Crazy Rich Asians (40 page)

“I’m in the Department of Economics, and I teach at the under-grad level.”

“And how much do you get paid a year?” Nadine inquired.

Rachel was dumbstruck.

“Aiyah, Mummy, to Americans, it’s very rude to ask how much somebody makes,” Francesca
said at last, clearly delighting in seeing Rachel squirm.

“Oh, is it? I was just curious to know how much a college teacher in America could
possibly earn,” Nadine said in her most innocent tone.

“Would you ever consider working in Asia?” Daisy asked.

Rachel paused. It seemed like a pretty loaded question, and she
figured that the group would dissect whatever answer she gave. “Of course, if the
right opportunity came along,” she finally replied.

The ladies exchanged furtive looks, while Philip slurped on his soup.

After dinner, as the group adjourned to the living room for coffee and dessert, Astrid
abruptly announced that she had to leave.

“Are you okay?” Nick asked. “You seem a little out of sorts tonight.”

“I’m fine … I just got a text from Evangeline that Cassian is staging a coup and refusing
to sleep, so I better dash off.” In reality, Evangeline had informed her that Michael
had stopped by and was reading Cassian a bedtime story. DO NOT LET HIM LEAVE, Astrid
frantically texted back.

Nick and Rachel decided to seize this opportunity to make an exit as well, pleading
fatigue from a long day of travel.

As soon as the elevator had closed on them, Eleanor announced, “Did you see the way
that girl was staring at everything around the flat?”

“Darling, you’ve spent a year decorating. Of course people are going to stare—isn’t
that the whole point?” Philip interjected as he helped himself to a large slice of
chocolate banana cake.

“Philip, that little economist brain of hers was busy calculating the value of everything.
You could see her adding everything up with her big bulging eyes. And all that talk
about cooking for Nick. What rot! As if that’s going to impress me, knowing that she
puts her rough peasant hands all over his food!”

“Well, you’re in fine form tonight, darling,” Philip said. “Frankly, I found her to
be very pleasant, and her features quite nice.” He was careful to emphasize the word
quite
, knowing that his wife would fly into even more of a jealous fit at the thought of
another woman in her vicinity being unequivocally proclaimed a beauty.

“I have to agree with Philip. She was really quite pretty. Whether you care to admit
it, Eleanor, your son at least has good taste,” Daisy said, as she scrutinized the
maid pouring her caffe latte.

“Really? You think she’s as pretty as Astrid?” Eleanor asked.

“Astrid is a sultry, tempestuous beauty. This one is totally different. She has a
simpler, more placid beauty,” Daisy observed.

“But don’t you think she’s a little flat-chested?” Eleanor said.

Philip sighed. There was just no winning with his wife. “Well, good night everyone.
It’s time for my
CSI: Miami
,” he said, getting up from the sofa and making a beeline for his media room. Francesca
waited for him to round the corner before she spoke.

“Well, I for one think you are completely right about this girl, Auntie Elle. I spent
the whole weekend with Rachel, and I saw her true colors. First of all, she picked
out the most expensive dresses from the resort boutique when she found out that Araminta
was paying. She was wearing one of them tonight.”

“That plain lilac dress?
Alamak
, she has no taste!” Nadine exclaimed.

Francesca continued her assault. “Then, she spent all of yesterday taking different
classes at the resort—yoga, Pilates, Nia, you name it. It was as if she was trying
to avoid us and get her money’s worth at the spa. And you should have heard her at
dinner—she boldly announced that she went after Nicky because he is such a catch.
Actually, I think her exact words were ‘he’s a TOTAL catch.’ ”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, can you imagine!” Nadine said, shuddering openly.

“LeaLea, what are you going to do now that you’ve met her?” Carol asked.

“I think this girl needs to be sent packing. All you have to do is say the word, Auntie
Elle, and as I told you, it would be my pleasure to help,” Francesca said, giving
Eleanor a meaningful look.

Eleanor took a few moments to answer, stirring her decaf cappuccino purposefully.
She had been in a state of panic for weeks, but now that she had finally met this
Rachel Chu, a preternatural calm had settled over her. She could see what needed to
be done, and she knew she had to proceed covertly. She had witnessed firsthand the
scars that blatant parental interference could inflict; why, even those assembled
here were a reminder of that—Daisy’s relationship with her sons was tenuous at best,
while Lorena’s eldest daughter no longer spoke to her after immigrating to Auckland
with her Kiwi husband.

“Thank you, Francesca. You are always so helpful,” Eleanor finally said. “For now,
I don’t think we need to do anything. We should all just sit back and watch, because
things are about to get interesting.”

“You’re right, Elle—there’s no need to rush into anything.
Besides, after Shenzhen, all the cards are in your hand,” Lorena said gleefully as
she scraped away the frosting from her cake.

“What happened in Shenzhen?” Francesca asked eagerly.

Eleanor ignored Francesca’s question and smiled. “I might not even have to play the
Shenzhen card. Let’s not forget, all the Youngs and the Shangs are about to descend
on Singapore for the Khoo wedding.”

“Oh-ho! Who wants to bet she doesn’t even last through the weekend?” Nadine cackled.

Tyersall Park

“Colin and I would speed down this slope on our bikes, hands in the air, seeing who
could go the farthest without touching the handlebars,” Nick said as they were driven
up the long winding driveway to Tyersall Park. Arriving here with Nick was an entirely
different experience for Rachel from her first time with Peik Lin. For starters, Nick’s
grandmother had sent a gorgeous vintage Daimler to pick them up, and this time Nick
was pointing things out along the way.

“See that enormous rambutan tree? Colin and I tried to build a tree house in it. We
spent three days working in secret, but then Ah Ma found out and was furious. She
didn’t want anything to ruin her precious rambutan fruit and forced us to dismantle
it. Colin was so pissed off, he decided to pluck down as many of the rambutans as
he could.”

Rachel laughed. “You guys got into quite a bit of trouble, didn’t you?”

“Yep—we were always getting into scrapes. I remember there was one
kampong
^*
nearby we would sneak into to steal baby chickens.”

“Little rascals! Where was the adult supervision?”

“What adult supervision?”

The car pulled up to the porte cochere, and several servants emerged from a side door
to remove their luggage from the trunk. The Indian butler came down the front steps
to greet them.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Young, Miss Chu. Mrs. Young is expecting you for tea. She’s in
the star-fruit grove.”

“Thanks, Sanjit, we’ll head there now,” Nick said. He guided Rachel past the red flagstone
terrace and down a graceful allée, where white acanthus and colorful bursts of hibiscus
mingled with lavish thickets of Egyptian papyrus.

“These gardens are even more glorious in the daytime,” Rachel remarked, running her
fingers along the row of papyrus stalks swaying gently in the breeze. Enormous dragonflies
buzzed about, their wings sparkling in the sunlight.

“Remind me to show you the lily pond. We have these enormous lily pads there—
Victoria amazonica
, the largest in the world. You can practically sunbathe on them!”

As they approached the grove, a most curious sight awaited Rachel: Nick’s ninety-something-year-old
grandmother stood at the top of a wooden ladder that leaned precariously against the
trunk of a tall star-fruit tree, painstakingly fussing over some plastic bags. Two
gardeners stood at the foot of the rickety ladder, holding it steady, while a Gurkha
and the two Thai lady’s maids looked on placidly.

“Sweet Jesus, she’s going to fall off that ladder and break her neck!” Rachel said
in alarm.

“This is Ah Ma’s thing. There’s no stopping her,” Nick said with a grin.

“But what exactly is she doing?”

“She inspects every single one of the young star fruits and wraps each of them in
their own plastic bags. The humidity helps them to ripen and protects them from birds.”

“Why doesn’t she let one of the gardeners do it?”

“She loves doing it herself—she does this with her guavas too.”

Rachel stared up at Nick’s grandmother, immaculately dressed in a crisply pleated
yellow gardening smock, and marveled at her dexterity. Su Yi looked down, noticing
that she had a new audience, and said in Mandarin, “One minute—I just have two more
to do.”

When Nick’s grandmother had safely descended the ladder
(much to Rachel’s relief), the group proceeded down another pathway that led to a
formal French walled garden where a profusion of African blue lilies were planted
amid perfectly manicured boxwood hedges. In the middle of the garden stood a jewellike
conservatory that appeared to have been transported straight out of the English countryside.

“This is where Ah Ma cultivates her prizewinning orchid hybrids,” Nick informed Rachel.

“Wow,” was all Rachel could say as she entered the greenhouse. Hundreds of orchid
plants hung on different levels throughout the space, their subtle sweetness permeating
the air. Rachel had never seen this many varieties—from intricate spider orchids and
vividly colored vandas to the magnificent cattleyas and almost indecently suggestive
slipper orchids. Tucked in the middle of all this was a round table that appeared
to have been carved out of a single block of blue malachite. Its base consisted of
four majestically fierce griffins facing in different directions, each poised to take
flight.

As they made themselves comfortable on the cushioned wrought-iron chairs, a trio of
servers appeared as if on cue, bearing an enormous five-tiered silver tray laden with
delectable
nyonya kuehs
, finger sandwiches, gemlike
pâte de fruits
, and fluffy golden-brown scones. A tea cart was rolled toward them by one of the
Thai lady’s maids, and Rachel felt like she was hallucinating as she watched the maiden
delicately pouring freshly steeped tea from a teapot intricately carved with multicolored
dragons. She had never seen a more sumptuous tea service in her life.

“Here are my grandmother’s famous scones—dig in,” Nick said gleefully, licking his
lips.

The scones were still warm as Rachel broke one apart and slathered it with a generous
helping of clotted cream, just as she’d learned from Nick. She was about to put some
of the strawberry jam onto the scone when Su Yi said in Mandarin, “You should try
it with some of the lemon curd. My cook makes it fresh every day.” Rachel didn’t feel
like she was in a position to defy her hostess, so she scooped on some lemon curd
and took her first bite. It was pure heaven—the buttery lightness of the pastry combined
with the decadent cream and the smooth hint of sweet lemon made for a perfect alchemy
of flavors.