Chapter 10 #3
“So that’s the way the fortune cookie crumbles, I guess. With the help of my own mother, Wayward is going to father the male heir of our family, and Meadow and I will be cut out completely.” April slurped down the rest of her third extra spicy Bloody Mary, coughing a bit as it burned her throat.
Chinoiserie Fan gaped as her former mentor finished her sad tale. “You cannot be serious!” she gasped. “I mean, are we in
a Qing Dynasty soap opera? How can your family be so backward?”
They were sitting on the outdoor patio of Moonshadows Malibu, with half-eaten plates of crispy Dungeness crab cakes and gooey
burrata cheese atop thick slices of heirloom tomato drizzled with white truffle hot sauce.
“I mean, it isn’t entirely old-fashioned,” April grumbled with her mouth full. “After all, Wayward is gay and he does do a
lot for the family business . . .”
With a fluttering of her manicured nails, Chinoiserie waved off April’s reasoning. “That is bullshit and you know it, April.
It doesn’t matter that your cousin is gay. He’s a man, and men will take everything from us if we let them. Weren’t the two
of you so close? He was like your little brother once, wasn’t he? How could he betray you like this?”
“It’s no use me being angry at him,” April sighed as she motioned for another drink to a passing waiter. “I should’ve never
stepped aside at Sunfang Global. The moment I let him surpass me in my mother’s eyes, it laid the groundwork for everything
that’s happening now.” She choked on her next words. “It’s really my fault, for being weak.”
“Weak!?” Chinoiserie cried. “April, your family might rewrite history, but I refuse! You are a brilliant businessperson who was the face of Sunfang Global during your time there! You brought that company into a new era! If anything, you set the stage for Wayward’s rise.
The only reason he might have ‘surpassed’ you is—” Chinoiserie paused before leaning over and placing a soft hand on April’s slumped shoulder, now speaking more gently.
“April, honey . . . you’d lost Lewis, and you were raising Meadow.
I can’t imagine what that must have been like.
You’ve never been weak. You are one of the strongest people I know. ”
April looked up at her. “Thank you for saying that, Serie. But I’m just fucking done. Done with the infighting and the carnage
and my family’s twisted addiction to baby boys. I have no cards in this game. I have no career, no savings, no safety net.
For a second, I thought Wayward’s mom was going to help me out, but she’s disappeared on me. All roads lead to Wayward, while
I’m just roadkill.”
Chinoiserie shook her head doggedly. “What about your husband? Cristiano has a job, right? Doesn’t he own a sports consulting
firm?”
April laughed dryly. “Guess who is the main investor of his company?”
Chinoiserie tilted her head questioningly before the answer sunk in. “No way . . .” she breathed. “April Sun, your fucking
mother is a real motherfucking piece of work.”
“She isn’t a legendary businesswoman for no reason. She controls every aspect of my life, including my husband.” April put
her face in her hands. “So you see, Serie, I lost more than my baby boy all those years ago. I also lost my freedom.”
A fresh Bloody Mary was dropped off at their table as the two old friends sat in a moment of grim silence. The sun was now
overhead and an ocean breeze had picked up, lapping at their reddened cheeks.
“You know, April, I owe you everything,” Chinoiserie finally said quietly. “Literally everything. And the truth is, I feel
like I manifested bumping into you today.”
“Oh? How so?”
Chinoiserie leaned back in her chair and stretched luxuriously in her furs.
“Over the years, I’ve thought about you a lot.
How you helped me back when I was nobody.
You say you feel pride whenever you see my company, but what you really should feel is ownership.
Without your mentorship and the network you introduced me to, there would be no Heavenly Cosmetics!
You helped me put together my first business proposals, and my initial investors were people from your circles.
If it weren’t for your generosity and kindness to me, the only way I’d be here today is if I were one of the servers! ”
“Give yourself more credit,” April replied. “You were always gonna make it, one way or another. Besides, what are friends
for?”
Chinoiserie’s perfectly groomed eyebrow cocked over a bright eye. “There was a time when we were more than friends,” she replied
quietly as she placed her hand over April’s. “Or are we just going to skip over that part?”
Surprised by this, April bit her lip as she looked down at their clasped hands. Misty memories emerged in her mind, a sudden
recollection of a younger Chinoiserie’s face looking up at April from between her bare breasts, smiling mischievously at her,
her lips wet with April’s pleasure.
Blinking the image away, April glanced up at Chinoiserie. “We were just girls back then, weren’t we?”
“Yes,” Chinoiserie nodded with a nostalgic smile. “Just two girls, having some carefree fun. And when you got with Cristiano
not long after you and I ended things, I was happy for you.” She then leaned in. “But April, I hope you know how much I cared
for you. How much I still care for you.”
April was surprised to find her vision suddenly blurry with emotion. It was true that back then, she had written off her unexpected
romance with Chinoiserie in their early twenties as innocent girlish infatuation. But now reunited with her dear friend after
all these years, April could not identify this swelling of emotion, so foreign was it now for her . . .
Was it longing?
But April didn’t know how to express what was within her. She only nodded and looked down at her lap. Chinoiserie withdrew
her hand, letting out a quick sigh.
“Regardless, you were my way to my present privileged circumstances,” Chinoiserie said matter-of-factly, returning to her spritely tone.
“And it is a sign from Buddha that we have reunited today. Isn’t your mom’s legendary Lunar New Year party coming up?
How about we collab on a classic April Sun look like old times? ”
April poked at the crab cake on her plate. “Serie, look at me,” she said quietly. “I’m just a house mom now. I don’t do glamour
anymore.”
“April Sun!” Chinoiserie exclaimed. “You were the first true Asian Angeleno socialite before all these fake posers I have
to deal with now! How can you say that about yourself?”
April shrugged. “I don’t even know where my old formal wear is. My closet back home is now just a mess of overgrown baby clothes.”
Instantly, Chinoiserie was quaking with so much excitement that it made their table wobble.
“You okay there, Serie?” April chuckled.
Her old friend stuck a rich plum manicured nail into her face. “Do not threaten me with a fashion makeover montage, April
Sun! I might cum all over this table if that’s what’s happening right now!”
April burst into wild fits of laughter as Chinoiserie began to simulate loud moaning, causing some other diners to cock heads
their way. She reached out to pull her former protégée back into her seat.
“You’re scaring the seagulls. Stop, Serie!”
“Seriously though,” Chinoiserie said. “How could you forget that Chinoiserie Fan is the best one-person glam squad of all
time?! Even if it’s just an excuse for me to see you again, I am coming over and we are going to serve Sunfang princess realness!”
April was still laughing, but she also nodded.
Galahad Chu was looking out the window at Iris’s view of Westwood when she returned with two glasses of warm water with lemon, setting them down on the coffee table between them.
They were in her living room, minimally but tastefully furnished in shades of white and off-white.
Galahad turned his attention to the walls, on which hung various old pictures of Iris, her husband, Godfrey, and a younger Wayward—formal portraits of the two men who had casually abandoned her.
“I can check if there is something to eat if you are hungry,” Iris said carefully. She was still taken aback by Galahad’s
knowledge of Ulaanbaatar and wasn’t sure how to bring it up again, though she was madly curious.
Galahad shook his head. “That is very kind of you, but I do not eat much, not during the day.”
“You said that you have a message from Roses?” Iris asked. “What is it?”
The holy man leaned toward her, his palms upturned. “The message from Roses is simple. She would like to call a truce, and
she would like the two of you to join forces.”
Iris frowned. “That sounds nothing like her.”
Galahad stood up to walk to the wall, where a large picture of a teenage Wayward smiled shyly back at them, his metallic braces
on full display. “When Master Chu recommended me to your sister, he told her that beyond the gifts that he passed onto me,
I possessed another useful quality.” He turned back to Iris. “My youth.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, incredulous. “No Chinese elder has ever found youth useful except for manual labor.”
He laughed. “Perhaps, but my grandfather has worked with Roses for a long time and he understood a central weakness in your
family. Wayward and his generation speak an entirely different language than you and your siblings. Most of your intergenerational
fights are wasted over misinterpreted words and stilted conversations, when they should be about aligning your intentions.”
Iris’s cheeks paled as she realized that this boy had beaten her to a deduction, a rare feat indeed. “And I suppose your youth
enables you to speak both our languages?”
“Correct. I interpreted Roses’s situation and what she said to me. Then I relayed a more palatable message to you, while preserving the spirit of her intention.”
“A truce,” Iris said flatly. “What did she actually say to you?”
“Honestly?” the holy man replied. “She asked me how we could destroy you.”