Reclaiming Lily (12 page)

A force akin to a million volts of electricity zapped the particles of air in the room. Kai could not breathe, could not think, could do nothing except stare at flared nostrils, a mouth smeared with purplish-black lipstick, a creamy complexion marred by angry acne breakouts, hair thick as First Daughter’s but cheapened by garish dye.

Kai’s hands fell limp into her lap. The pain, the distrust, the distance in this room . . . it could slay a hundred families. If fate did not intervene, it would surely slay this fragile American mother, whose composure and gait were deteriorating.

Kai leapt to her feet.
Perhaps I did not catch something earlier.
With effort, she ignored Joy. “Mrs. Powell. Please sit here.” Kai guided the mother into a chair while assessing her breathing and general condition: skin pale, cool, slightly clammy; breathing normal. Kai then found Gloria’s radial pulse. Mildly tachycardic. Not surprising. Yet combined with her earlier fainting—

“Who is that?” Lily emitted the most obnoxious shriek Kai had ever heard.

As Kai stood frozen, life hovered in a state of inertia. She could not have moved . . . even with the help of the fates.

A chair—the young policewoman’s?—scraped, a sound that made Kai grind her teeth. She tried—failed—to raise her head. To be here, to see this, after so much hope, so many trials, and to know she could do nothing to help, was unbearable!

“That, my dear Joy, is your sister, who has traveled across time and space to find you.” It was the reverend, who had found his calm voice. “Her name is Dr. Chang Kai.”

It took every trial Kai had endured, every procedure she had been taught, to lift her head and meet her sister’s eyes.
If my presence in any way wounds you, dear child, blood of my ancestors, may the fates strike me dead.

“My sister?” A strange lilt infused Lily’s voice. So like dear Third Daughter’s, Mother’s . . . Lily had inherited their sense of melody!

Their eyes locked.

Waves of tenderness muddled Kai’s balance. She grabbed for the table. Stared into the eyes of that innocent baby. Eyes like her own. She wobbled toward the one she had sought.

Joy minced forward in those boots, then clicked to a stop. Indifference frosted her eyes. She cocked her head, shoved her hands in the pockets of shredded jeans. “My sister?” A glacial floe had chilled her lilt. “Why are you here now?” She threw back her shoulders. A beaded choker rattled against collarbones exposed by a low-cut top. “Where have you been all these years?”

Kai bit her lip against a torrent of words that might surge like a wave and sweep them away.
Dear child, where shall I start? When Father agreed that Mother did not have to abort you? Where shall I end? One minute ago, when a glance at your face made my life worth living . . . but nearly killed me?
The denim-and-lace vision that broke Kai’s heart . . . and made her whole . . . blurred into blues and whites.

The policewoman made her way to Joy and held out her hand. “I’m Nicole, the Juvenile Division officer who’ll work with y’all.”

If Joy heard, she gave no sign of it.

Nicole joined Officer Robbins, who stood by the door. “It looks like y’all could use a minute together. Take five. Maybe ten. We’ll be right over there.” Nicole pointed through the glass door. “In a waiting room.”

Joy dangled her hands. “You’re going to leave me in here with them?”

“It’s either that or book you.” Officer Robbins jingled those keys. “Fingerprints, a mug shot, the whole shebang.”

Nicole harrumphed and laid a hand on Joy’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Just take a minute. Straighten things out.” Gray eyes seemed to land on each of them, then settled on Joy. “We want what’s best for everyone, Joy. Especially you.”

“Yeah, right,” Joy muttered, but her voice had lost its edge.

Perhaps sensing familial fireworks, the officers scurried away, leaving Kai with Andrew, Gloria, Joy, and the deafening roar of silence. As Kai took her seat, unable to do anything else, she begged the fates to whisper her next move. The axis that spun Joy’s world, the Powells’ world, her world, depended on their help!

The fates—oh, those capricious things . . . hateful one moment, joyful the next—refused to answer.

7

“Like, what in . . . is going on?” Joy raked her hands through her latest dye job, which was red-purple, black-purple, purple-hideous.

At the sound of cursing, Gloria clutched her stomach, which roiled with abandon. “Joy . . .” she began. Bleary, narrowed eyes and a chin-dimpling smirk halted further words.

Instead, Gloria made a list of her faults. She hadn’t exposed Joy to her culture. She’d changed the subject when Joy asked about her “other” family. That last time China had been mentioned, as Joy’s runaway destination, Gloria had diluted Joy’s angst with words about counseling. About God.

Joy doesn’t want—or need—my words
. Gloria sealed her lips and prayed that her stomach—and her heart—would settle.

“Joy, just calm down, okay?” Gloria noted how Andrew’s gentle voice and godly demeanor soothed Joy.
He builds a bridge to Joy while I flounder on the shore.
If anyone could revitalize this teenage wasteland—their family’s wasteland—it would be her Andrew.

“Recently your sister—Dr. Kai, here—contacted us.”

“Like, how recently?”

“Last week,” Andrew continued.

Curses again stained the air. Gloria hugged herself, as if warding off the vile words. When had Joy begun talking like this,
thinking
like this?

“
My sister
contacted you
last week
? Like,
seven days
ago? I’m the last to know?”

“We planned to tell you, Joy.”

“Like, when? Next century?”

“Perhaps I can explain things” came from behind her. It was Kai.

Gloria swallowed a bitter taste . . . a bitter truth. Never had a voice infused such concern, such humility. To think, two hours ago, she’d . . .
hated
Kai.

“I’m listening.” Joy planted her hands on her hips, tapped her boot toe, and eyed her sister with curiosity. “If you’ll step on it, that is.”

Again Gloria tried to swallow the frustration and bitterness Joy’s words evoked, but this time, it didn’t budge. Suddenly she whirled from Joy, scrunched her shoulders, and clamped both hands over her mouth. Too late. She heaved, unable to hold back the contents of her stomach.

“Mrs. Powell.” Kai, a sudden hovering presence, offered a paper towel, murmured kindnesses, and led her back to her chair. Andrew, with similar ministrations, helped her sit, took another towel from Kai, and cleaned off her hands.

Gloria kept darting glances toward the mess on the floor, the mess on her hands, the mess she’d made with Joy, the mess she’d made with Joy’s new relative . . .
Oh, God, I’ve majored in messes!

Kai knelt beside Gloria’s chair. “It is nothing. Someone will tend to it later.”

Tears blurred the chiseled features, the expressive eyes in this older version of Joy. Gloria nodded and tried to relax. Kai had taken control. It felt so good, so right, to place her trust in this woman.

Kai handed her another damp towel. “Here. This will feel good.”

It did.

Again Kai checked Gloria’s pulse. “Reverend, your wife needs to be seen. Please contact her physician. I suspect it’s a virus, but let’s be sure.” Kai massaged Gloria’s back with circular motions that strangely lessened the ache in her belly . . . and her heart. Each touch brought insight. Kai truly ministered through medicine . . . and compassion.

“But the police . . . Joy . . .” Andrew spoke in a pained, most un-Andrewlike voice.

“The officers haven’t moved a muscle. See?” Pointing out the window, Kai reflected a calm that eluded the Powells. “You can apprise them of the situation. With this, on top of the earlier fainting spell, your wife must be seen.”

“Mom? You fainted?”

Concern laced Joy’s screech.
Thank goodness she doesn’t totally hate me. In the midst of this mess, I’ve been gifted another blessing
.

“You can drive your wife to her doctor.” Smooth-talking Kai addressed Andrew as if Joy hadn’t interrupted. “There’s no need for an ambulance.”

Gloria jerked upright. “I can’t leave Joy here! It’s just an upset stomach!”

“I do not believe that is the case.” Kai’s comforting smile had set into stone. “I am concerned about you, Mrs. Powell. You need to see your physician.” Her dark eyes narrowed. “If you are not . . . amenable. . . to my suggestion, I will ask the officers to call an ambulance. Liability concerns and health regulations will have them racing each other to the phone.”

“Mom!” As Joy waved her arms, purple hair slapped her cheeks. “Just, like, go!”

“Joy’s in good hands here.” Andrew knelt on the other side of Gloria.

Gloria battled the urge to leap from the chair and slap them all silly for ignoring her right—her duty—as a mother to stay here. Whether Joy liked it or not.

“Trust me, Gloria. It is the right thing to do.” Kai’s lips had parted; the eyes were soft with compassion.

Gloria bowed her head, then lifted her chin and tried to mask her emotions. It seemed to work for Kai, who had nonchalantly pulled out a cell phone and offered it to Andrew. “Call her doctor. Now.”

“Patrice Davies on West Berry,” Gloria mumbled, just in case Andrew’s brain had rusted, like his jaws. “I’d rather go to her than Carl.”
Less embarrassing with a woman . . .

Andrew returned the phone to Kai, who said, “I’ll check in later. Dr. Davies may have questions.”

“All right.” Andrew moved to Joy, held out his arms, and then let them drop when she didn’t budge. “I’ll be back, sweetie, okay?”

Joy rolled her eyes and sighed, but the nervous jangling of a dozen bangle bracelets betrayed her nonchalant act.

“You’ll be fine,” assured Kai.

As Andrew left to update the officers, Gloria’s stomach roiled again.
I won’t be fine until Joy’s fine
. “I love you,” she whispered, though Joy had turned away, as if entranced by something across the room. Her newfound sister?

Kai stepped close. Gripped Gloria’s arms. “I will take care of your daughter.”

Gloria squeezed Kai’s hand in appreciation, then got to her feet, hugged the teenaged statue, and stepped away. “I’ll be back—we’ll be back—as soon as we can.” She managed to smile despite the space between her and Joy, which was three linear feet, though a million emotional miles. “You hear, Joy? Everything will be okay.”

Joy’s mouth fell open.

Is she that shocked that I’m hopeful?
Gloria felt her lip quiver, but it wasn’t because Joy was in jail or because her stomach was cramping. How long had it been since she’d presented Joy with anything but a smothering anxiety under the guise of concern? Gloria dug her nails into her palms.
Be still and wait,
she prayed, then spread her hands and stared at the indentations. She’d had this hand-digging habit all her life. The anxiety too. How many habits must she shed before the three of them again became a family?

Andrew returned to the room. “The cops freaked out when they heard about what happened. If we don’t go now, they’ll call the EMTs.”

Again Gloria hugged her daughter. For the briefest moment, Joy pressed against her. A minor miracle. The first of many? As Andrew led her from the room, that was her prayer.

“Joy . . .” Kai inched closer, mustering techniques she’d honed to treat children petrified of doctors, their needles, and the pain they inflicted. She could not wound this child who possessed Father’s brow, Mother’s lips, First Daughter’s lustrous hair . . .

Kai blinked. This child had knife-sharp eyes, a sneer the size of Beijing, and was shouldering Mount Tai–sized boulders on her petite frame.
Go slow. Lay a foundation
. Kai forced her eager feet to stop two meters from her youngest sister. “It is an honor to meet you.” Kai extended her hand in the American way. “How I have longed for this moment.”

Glistening pools of pain—of curiosity?—met her gaze and held it. “You longed for it?” Joy finally asked.

“With all my heart.”

Joy crossed her arms and stood motionless. The door framed her as if she were a still life of a rebellious teenager, with her grungy jeans, goth haircut, heavily lined eyes, black blouse cut low enough to expose red bra straps, bra cups edged with lace. Joy desperately wanted to be noticed . . . or loved. Dared Kai hope it was the latter?

“Then why did it take you so long to get here?”

Kai recoiled as if the question had grown fangs and bitten her. Of course she had expected it, but that did not lessen the shock of being spewed with both spit and hate. Kai forced rhythmic breaths. Her muscles began to relax, her thought patterns to settle. Joy did not know the mountains she had climbed, the valleys she had traversed, to reach this point.
She surely suspects abandonment . . . or worse.
Kai resettled her gaze on the face of her sister.

“Why?” Joy swore. “Why won’t you answer me? Can’t you at least give me that much?”

Tell the truth.