“I just left Mount E. Ahmad is driving me to Carol Tai’s—she’s having a chili crab party. I had to get out of that hospital ward because it was getting too chaotic. Felicity is being her usual bossy mother hen—she said I couldn’t go in to see Ah Ma because too many people had been to see her already and they had to start restricting the number of visitors. So I just sat outside for a while and nibbled away on the buffet with your cousin Astrid. I wanted to show my face so no one would dare say I didn’t do my duty as the wife of the eldest son.”
“Well, how is Ah Ma?” Nick didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was rather anxious to know whether his grandmother was dead or alive.
“They managed to stabilize her, so she’s okay for now.”
Nick looked up at Rachel and mouthed, “She’s okay,” as Eleanor continued her update: “They put her on a morphine drip so she’s sedated at the moment in the Royal Suite. But Prof Oon’s wife told me that it’s not looking good.”
“Prof Oon’s wife is a doctor?” Nick asked, confused.
“No, lah! But she’s his wife—she heard it straight from the horse’s mouth that Ah Ma’s not going to last long. Alamak, what do you expect? She has congestive heart failure and she’s ninety-six years old—it’s not like they can operate at this point.”
Nick shook his head derisively—patient confidentiality was obviously not high on Francis Oon’s list. “What is Mrs. Oon even doing there?”
“Don’t you know Mrs. Oon is the niece of Singapore’s First Lady? She brought along the First Lady, Great-aunt
Rosemary T’sien, and Lillian May Tan. The entire floor at Mount E has been sealed off to the public—it’s become a restricted VVIP floor because of Ah Ma, Mrs. Lee Yong Chien, and the Dowager Sultana of Perawak. There was a bit of a fuss over who would be put in the Royal Suite,*1 as the Malay ambassador insisted that the Dowager Sultana had to get it, but then the First Lady intervened and told the hospital’s chief officer, ‘This isn’t even up for discussion. Of course Shang Su Yi must have the Royal Suite.’?”
“Wait a minute, Mrs. Lee and the Sultana of Perawak? I’m not following you…”
“Aiyoh, you didn’t hear what happened? Isabel Wu had a psychotic breakdown and kidnapped her children from school and flew them to Singapore and barged into Rosalind Fung’s Christian Fellowship Banquet and threw a bowl of extra-hot laksa at Astrid but missed and it landed all over the ladies but thank God Felicity was wearing one of her pasar malam*2 polyester dresses from that tailor of hers in Tiong Bahru so the soup did NOTHING to her and slid right off like Teflon but poor Mrs. Lee and the Dowager Sultana got drenched and are recovering from first-degree burns.”
“Okay, you’ve completely lost me there.” Nick shook his head in exasperation, as Rachel gave him a questioning look.
“I thought of all people you’d know. Isabel Wu accused Astrid of spreading her legs…I mean, having an affair with her husband, Charlie! Right in front of Bishop See Bei Sien and everyone in the banquet hall! Aiyoh, it’s so shameful—now it’s out in the open and all of Singapore is talking about it! Is it true? Is Astrid Charlie’s mistress?”
“She’s not his mistress, Mum. That much I can tell you,” Nick said carefully.
“You and your cousin—always keeping secrets from me! Poor Astrid looked completely shell-shocked at the hospital, but she was still trying to play the gracious hostess to all the visitors. Anyway, when are you coming home?”
Nick paused for a moment, before saying decisively, “I’m not coming back.”
“Nicky, don’t talk nonsense! You must come home! Everyone is coming back—your father is already on his way from Sydney, Uncle Alfred arrives in a few days, Auntie Alix and Uncle Malcolm are flying in from Hong Kong, and even Auntie Cat is coming down from Bangkok. And get this—supposedly all your Thai cousins are coming too! Can you believe that? Those high-and-mighty royal cousins of yours never deign to come down to Singapore, but I’m telling you”—Eleanor paused, glancing at her driver before cupping her hands over the cell phone and whispering rather indiscreetly—“they all sense that this is the end. And they want to show their faces at Ah Ma’s bedside just to make sure they’re in the will!”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Only you would say something like that. I’m sure that’s the last thing on anyone’s mind.”
Eleanor laughed derisively. “Oh my goodness, don’t be so naïve. I guarantee you that’s the only thing going through everyone’s mind! The vultures are all circling like mad, so get yourself on the next flight! This is your last chance to make up with your grandmother”—she lowered her voice again—“and if you play your cards right, you still might get Tyersall Park!”
“I think that ship has sailed. Trust me, I don’t think I’ll be welcomed.”
Eleanor sighed in frustration. “You’re wrong about that, Nicky. I know Ah Ma won’t close her eyes until she sees you one last time.”
—
Nick ended the call and quickly updated Rachel on his grandmother’s condition and the Isabel Wu hot-soup incident. Then he perched on the edge of the plaza’s reflecting pool, suddenly feeling drained. Rachel sat beside him and put her arm around his shoulder, not saying anything. She knew how complicated things were between him and his grandmother. They had once been extremely close—Nick being the adored only grandson who bore the Young surname and the only grandchild who had lived at Tyersall Park—but it had now been more than four years since they had last seen or spoken to each other. And it was all because of her.
Su Yi had ambushed them during what was supposed to be a romantic getaway in the Cameron Highlands of Malaysia, commanding Nick to end his relationship with Rachel. But Nick had not only refused; he had uncharacteristically insulted his grandmother in front of everyone—something that had probably never happened to this revered woman in her entire life. Over the past few years, the gulf had only widened as Nick defiantly married Rachel in California, leaving his grandmother and the majority of his large family off the wedding invitation list.
This girl does not come from a proper family! Rachel still vividly remembered Su Yi’s condemnation, and for a moment, a slight chill went down her spine. But here in New York, Shang Su Yi’s shadow didn’t loom as large, and for the past two years, she and Nick had been blissfully enjoying married life far away from any family interference. Rachel had occasionally tried to see if anything could be done to mend the fences between Nick and his grandmother, but he had stubbornly refused to talk about it. She knew Nick wouldn’t react so angrily if he didn’t care about his grandmother so much.
Rachel looked Nick squarely in the face. “You know, as much as it pains me to admit it, I think your mother’s right—you should go home.”
“New York is my home,” Nick replied flatly.
“You know what I mean. Your grandmother’s situation sounds really precarious.”
Nick stared up at the windows of Rockefeller Center, still lit at this late hour, avoiding Rachel’s eyes. “Look, I’m starving. Where should we go for a late supper? Buvette? Blue Ribbon Bakery?”
Rachel realized it was pointless to push him any further. “Let’s do Buvette. I think their coq au vin is just what we need right now.”