“You’re speaking to the woman who came out on top,” she told us matter-of-factly in the V&A’s luxurious café. Richard and I could do nothing but stare at the phone in amazement. I had never seen a hungry Richard leave a cake uneaten on the table for so long. That’s how absorbed in the conversation he was.
She surprised us all over again when she explained that she wanted to throw a party to celebrate. A party? Who, what, where, how? Well, the “who” part, I gathered immediately. The “who” was the reason for calling Richard. We were the “who.” Ms. Darling had known Saul since her student days, and now we were celebrating her at Saul’s very house.
I had never heard of someone asking another person to throw a party in their honor and invite them as a guest. It was like hiring someone to throw your own birthday party. I could see it happening for a Hollywood celebrity—but Ms. Darling? And I had only met her once. Still, the tanzanite cuff links she designed for me had turned out to be a great good-luck charm. I owed her a bigger debt than I first thought. But surprisingly, as shrewd as she was, I don’t think that was even part of the calculus for her.
Richard and I lost ourselves in the big news and the accompanying stream of “darling”s and “dear”s delivered in that graceful voice, and by the time we realized what was happening, we had agreed to host a party for her at the Kandy house. It was unbelievable. How did that even happen? Granted, we were happy to play along. When Richard pointed out that it was perfect timing, that was the only encouragement I needed to say yes.
“Iggy, love? Where might I find the plates in this house?”
“The small ones are on the dining room shelves, Joachim. The larger clay plates are in the shed out back. I hate to ask, but would you mind passing them out to people? That’d be a huge help.”
“Aye-aye, captain.”
Joachim turned and vanished into the house, his sequined high heels poking holes in the dirt of the yard as he went. Jeffrey had voiced his objection to this whole thing from moment one by trying to get dead drunk, but it was hard to get drunk on ginger beer alone. That didn’t stop him from acting inebriated and refusing to budge from his lounge chair. Jiro pawed at him, trying to get his attention. You’re a nice guy, aren’tcha? Sure you are! Come play with me.
I hoped Jeffrey would give in, I thought to myself, as I smoothed down the bottom edge of my sarong and went to help Joachim.
The dining room air was thick with powder.
“Marian, that’s more than enough food.”
“Nonsense. What kind of party doesn’t have steamed buns? Here, let me borrow your steamer. I already put the fortunes in the fortune cookies, the gan shao mingxia chili shrimp is ready, and the you lin ji chicken is on a plate over there.”
“Where did you get this shrimp and chicken from…?”
“Downtown. I borrowed a three-wheeler. My great-uncle used to drive one just like it. Oh, don’t worry, I used the key—I didn’t hotwire it. Are you looking for Vince, Seigi? Someone called him away after he wrapped all those buns for me.”
This cheerful, giggling woman wearing my lotus-flower-patterned apron was Marian Lai. She’d come all the way from America. I must have told her about forty times that she could just relax and enjoy herself—there was no need to do the cooking or cleaning—but the moment I turned my back on her, she made our dining room smell as good as the kitchen of a Chinese restaurant. If I had had someone like her waiting for me at home, my diet would have been doomed. I wished Vince all the happiness of a married man living large and enjoying the good life.
By “perfect timing,” Richard meant that the party could mark the conclusion of this series of events that began with the cruise ship incident. It was, he said, a good opportunity to thank everyone and congratulate Maya. She agreed, saying that sounded more fun than a party where she lorded over everyone else as the sole guest of honor. Whether or not I believed that, I did think the more the merrier.
A chance to thank and treat everyone involved sounded perfect to me. I had lots of people I wanted to invite: the guest of honor Ms. Darling herself, Vince and Marian (obviously), Henry and Jeffrey, Joachim if he would come, my boss and Saul, Kumara after all the help she gave me during my time in Sri Lanka, and…
“Seigi, this is magnifique! Did you make this yourself?”
“That’s correct. It’s called watalappan. It’s kind of like a pudding.”
“Goodness me! What a dangerous dish. If my dear Richard lived here, he would blow up like a blimp. Oh my goodness.”
With every goodness, Catherine spooned up another mouthful of watalappan. She was more dazzling than a Hollywood actress, more charming than a clerk in a fancy boutique. The red patterned dress she wore was as eye-catching as a tropical flower. When I contacted her with an invite—I mean, why not?—she responded immediately to say that no party was complete without her presence. Then she went straight to asking about flights.
Just to be on the safe side, I warned her that I couldn’t pay for her. Fortunately, she laughed at me and told me not to be silly. The neighbors watched her from the other side of the white fence bordering the garden, probably wondering what was making her beam so brightly. Whenever Catherine tipped them a wink or a small grin, they scattered. I found the whole interaction super cute. Sure enough, I reflected, most women in this area were nothing like Catherine.
“Tell me, Seigi, where is Richard?”
“He’s not over there? Maybe he’s taking a break.”
“Well, if you see him, tell him I want to talk. There’s just so much I want to ask about the two of you. How have things been since we last chatted?”
“…Eventful, that’s for sure.”
“But of course. That’s life.”
Catherine’s voice was as clear and beautiful as I remembered it. She smiled and waved like a model, promising she’d be right back, and I went further into the garden. I didn’t think they’d be out right now—it was too loud for them—but a family of porcupines lived in the sprawling woods behind the house and sometimes could be seen right next to the kitchen shed. Their spines were sharp and could be dangerous for any guests who hadn’t dealt with porcupines before. Joachim, for one, would have screamed if he saw one. I wanted to shoo away any that might have been lurking nearby, so I grabbed the broom leaning up against the wall of the house and headed out back behind the kitchen shed.
Then I heard two people talking. One was a voice I recognized without trying. Richard’s. The other was—well, I didn’t have to guess that one, either. It was Vince’s.
The two were deep in a conversation in a place where no one was likely to stumble upon them. From my angle, only their backs were visible. It reminded me of that first night on the cruise ship. Back then, when Richard asked Vince to watch out for me, I had no idea who Vince was, and my only thought was What if someone tries to hurt Richard? Both of them had been concerned about me.