Shaoyen steered Eleanor into the formal sitting room, an aggressively modern space with floor-to-ceiling windows and backlit onyx walls. A Mainland Chinese maid entered carrying a tray groaning with an elaborate Flora Danica tea service that Eleanor privately judged incongruous with the rest of the decor.
“Come, come, have some tea. You are so nice to spend time with us on New Year’s Eve when you should be with your husband,” Shaoyen said graciously.
“Well, Philip doesn’t arrive until late tonight. Our family doesn’t celebrate New Year’s until tomorrow. Speaking of husbands, is Gaoliang around?”
“You just missed him. He had to fly back to Beijing. There are so many official functions he has to attend over the next few days.”
“How unfortunate. Well, you’ll have to save some of these for him,” Eleanor said as she handed Shaoyen a large plastic OG shopping bag.*1
“Oh, you really shouldn’t have!” Shaoyen reached into the bag and began to take out half a dozen different containers. “Now, what are all these delicious-looking confections?”
“Just some traditional New Year goodies made by my mother-in-law’s cooks. Pineapple tarts, love letters, almond cookies, and assorted nyonya cakes.”
“This is so nice of you. Xiè xie!*2 Wait a minute, I have something for you,” Shaoyen said, scurrying off to another room.
Carlton eyed the desserts. “Awfully nice of you to bring all these treats, Mrs. Young. Which one should we try first?”
“I would start with something not too sweet, like the kueh bangkit almond cookies, and work your way up to the pineapple tarts,” Eleanor advised. She studied Carlton’s face for a moment. The scar on his left cheek was just a faint hairline now, and it actually added a dash of roguish charm to his boringly perfect cheekbones. He was a handsome young chap, and even after all the reconstructive surgery still resembled Rachel Chu so closely that it was rather disconcerting to look at him at times. Thankfully, his posh English accent, which reminded her so much of Nicky’s, was much more attractive than Rachel’s absurd American drawl.
“Mind if I share a secret with you, Mrs. Young?” Carlton suddenly whispered.
“Of course,” Eleanor said.
Carlton peered over at the hallway for a moment to see if his mother was approaching, and then, slowly, he lifted himself up from the wheelchair and took a few tentative steps.
“You’re walking now!” Eleanor exclaimed in astonishment.
“Shhhhh! Not so loud!” Carlton said, sitting down in his wheelchair again. “I don’t want my mother to see this until I can walk clear across the room. My PT thinks I’ll be walking normally again within a month, and running by this summer.”
“Oh my goodness! I’m so happy for you,” Eleanor said.
Shaoyen reentered the room. “What’s all the excitement? Did Carlton tell you about his mazi coming to visit?”
“Noooo?” Eleanor replied, her interest piqued.
“She’s not my girlfriend, Mother,” Carlton said.
“Okay, Carlton’s friend is coming to visit us next week,” Shaoyen clarified.
Carlton let out an embarrassed groan.
“Aiyah, Carlton is so handsome and so smart, of course he would have a friend! Too bad, I had so many eligible pretty girls lined up to gaai siu,”*3 Eleanor said mischievously.
Carlton blushed a little. “Do you like the view, Mrs. Young?” he said, trying to change the subject.
“Yes, it’s very nice. You know, you can see my apartment from here,” Eleanor said.
“Really? Which one is it?” Shaoyen said with interest, going up to the window. They had been in Singapore for three months now, and she found it a bit curious that Eleanor had never once invited them over.
“It’s the one on top of that hill over there. Do you see the tower that looks like it’s built on top of that old mansion?”
“Yes, yes!”
“Which floor are you on?” Carlton asked.
“I have the penthouse.”
“Wicked! We tried to get the penthouse here but it was already taken,” Carlton bragged.