and running with it.”
He asks, “But why matchmaking? Why not just... a regular tour? Wouldn’t have been so niche. Would have made you more money.”
“You sound like Ba now,” Ruby says. “He’s always sending me business advice.”
“Ba advises you ? I thought I was the only one with that dubious honor.”
She stares. “Are you kidding me? I’m the firstborn and a woman. I have been under his thumb my entire life. He was trying to enroll me in business classes when I was seven. That
man gave me a monogrammed briefcase for my twelfth birthday. Do you know what a girl wants when she’s twelve? Not a briefcase. ”
“I got mine when I was ten. And it was filled with spreadsheets! It may have just been discarded by some poor sap Ba fired
who never picked up his belongings.”
“He would have fired me many times over if he could have.”
Though they laugh together, Adam hears the pain in her voice, shadowed by his own. He’s always assumed that he gets the brunt
of his parents’ ire, but maybe that isn’t true at all. Maybe Ruby just does a better job of hiding her hurt. Though she shouldn’t
have to. They’re siblings, after all. Who can understand their world of privilege and shrouded disappointment better than
the two of them?
Ruby muses, “It’s going to be strange to see them again. In this new way, with all these new people.”
“You don’t think they’ll be happy to have us?”
The siblings make their way past a bridge crowded with koi, orange mouths puckered open for food, then past a series of massive
bronze cannons.
She’s cautious as she answers. “They will welcome us. But they won’t be able to turn off that part of their brains that criticizes
everything. There’ll be something .”
Adam knows that anxiety. He’s felt it coming on for days. This dread of anticipating a storm without proper shelter or equipment.
It makes him feel flayed open, childlike, to imagine Ba’s rigid stance, M ? ’s restless gaze. Sometimes Adam wonders if his parents see him at all, or if they instead see a hologram version. Pixelated,
unformed. Needing intervention.
The Quy ? ns have always wanted the best for their children. It’s in their blood, a love so fierce that it often manifests in a need
to control, to push the world (and their children) into something resembling order. This type of symmetry can represent security—or
a cage, depending on your perspective. Most days, Adam hardly blames them; they’ve lived through more in their lifetimes than
many can even conceive. Despite their wealth, they were never fully protected from the horrors of war or unrest. It’s natural
for them to crave peace now.
Yet, looking at his sister, he sees something tremulous in her. A weariness that he instinctively wants to pull from her body
into his, like when they were children racing, and he purposefully slowed down so she could catch up. So she could win, as
was her right as the older sister.
His voice softens as he says, “Ruby, you know you can talk about whatever’s going on.”
She raises an eyebrow at him. “You looking to be my therapist, BB?”
“No, Ch ? . I just want you to understand you don’t have to do it alone. That’s why you have a team. That’s why you have a brother .”
They stand in a long red hall with open corridors and a recessed ceiling. Delicately carved doors swing open to let in the
slightest breath of air skimming down the Perfume River, carrying the fragrance of flowers that fall from trees onto the banks
and into the water.
For a second, Ruby and Adam are two sides of a coin. Two still statues, considering their lives and their relationship to
one another.
Then Ruby seems to shake herself. “What could possibly be wrong? I have everything I ever wanted. I have no right to complain.”
“You can always ask for more.”
“No. I should learn to be content with what I have. I just need to discard my melancholy, BB. It does absolutely no good.”
Once, Adam would have said the same thing. He’d have tucked his emotion someplace safe—a monogrammed briefcase crowded with
spreadsheets, perhaps—and gone on with his life. But now he doesn’t feel the usual urge to hide. This trip has changed him.
Made him more willing to confront messy things. Messy people.
And maybe a part of him can now admit to his own messiness. Embrace it, even.
Across the way, running along the bridge with a fistful of koi food, there’s a swish of long hair. A smile that sparkles more
insistently than the sunshine in the highest hills of the central region. His heart skips.
Dulling his emotions would mean dulling the strange, growing sensation inside him. Something more than lust, more than affection,
even. It’s a feeling as magical as a single flower petal stolen from the surface of a winding river outside an Imperial City.