Huanying! Welcome to Shanghai, China. The place of all the peculiarities. Where everyone have their own stories about the families living there, especially the Xu's. Their ancestral house that they own for many generations have an infamous garden w...
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The Lee's mansion looked the same as Mei remembered. He could probably walk up to Dominic's bedroom with his eyes closed, even now. When they spent time alone in these mansion, Mei pretends that they lived together here. They would just lie in bed and talks about their future plans. But when Dominic broke up with Mei at graduation, he just said, "I thought you understood,"
Mei didn't understand then, but he did now. He understood now that he loved Dominic, and he was probably the only man he'd ever love like that, with such hope. He understood now that he would always have left Shanghai, whether or not it was with Dominic. Mei understood now that Dominic hadn't been able to accept him for what he was. He understood that part best of all, because even him, hadn't been able to do that.
The housekeeper meet them and introduced herself as Betty. She was in her forties and her black hair was so shiny and straight that it barely moved, which only meant she hated mistakes.
"The flowers have already been delivered. I was told to wait to arrange them until you arrived," Betty said. "When you finish unloading, I'll be on the patio. Do you know where that is?"
"Yes," Mei replied as Betty disappeared through the swinging door of the pantry. "I liked Vina better," Mei added.
"Who is Vina?" Timmy asked
"The old housekeeper,"
"Oh," was all Timmy could say.
As soon as everything is in and the necessary things refrigerated, Mei led Timmy through the house to the patio. Mrs. Lee had been proud of her antiques, that is why Mei was surprised to find the house now was just so... pink? There were rose wallpapers in the dining room, and the chairs at the dining table had pale pink upholstery. The family room opened out of the dining room, and it was a riot of pink florals on the couch cushions and rugs.
They saw Betty standing at the longer tables for food, surrounded by empty vases and buckets of flowers.
Timmy went to Betty, but Mei couldn't move. Mei felt light-headed. It's like his fantasy coming true. From the linens, buffet tables, flowers and all. Standing there, he could remember so clearly what it felt like to be a part of it, to be part of something, to know he belonged somewhere.
Even if it had all been a lie.
Mei crossed his arms over his chest and watched a maid put candles in tall glass hurricane lamps on each of the tables. Mei listened distantly as Timmy told Betty where the roses and the fuchsia and the gladioli should be placed on the tables.
"Gladioli here," Timmy said, "where the nutmeg stuffing in the squash blossoms and the fennel chicken will be. Roses here, where the rose-petal scones will go."
It was all so intricate, a manipulative plan to make the guests feel something they might not feel otherwise. It didn't seem at all like Mrs. Lee. Yet Timmy had spent the better part of the evening yesterday discussing the menu on the phone with Mrs. Lee. Mei made up an excuse to be in the kitchen and he could hear Timmy in the storeroom saying things like, "and nutmeg and cinnamon means prosperity,"
