Sharon Shinn - Gateway

“Dad! I’m home!” she called from the foot of the steps. “Do you want me to make dinner?”

“That would be great!” he called back. “Make enough for three.”

The kitchen was cramped and falling into disrepair, and it was always a challenge trying to maneuver around the piles of lumber and stacks of paint cans that her father seemed to think were best stored right inside the back door. Still, Daiyu was rarely bothered by turmoil or disorder; her father said her ability to function even in the midst of chaos was her single most valuable personal skill. Within forty-five minutes she had cooked the meal, set the table, and stored some of the paint cans in a more convenient spot.

“Dinner’s ready,” she announced, and two men tramped down the stairs to join her in the dining room.

Her father had to bend way down to kiss her on the cheek. He was a good six feet three inches, lanky and loose limbed, with hair as black as hers but eyes so blue people always remarked on the color the first time they met him.“Honey, this is Edward,” he said, introducing his companion.

“Hi, Edward,” she said. “I hope you like pasta.”

Edward smiled. He was missing a few of his teeth, and his skin was bad, but his hair was washed, his clothes were clean, and he’d shaved that morning, so he looked pretty good compared to many of her father’s itinerant workers. Her father hired a lot of them from local homeless shelters or work-release programs, but he’d also been known to pull to the side of the road when he saw someone holding up a sign proclaiming WILL WORK FOR FOOD. Daiyu couldn’t remember a holiday or a renovation project during which her family hadn’t been offering hospitality to some stranger down on his luck.

“I like pretty much anything someone is willing to put on the table in front of me,” Edward said.

“How much did you get done today?” Daiyu asked as they sat down and began dishing out the food.

“Put up the crown molding in that third-story bedroom,” her father answered. “Edward’s exceptionally handy with a saw.”

“Used to be a carpenter,” Edward said.

“How about you, honey?” her father asked. “Did you have a good day?”

“Kind of slow at work, but I walked around the Arch grounds at lunch. It’s almost all set up for the fair. Are we going tomorrow?”

He looked briefly dismayed. “I can’t! I promised Jordan I’d be at church all day tomorrow working on the new addition.” He glanced at Edward. “You could come help out, if you like. No money in it, but you’ll get lunch and dinner.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” Edward said.

Her father looked back at Daiyu. “We could go Sunday.”

She shook her head. “I don’t care. If I feel like it, I’ll head down tomorrow afternoon by myself.”

Daiyu was serving Oreos for dessert when Mom called, and Dad took the cordless phone upstairs to have a private conversation. Edward dunked his cookie in his coffee and gave Daiyu an appraising look.

“Are you one of those Chinese babies?” he asked.

She smiled. “I’m hardly a baby anymore, but yes, my parents adopted me from China when I was six months old.”

“You think you might go back to China someday?”

“I’d like to,” she said. “Maybe after I’m out of college. At least once in my life I’d like to travel someplace exotic. The farther away, the better.”

Edward helped her clear the table, but they weren’t quite done with the dishes when her father came back downstairs and handed her the phone. Daiyu carried it halfway up the stairs and sat down on one of the worn-out risers.

“Hi, Mom,” she said. “How’s Gramma?”

“Pretty good,” replied her mother. “She’s getting stronger and less cranky every day.”

Gramma had had hip-replacement surgery, and Daiyu’s mother was out in California for the summer overseeing the recovery.

“Well, tell her she has to get well enough to climb steps, because she has to come visit us and there’s no bathroom on the bottom floor. Or tell her if she doesn’t want to climb the steps, we’ll just have to get her a bucket.”

Her mother laughed, and Daiyu imagined her face lighting up in amusement. Her mother was a calm, big-boned woman with wide brown eyes, thick brown hair, and an inexhaustible sense of humor, and amusement was her most common expression.

“Hey, I made do with a bucket when your dad and I were first dating and he was fixing up that dreadful place on Jamieson. I always told him he only married me because I had a functional toilet.”

They talked for another fifteen minutes before hanging up. Her father had already left to take Edward home-or, more likely, to one of the shelters downtown-so Daiyu finished up the dishes and then headed up to her room. It was long and narrow, with high ceilings and leaded glass windows, and once it was restored it would be a beautiful space, she thought. But right now the paint was peeling, the floor was in bad enough shape that she’d gotten splinters twice, and there was a faint scent of mildew. She knew that within a year, it would be airy and charming and full of light. That’s when they’d sell the place and look for a new project to renovate.

She spent the next couple of hours talking on her cell phone and sending text messages. Three of her close friends were out of town for the holiday, and the other two didn’t want to go to Fair Saint Louis. Fine. Daiyu decided she wouldn’t go either. No reason to revisit the jewelry booth. No reason to look at the jade ring again and then realize she didn’t want it. Because she really didn’t. She told herself she couldn’t even remember how it had felt on her hand.

DAIYU WAS STILL in bed the next morning when Isabel called her cell phone. “What’s going on?” she asked in a sleepy voice.

“Would you be willing to work for a few hours this afternoon? There’s a career fair at the Fox Theatre today. I’m going to give a presentation and hand out fliers. My daughter was supposed to help me out but she’s got the flu. I’ll pay you thirty dollars for the afternoon.”

“They do career fairs at the Fox?” Daiyu said, pulling herself out of bed and hunting through her closet. She didn’t have too many outfits that qualified as professional, and most of them had already been worn this week. “That seems weird.”

“It’s some special event for a women’s networking group. After the presentations, there will be a concert, I believe, but we won’t stay for that. Would you be willing to help me out?”

“Sure,” said Daiyu. “When do you need me there?”

“I’ll pick you up at three.”

After lunch, Daiyu put together an outfit of narrow black pants, a sleeveless gold top, and a pair of black Skechers. She’d learned the hard way that while it was important to look good at events like this, wearing comfortable shoes was even more critical. She was standing outside the town house when Isabel pulled up.

“You’re my favorite summer intern ever,” Isabel declared. “I can’t think of a single other high school girl who would have been willing to work on a Saturday, especially on such short notice.”

“I need the extra money,” Daiyu said, surprising herself. “I want to buy a ring.”

It was always a treat to go down to Grand Avenue and visit the Fox, an eighty-year-old restored movie theater that was now a prime venue for concerts and plays. The cavernous, high-ceilinged lobby was lined with massive terra cotta-colored pillars that seemed to hold up the intricately detailed ceiling; the floor was a slick, reflective marble. Daiyu always thought it deserved its nickname of “The Fabulous Fox.”

About fifteen booths were set up in the lobby. Daiyu stood behind the Executive Edge table and handed out brochures to the smartly dressed women who circled through, looking for better jobs with higher salaries. Isabel spent her time working the floor or slipping up the wide stairs into the theater to hear her competitors deliver speeches. At five, she disappeared for half an hour to give her own presentation. By six, the networking women were filing over to a buffet line for dinner, and Isabel and Daiyu were headed back out to Isabel’s car.