“Kalliste, I SAID: CAN YOU BREATHE?”
“She’s got headphones on, Dad. She can’t see or hear a thing. She?
?s like Helen Keller right now,” Augustine said.
“At least Helen Keller could speak!” Eddie said in annoyance.
“Um, actually, she couldn’t, Pa. She was mute,” Constantine responded from the front passenger seat. Eddie reached over and tugged his daughter’s veil aside. “Get those headphones off! Don’t you dare wear them into the church!”
“What difference does it make? No one will be able to see me under this thing. Can’t I just listen to Shawn Mendes while I’m in the church? I promise you his songs will make me cry buckets like you want me to.”
“No Shawn Mendez! And no Mario Lopez, Rosie Perez, or Lola Montez either! Kids, you are all going to sit in the church with ramrod-straight posture, singing all the hymns and crying pitifully. Cry as if I’ve cut off your allowance!”
“That’s really going to work, Dad. Boo hoo hoo, what am I going to do without my twenty dollars this week?” Constantine said sarcastically.
“Okay, you’ve just lost your allowance for the rest of the year! And if I don’t see you crying until your eyes bleed, especially while I’m singing my song—”
“Eddie, ENOUGH! What is the point of trying to force the kids to cry when they don’t wish to cry?” Fiona snapped.
“How many times do I have to tell you…we need to be the chief mourners at this funeral. We need to show everyone how much we care, because all eyes will be on us! Everyone knows that we are going to be benefiting the most!”
“And how would they know that?”
“Fiona, have you been in dreamland all week? Ah Ma died before she could make any changes to her will! We’re going to be the ones getting the lion’s share! In a few days, we’re going to become bona fide members of the three-comma club!*1 So we have to really go all out to display our grief!”
Fiona shook her head in disgust. At this moment, her husband truly made her feel like crying.
···
“Lorena, Lorena, over here! I choped*2 this seat for you!” Daisy shouted, waving from her strategically chosen aisle seat.
Lorena made a beeline for Daisy and saw the packet of tissues she had placed next to her on the wooden pew. “Thanks for saving me this seat! I thought I was going to have to sit with my in-laws. Is Q.T. still parking?”
“Aiyah, you know my husband doesn’t do funerals. Just the sight of a coffin will give him diarrhea.” Just then, there was a loud buzzing from Daisy’s handbag. “Wait ah, I’m going to take out my iPad. Nadine wanted me to FaceTime her from the funeral. She’s beside herself that she didn’t get invited.”
“What? Ronnie and her didn’t get invitations?”
“No, Old Man Shaw got the invitation, and of course he brought the new wife. They are two rows in front of us.”
Lorena craned her neck to look at Nadine’s father-in-law, the eighty-five-year-old stroke survivor Sir Ronald Shaw and his brand-new twenty-nine-year-old wife from Shenzhen. “I must say she’s very pretty, but I’m still surprised that Sir Ronald isn’t, you know, chee cheong fun.”
“Aiyah, these days with Viagra, even chee cheong fun can become you char kway.”*3 Daisy giggled as she activated the FaceTime function. Nadine’s dramatically made-up face popped up on screen. “Alamak, Daisy, I’ve been waiting and waiting! Who’s arrived? Who do you see?”
“Well, your father-in-law is here with your new…er…mother-in-law.”
“Oh, who gives a damn about them! How does Eleanor look? And what’s Astrid wearing?” Nadine asked.
“Eleanor of course looks great—I think she’s wearing that black Akris suit with notched lapels she bought when we all went to the Harrods sale a couple of years ago. Astrid hasn’t arrived yet, or at least I don’t see her anywhere. Oh my goodness! Who’s this? The Bride of Frankenstein just walked in!”
“What? Who? Hold up your iPad, let me see!” Nadine said excitedly.
Daisy covertly pointed her iPad toward the central aisle. “Alamak, it’s Eddie Cheng’s wife, the long-suffering Tung girl. She’s dressed up like Queen Victoria in full mourning garb with a big black hat covered by a floor-length black veil. And oh look, their daughter is dressed just like her! And the sons are wearing black brocade Nehru jackets. Good grief, they look like they are in some suicide cult!”
—
Rachel went along with Nick’s parents to the beautifully polished wooden pews reserved for the family, marveling at the beautiful neo-Gothic features of Singapore’s oldest cathedral as she walked up the central aisle. Nick meanwhile headed to the chapel behind the altar to confer with his aunt Victoria, who was in the midst of coordinating all the speakers. He shook the president’s hand and waited patiently for his marching orders. Victoria finally noticed him. “Oh Nicky, good, you’re here. Listen, I hope you don’t mind, but we’ve had to cut your speech from the program. We simply don’t have the time, with everyone needing to speak.”
Nick stared at her in dismay. “You’re not serious?”