“Yes, probably.” She sighed and moved over to stand by the fire. “He’s been getting threats.”
“Threats? From whom?”
“We don’t know. They leave messages on his porch or in his car.”
“What do they say?”
“That they don’t want him here,” Fiona said. “To go back to China.”
“Who would do such a thing?” My blood immediately went hot. “Have they threatened Mrs. Wu?” Fai was away at school, so she was safe. But Mrs. Wu was in her seventies and growing frail. Although she still lived here with us and helped Lizzie in the kitchen, she worked short days. Lizzie kept her tasks to a minimum but enough that Mrs. Wu wouldn’t feel guilty about living in our staff quarters.
“I don’t think so. Just Li,” Fiona said.
“Do you know where he was earlier?”
“Playing for a party. I don’t know who.”
“Why weren’t you playing too?” They usually were asked to play together.
“I had the feeling it was not a party for a young woman,” Fiona said.
“Oh.” I let that sink in for a moment. What kind of party would there be for men only? Or maybe there were women there—just not anyone like Fiona.
I went to the wardrobe to take off my dress and hang it up. Shivering in the chilly room, I quickly donned my flannel nightgown. “The party probably ran late and he didn’t want to come by and disturb us.”
“You’re probably right. Still, I might drive out to his house first thing in the morning to make sure.”
I went into the bathroom to wash my face and clean my teeth. By the time I returned, Fiona was in the double bed. She had her head on the pillow, but her eyes were wide open. They flickered my way as I dived into the bed.
“It feels good to get into bed.” I yawned. “What a night. You want me to turn out the light?”
“Yes, please.” She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. “I hope I can fall asleep. I feel quite unsettled about Li.”
I leaned over to switch off the lamp. But first, I ran a finger over the pattern of pink roses on its base. The room went dark other than the glow from the fire. A log snapped and crackled, spitting out an ember.
Fiona reached for my feet with hers. Our wool socks scraped against each other. I closed my scratchy eyes but as tired as I was, I couldn’t fall asleep. With everything with Addie and now this fear about Li, I might not sleep.
“You awake?” Fiona asked.
“Yes. Thinking about everything.”
“I wish Li would never have moved out to his own house,” Fiona said. “Then he’d be safe here with us.”
“He’s so proud to have his own house, though,” I said.
“What’s the use of a house if you can’t fill it with family?”
I thought about that for a moment. Who would Li marry? Did he want to marry? Any white woman who married him here in America would have a hard time. “Does Li have his eyes on anyone?” I asked.
“I don’t think so.” Her voice wobbled slightly.
“It would be hard to be different from everyone around you,” I said. “He’s not different to us, obviously, but you know how people are.”
“You know exactly how it is to be different,” Fiona said.
“I guess I do.”
“He’s pure of heart. So good. He doesn’t deserve to have to live in fear,” Fiona said.
I paused before speaking, taking in the tone of her voice. Something was different. A quality I’d not heard before. A mixture of admiration and anger. Well, of course she admired him. What wasn’t there to admire, after all? They were musical partners. She spent a lot of time with him. Any injustice in the world bothered Fiona, especially if it involved someone she cared about. That’s all I was hearing, I told myself. She couldn’t possibly be in love with Li Wu. They’d practically grown up together. In addition, he was too old for her. She’d just turned eighteen, and he was twenty-five.
“Fiona, do you have your eye on anyone?”
She didn’t answer. For a second I thought she was asleep, but then she moved her feet away from mine.
“Fiona?”
“No, I shan’t ever marry. I want to live here with Mama and Papa forever. I can’t leave my piano.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, I was only reading too much into the tonality of her voice.
“Go to sleep, dear sister,” I said. “Everything’s going to be better by morning light.”
She sniffed. “I hope you’re right.”
Alarmed, I reached out for her hand. “Are you crying?”
“No. I might be getting a cold.” Fiona’s voice trembled again. She was most certainly crying.
“What’s wrong, Fi? You can tell me.”
“I might be a little in love with Li.” She spoke so softly I almost thought I’d heard her wrong.
“Oh, Fi.”
“I know.” She sniffed again. “He’s too old, for one.”
“Which is not the main problem,” I said. “As you know.”
“What would people think? What would Papa and Mama think?”
I chose my words carefully. “They think of him as Li, a boy they’ve cared very much for. An American boy. Like us and everyone else in this town, his family came from somewhere across the seas.”
“That’s not how people see it,” Fiona said. “There’s hatred for Chinese.”