Chang-Rae Lee - On Such A Full Sea

That would be fun for them, Fan said.

It will be, as long as everything goes the way it’s supposed to. The architect is drawing up plans. But I’ve been worrying about it. We’re going to have all the money we’ll ever need, but only when the deal goes through. Only God and I know how much we’ve spent in the last month! Many times more than we have, that’s for sure. There’s no reason why the deal shouldn’t happen, but every time I ask Liwei when it’s going to happen, all he says is that the lawyers are the problem. The lawyers! That they just keep bickering over the tiniest details.

Fan said that she’d heard him complain about that.

But you know what I did yesterday? Betty said. I thought, What could they be fighting about that’s so important? Liwei isn’t even going to run the lab anymore or have any say, he’s giving up all control, so what’s there to argue about? So I called a friend who works at the law firm we hired and asked her if she could find out what the remaining issues were and you know what she told me?

Fan shook her head.

She told me there were issues before but of course none now. I said, Why “of course”? Because the contract was agreed to more than a week ago, she said. Liwei apparently was in to sign it. Liwei didn’t tell me he did, but we were fighting a lot then and I can understand how it slipped. Anyway, my friend said now we’re simply waiting for the countersignature. But for some reason they’re taking their time. They don’t seem to be in any hurry. Of course, you don’t need to know about such things, but it’s all a little worrisome, don’t you think?

Fan agreed it was, to which Betty gave a great sigh, though in a strange way the corroboration seemed to make Betty feel a little better, too, and after she deposited her sneakers and toiletries in the plastic shoe bag she’d brought with her, she set the bag down on the narrow upholstered leather bench that ran between the polished wood lockers.

Could I ask you something? Betty said, taking Fan’s hands in hers.

Sure.

When you were out there, in the open counties, I assume you weren’t all alone, because that would have been too hard and dangerous, yes?

Yes.

But you must have felt very alone anyway, right? I know you left of your own free will but putting that aside, you must have felt at times that you’d lost everything. Your household and your clan and your friends. Your work in the tanks. The many other things you surely enjoyed. And of course, your Reg. All the things that had made you you, made you Fan, there was none of it. It was all gone, and maybe, in your mind, gone forever. Was it like that?

Fan didn’t immediately answer.

And when it was like that, Betty went on, her beautiful eyes disked wide and dark, it must have been frightening, so frightening. I can hardly imagine, but did you feel something else, too? Something on the other side of all that? I’ve been feeling very funny of late. It’s nothing like what you probably experienced but I can’t stop feeling it. I can only describe it as this amazing and cavernous emptiness I’m floating at the center of and that I found completely terrifying at first, like I wanted to die, but now I’m not so sure. There’s something about it that drives me crazy. Do you know what I mean? Do you know what I’m talking about?

We know any feeling, even if identical in physical sensation, can never quite tell the same story in another. Still, Fan did understand the feeling, though she told Betty she wasn’t sure, not wanting to say that she’d always had it, even when she was back in B-Mor, even when she held Reg’s hand tightly in hers while they were walking in the park. She was as free as she had believed, and always had been. Only in leaving was it confirmed.

Betty had wanted to stay out a little longer, maybe even take a ride somewhere, make it an entire girls’ day, but it was nearing dinnertime and Liwei would be anxious to get the evening meal going. With the project now essentially done and the pool and gym plans just now in development, he and Betty had more than ample time to devote themselves to those aspects of home life they considered vitally important, from the nurturing of Josey and the twins, to best environmental practices regarding their household’s resource use and waste, to of course what the family ate. Eating was obviously elementary, it was what people did most of in their day, literally taking in the world, and in this area Liwei took a particularly intensive interest, not so much from a gastronomic angle about how things should taste but rather with the idea that each of them — even the babies — should take part in the production of the meal, from the selection of the ingredients at the village market to the chopping and measuring and cooking (the babies given a strong whiff of everything, from ginger slices to cinnamon sticks, after which they’d sometimes cry), the idea being a holistic appreciation through mindful exertions that would result in the best chance for well-being. Frankly, it was often a bit of a circus, the meals never coming out quite right because everybody at every stage had to take her turn, and it was fortunate they still had enough helpers about to mop up the rampant messes, especially if Josey got ahold of the mixing bowl.

It was not difficult for Fan to see that these intricate domestic efforts Oliver and Betty were now directing themselves toward were a constructive means of siphoning off energies that might otherwise go toward arguing or stewing or avoiding each other in the big but now more compartmentalized house. And she assumed this: Betty was still in regular touch with Vik. As far as she could tell, they didn’t meet in person, they couldn’t possibly, for how busy and full the Cheungs’ house schedule was, and with the family being almost always together. But Betty had a second handscreen that slipped out of her handbag in the car and which Fan found beneath her front passenger seat and replaced, Betty zipping up her bag even as she drove. She was grateful that Betty had not divulged any more to her, too, as it would have dragged her anew into the ethical quandary that was finally rendered moot after the incident at the pool. For although she did not know him very well yet, Oliver was Liwei and Liwei was her blood and his pitiable position made her feel she still knew too much, her chest giving the smallest heave whenever just the three of them were together, usually after putting Josey on the preschool shuttle.

The funny thing was that Fan was spending much more time with Oliver than with her, perhaps to limit the chances that Betty, wine-soaked, might want to engage in a certain heart-to-heart, perhaps to figure out if she truly liked him, or could ever feel for him what she did for the others of the household back in B-Mor, that somehow remarkably uncomplicated love that one need rarely express or demonstrate. The Cheungs as well as their friends believed deeply in demonstrations, the minute-by-minute acting out and temperature taking of respect and admiration and devotion, though with Fan, Oliver seemed to be reverting to what he must have been like when he was back with the clan, the two of them now hardly much talking at all while they were busy in the kitchen, or listening to the architect explain the details of the newest plans, or watching Josey do her little-girl cartwheels across the shiny new street, her rear arcing higher than her legs.

He didn’t have to tell Fan he was enjoying or appreciating her company, for if he was or not, it didn’t seem to matter as much as his simply being with her, or if not near her, having a clear notion of where she was. It was enough for him to walk into Josey’s room and see them playing dolls, and he wouldn’t even nod or say hello, just noting it as part of how his people were lodged in the house. Nor had he spoken of what happened at the pool or did he seem to have noticed anything unusual about her after she came out of the water. For isn’t that what we like best about being in our household, having a picture of auntie and uncle up there in the garret, and cousins out in the front, and a brother and nephew across the hall, not having to dwell too much on who they are but instead pointedly feeling their array, the same sense our primordial predecessors must have had when returning at dusk and gazing up into the umbrella tree. It’s not always a perfectly wonderful feeling but it is ours, going forward and back.