Epilogue
A
lex and I had our small but cozy wedding ceremony in a small church in lower Manhattan. Besides Lingzi Lee, Frank Luce, Donna Adler, and their respective spouses and children, we only invited a few other people including, of course, my agent and my editor, as well as a few friends and classmates. Frank, and especially Donna, seemed to have gotten over their animosity toward me. After the service they went up to congratulate us.
Donna pecked my cheek, then smiled her heavily made-up smile. “Lily, take very good care of Alex for us. He’s still a child.”
I nodded.
Frank gave me a bear hug, adding, “My son, what a lucky man!”
I nodded again, my eyes brimming with tears.
Three days after the wedding, Lingzi went back to Taiwan. Unmoved by our constant pleadings, she adamantly refused to stay.
“Life here is not for me. You two live very well, no fights, no drinking, and no cheating, eh? Also, give me grandchildren, quick! Besides, I’m getting old, I don’t want to be a ghost wandering in foreign land.”
We chuckled.
“One day, you two bring your little ones to visit me in Taiwan.”
After the wedding, I finally settled down to begin writing again—in fact to finish my second book, which was actually the first one, my coming-of-age-family-saga novel. Alex went back to graduate school in Columbia’s East Asian Studies Program. To honor our encounter, he chose the history of Silk Road travel as the subject of his thesis.
“But I doubt anyone will ever read it after the huge success of your memoir.” He smiled.
Then he looked at me seriously. “Do you really have the
yin
eye, Lily?”
I nodded. “Sometimes. But I need to meditate hard and channel all my energies to open it. The Silk Road has a thousand years’ worth of spirits, but here there are not so many. Anyway, now I am interested in the living, not the dead. So, I don’t want to do this anymore. But I will send some money to Keku.”
“Excellent idea!” Alex enthused.
One rainy day, after a meeting with my editor in midtown, I waited for a taxi in the heavy downpour. My one hand frantically waved at any yellow passing cars while my other hand held a wind-battered umbrella. Finally, a cab appeared in front of me. When I was about to open the door, a soaked and disheveled man tried to grab the taxi away from me.
“Asshole!” I screamed.
He turned, and I couldn’t believe who it was.
A down-and-out Chris!
“Chris, what are you doing here in the rain without an umbrella?!” I yelled.
He looked so embarrassed that his face turned the color of a tomato. “Oh, Lily, I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to . . .”
“But you did.”
“I just got a call from Preston’s babysitter telling me that Jenny’s sick, so I . . .”
“No need to explain. Is she OK?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m in such a hurry.”
“So you’re still . . .”
“Yes, we’re still married, if that’s what you want to know.”
“So am I now.”
“I know. I read about you.”
“OK then, go ahead, back to your wife and kid. But I suspect Jenny will recover now that I am out of your life.”
I waved to the pathetic face I’d once found so irresistible. “Good-bye.”
“Take care, Lily.”
“You bet.”
Back home I didn’t bother to tell Alex—who was busy cooking in the kitchen—about the accidental meeting, but took out Master Soaring Crane’s last pouch and read:
Maintain the balance of
yin
and
yang
and everything will last.
Then my husband came out to sit down with me. As he rested his head on my lap, he placed his hand on my stomach, feeling the someone inside me kicking.
I wondered, Would our little he or she have as many adventures as Alex and I did on the way to true love?
Anyway, we’d find out in twenty or thirty long—or short—years.