Chapter 47
forty-seven
PRESENT DAY
KATE
Mom must not hear me over the shuffling stream of people on their way to the Astor wing. She stands stock still in front of my video, clutching her designer handbag. Her amber eyes stay locked in on the screen, and I can’t quite make out the expression in them.
I swallow what little saliva I have left as I approach.
“Mom?” I say again, and she turns. Her chestnut hair is piled into a rolled updo on the back of her head, and her wrist-length gown is a champagne color.
“Katherine.” She sighs my name like it should explain everything. Explain why she’s here. Her attention flits back to the screen for a long moment before she speaks.
“You remind me so much of her.”
“Who?” I ask, more than a little confused.
Mom sighs again. “James’s mother.”
Grandma Chen.
Her memory pangs in my stomach. She would have loved tonight. Soaked in the art that Amantha and I have worked so hard for. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my eyes from smarting.
“I do?” I say.
But it’s like she can’t hear me. My mother is trapped in her own world.
“She disliked me so much,” she murmurs at the screen. “Disliked that I wasn’t worthy of her son, and that I wasn’t Chinese. Disliked that I grew up, as she so often put it, eating from a silver spoon.”
She laughs, but it’s laced with venom. “Even when you girls were born, it was still a constant fight. She disagreed with how we parented. Snuck you candy after we had your cavities filled. Gave you freedom that wasn’t hers to offer.”
She turns her haunted eyes on me, and my breath falters. I’ve never seen her like this.
“You came out looking so much like her.” She addresses my surprised expression. “Trust me, I’ve seen photos of her growing up in Hong Kong. You could be her twin.”
I swallow, both waiting for her to continue and not knowing what to say. She twists back to the photo, and I think I spot the hint of a quiver in her manicured hands.
“I haven’t been fair to you,” she whispers. “Yes, you have her face, her artistic nature, and her boldness, but you aren’t her.” She says this word with such vehemence, it’s like she’s convincing herself.
Her smile turns sad, and my mother, the debutante queen of Kentucky, says the words I’d never dreamed she’d say.
“I owe you an apology. Technically, we owe you an apology. James wasn’t very fond of his mother either, and any resemblance of her we tried to stomp out in you girls.”
She approaches my wide eyes and gently tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “But you, like her, are too fierce to be tamed. And for the first time, Katherine, I’m not necessarily convinced that’s a bad thing.”
Emotion burns behind my eyes, but I stay silent.
“Your grandmother would have never addressed us the way you did in that study weeks ago. Bold, yes. Passionate, yes. But with quiet love and respect that I’m not sure we deserved.”
“I do love you guys,” I mumble through the growing lump in my throat.
I’m waiting for the shoe to drop.
For the edges of the sentiment to shimmer away like the mirage they are.
Waiting for the manipulation to slap me in the face.
But I’m still waiting.
“And we love you.” Her amber eyes turn glossy. “I want to do better, Katherine. I cannot speak for James, but I’m hoping he’ll come around in his own time. You see, he’s disliked his mother for much longer than I have. But I have faith in him.”
Something over my shoulder catches her attention, and I turn to see Brandon has returned, clearly eavesdropping while pretending to admire the arched ceiling.
I turn back, surprised to find a tiny smile on my mother’s face.
“He’s a good man,” she says, nodding to Brandon.
“If it weren’t for him sending your father and me that very video”—she points at the monitor—“I don’t think I would have had the boldness to come tonight.
” She meets my gaze, looking much older than I’ve ever seen her.
“I believe he loves you. And although he’s…
unorthodox, I shouldn’t have persisted on about Tanner.
You see, I married my ‘Tanner.’ And while I love your father in his own right, I often wonder… ”
It’s like something has cracked inside my mother, admissions spilling out at an alarming rate. She rallies, drawing herself back to the present with an embarrassed smile.
“I’m sorry. You don’t need to listen to the ramblings of an older woman on your special evening.”
My heart responds before my mind processes even one of her words. I throw my arms around her, and she stiffens only a millisecond before returning the hug with a small pat.
Healing our relationship is going to be an uphill battle, but for the first time, I think we might be fighting on the same side.
It’s everything I ever wanted, and all it took was setting us both free to be ourselves. While I’m tentative, I can sense a shift—a genuine one—within my mother. It’s as if she’s looking at me. All of me.
Hot emotion threatens my smoked eyeliner, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Brandon receive a text. It must be from one of the staff, because although he looks hesitant to leave me alone, he mouths “come find me later” before striding toward the Astor wing.
A flash of silver draws my attention near the entrance, and I have to do a double take at the person striding toward us.
My sister is an emboldened vision in a molten silver dress that drips over her body. She walks with unwavering strides, pins me with her brown eyes, and huffs an overgrown bang out of one of them.
Liza doesn’t spare a glance at Mom, who seems every bit as dumbstruck as me, before Liza juts out her left hand and raises it to my face.
My attention is drawn like a magnet to the sparkling wedding band now keeping Liza’s engagement ring company.
My jaw drops. “You didn’t.”
Her fierceness softens into a small grin, and it feels like the first ray of sunshine after a hurricane.
“I did.”
“Liza!” I throw my arms around her. “I’m so happy for you guys! And I’m sorry for the things I said at the airport. I didn’t mean—”
“No, you did,” she huffs, then resigns with a tight smile. “But it was the kick in the butt I needed. You were right on so many levels, but that doesn’t mean it was comfortable to hear. But I guess it all worked out in the end.”
She admires her ring, then meets my stare with misty eyes. “I’m sorry, too. I should have made space for us to talk, but I was just so angry.”
“I understand,” I whisper, and she takes my hands.
“It’s all okay now. I mean, I missed you guys being there like crazy, but it gave Cam and me the private ceremony I didn’t realize we needed. Plus, we decided to turn our wedding date next year into a reception party, so will you still be my maid of honor for that—”
“Elizabeth Wilhelmina Chen!” My mother must have overcome her shock, blowing her name like a dragon.
Liza startles a foot off the ground, and I realize she must have not noticed who was beside us. But the determined pinch in her brows returns, and she jerks her head at me to make my escape before all hell breaks loose.
I give them both a quick squeeze, scurrying away as their voices rise behind me.
The Astor wing is brimming with people. Champagne glasses clink, traffic honks, and laughter carries.
It’s as if Chicago’s finest are out exploring the murals of the city beneath blinking traffic lights. The energy in this gala couldn’t be more different than the sophisticated excitement we usually experience at events.
My eyes catch on a pale-skinned man nodding at me from beside the Starved Rock mural.
I cough a surprised laugh and wave at Levi. I forgot I invited him weeks ago, and it warms me that he came. He strolls off toward the next mural, hands in his pockets, and I lose him in the shifting crowd.
Artistic energy pulses through my veins in time with the music before a wide pair of tuxedo-clad arms circle my middle, spinning me through the air.
My head falls back with a laugh as Brandon’s spicy cedarwood scent engulfs me. His heartbeat hammers against mine, and I lose myself in his brilliant smile.
My body slides inch by inch against his as I drop to the floor.
“You sent my parents Julia’s video?” I whisper, fingers weaving through the hair on the back of his neck.
“I did.”
“When?” I shake my head, eyes wide.
“The week after we got home from Marisol Bay. I was still hurt, but I saw Jules working on it at Tuck’s and my apartment one night.
I figured that even if we didn’t have closure, you still deserved to get some with your parents.
I got your dad’s email off the hospital website.
And that video…” He trails off. “It was the most authentic you, Kate. I wanted them to see it, even if they wouldn’t accept it. ”
“They did,” I say, tears brimming. “Well, my mom did. Or is trying to, at least. Brandon, she came because of you.”
His calloused thumb stops my tear in its track.
“No, love. It’s because you’re you.”
His lips slant over mine, and the world dissolves into a blur of chartreuse, burnt sienna, and orange traffic cones.
We’re amid a throng of people, but it’s as though we’ve found our own pocket of silence. A mural within our hearts far more beautiful than any ones bordering this hall.
A wolf whistle emits over the din of traffic, and we break apart.
Blythe’s got her fingers shoved in her gap-toothed smile, arm around Robyn’s shoulders.
My eyes rove over the small audience beside them.
Amantha grins, standing with her back pressed against Val’s chest. Val’s sister, Camilla, and her detective husband I’ve only heard about, Daniel, stand beside them.
Susan beams with tears in her blue eyes behind her grandson, but Anthony only crosses his arms over his small suit and makes a gagging motion.
I stick my tongue out at my faux-nephew, and he laughs.
Brandon’s fingers are warm around mine as he pulls me toward my makeshift family.
Although I’m passed from embrace to embrace, his hand never leaves mine.