Confucius Jane (27 page)

Sutton led her toward the door and out into the night. The temperature was mild for late March, but still too cool to be wearing only a tank top, even for Jane. Once she had shrugged back into her shirt, Sutton linked their arms together.

“How old is Min again?”

“Eleven. Why?”

“You're going to need to have a talk with her.”

“About?”

“About the fact that she has a crush on an eighteen-year-old.”

Jane's expression was the very definition of incredulous, and Sutton wished her phone was handy for a snapshot. “You're kidding me. Giovanni?”

“From the moment you introduced him, she became a homing beacon.”

“Really?” Jane shook her head. “I've never seen her behave that way. Or even talk about boys. Which is good. She's so young!”

“Stop panicking. It's just a crush.” When they paused at a stoplight, Sutton rested her head briefly against Jane's shoulder. “Besides, I'm pretty sure he didn't notice her existence on the planet.”

“But that's not good, either. She'll get her heart broken! You know Min—she's incredibly bright and annoyingly snarky, but deep down, she's still just a kid who can get her feelings hurt as easily as anyone else. What should I do?”

Sutton had to bite her lip in order to keep herself from laughing. Jane, who was one of the most laid-back people she had ever met, was acting like an overprotective sibling and a hapless matchmaker all at once. She had quite suddenly become neurotic. It was completely endearing.

“Just listen if she wants to talk to you about it.”

“That's it?”

“Well, you could always give her the full court press and see how well that works.”

“Point taken.” Jane let out a sigh as she unlocked the front door to Confucius Fortunes and held it so Sutton could pass by.

The sensation of her phone buzzing brought her up short, and as she fished it out, she looked down at the display. Mom. For a moment, her thumb hovered over the
ACCEPT
button, but then she slid the phone back into her pocket. Her mother hadn't reached out all week, but had decided to call during their usual dinner time? That seemed like a guilt trip, and Sutton wasn't about to indulge her.

“Sure you don't want to take it?” Jane asked quietly.

Sutton shook her head. “I want to spend an enjoyable evening with your family. I'll call her back later.”

Jane kissed her gently. “Okay.”

As they ascended the stairs, Sutton tried to put her mother out of her mind, at least for the next few hours. She wanted to learn more about Jane's family, and perhaps even coax an embarrassing story or two out of them. They probably hadn't gotten to see Jane much while she was growing up, but surely they had something on her.

When Jane unlocked the door to the apartment, the first thing Sutton heard were the children's voices. High-pitched and raised in some kind of screeching exclamation, they echoed down the hallway to pierce her ears. She shook her head wryly as she thought of Sue's admonition not to conceive in the coming year. There was truly no danger of that. Her maternal instinct hadn't remotely kicked in yet.

Jane turned to her with a grin. “Sounds like Hester's brood is here.”

“How old are her kids?”

“Four and two.” Jane must have seen a hint of panic in her face, because she patted her on the back. “Don't worry. No one will make you change the little one's diaper.”

“Excuse me, do you have any idea how many times I've sutured surgical incisions? And you think I can't change a diaper?”

“I didn't say that. Did I say that? No.” Jane held up her hands as she moved down the hall. “Come on. Before you kill me.”

As they moved down the hallway past the now-familiar photographs, Sutton debated asking whether Jane wanted children to be a part of her future but then thought better of it. The question seemed too intimate.

“Min, is that you?”

“No, Aunt Jen, it's Jane. And Sutton.”

They emerged into the kitchen, which was at least five degrees hotter than the corridor and smelled heavenly. Sutton recognized soy sauce and garlic, but there were a few other scents she couldn't quite place. A very pregnant woman with long, glossy black hair was sitting at the table, and Sutton was struck by how much her facial features resembled Jenny's. A slender man sat beside her, one hand encircling her shoulders. His kind, weary smile welcomed them inside.

Jenny set down her spatula on the stovetop and hurried over. “We're so glad you're joining us tonight, Sutton,” she said as she leaned in for a quick hug, careful to keep her bespattered “I <3 NY” apron away from Sutton's shirt. “Have you ever met my oldest daughter, Hester? And this is her husband, Allan.”

But before Sutton could shake anyone's hands, another chorus of high-pitched shouts erupted from the adjacent room. Seconds later, two small boys, one a few inches taller than the other, careened around the corner and into the kitchen followed by John, who was looming over them, pretending to be a monster. He stopped as soon as he saw Sutton.

“Dr. Sutton! So good to see you.”

“And these are their rabble-rousing kids,” Jane said over the hubbub. Sutton turned to the sight of her kneeling on the floor, each arm wrapped around a wriggling small boy. “Allan Junior and Sam.”

As the boys shrieked in pretend terror, Jane deposited a loud, smacking kiss on each forehead and then released them. They immediately crowded around Hester, while Allan Senior tried in vain to quiet them down. Sutton watched Jane look after them, a fond smile on her face. Of course she was a natural with children. She had the perfect temperament for them.

“Boys, boys, boys,” Jenny called, clapping her hands. “Don't you have pillow forts to build with Gong Gong in the family room?”

“‘Gong Gong' is the Chinese phrase for maternal grandfather,” Jane explained.

“We're all done!” Allan Junior said.

“Then it's time to build Lego forts inside the pillow forts. Right, Gong Gong?” Jenny gave John a look that clearly indicated his sole purpose in life right now was to get his grandkids out of the kitchen.

“Right. Boys, you heard Po Po. Let's go!”

“‘Po Po' is Chinese for—”

“Let me guess. Maternal grandmother.”

Jane caressed her lower back with a light touch. “You're a quick one, Double Doctor.”

As John led the boys back into the adjoining room, Sutton moved toward the stove. “It smells fantastic in here. How can I help?”

“You should sit. Relax.”

“No, really, put us to work.” Sutton smiled. “Do you have anything that needs chopping? I have good hands.”

“In that case, you can slice the mushrooms into narrow strips. Jane, you can cut the cabbage. And where is Minetta?”

“At Sue's. I'll text her.”

After being supplied with a sharp knife and a cutting board, Sutton carefully began chopping the black mushrooms. Jane stood next to her, and every once in a while, their hips bumped lightly. Min walked in the door a few minutes later, and Cornelia came down from her room where she had been studying for an exam the next day. Carmine was the last to arrive, and the only sister Sutton had yet to meet. She had her father's eyes and nose, but the outgoing disposition and businesslike mannerisms of her mother.

“Carmine's going to take over Confucius Fortunes one day,” Jane said as she introduced them. “She's in business school right now at Stern.”

“I take classes at night,” Carmine clarified, “and help Mom and Dad during the day.”

“You sound busy,” Sutton said. “And if you're the heir apparent, does that mean you know the secret recipe?”

Carmine laughed. “If I say yes, will you hold me hostage for it?”

“I might. Those are honestly the best fortune cookies I've ever tasted.”

“Dinner's ready!” Jenny's shout produced a stampede for the table, and Sutton pressed her back against the counter to stay out of the way. “Cornelia and Minetta, go get some extra chairs,” Jenny added when it became clear there weren't nearly enough.

Jane grabbed a stack of plates from the cupboard and began handing them to her aunt, who scooped a generous serving of noodles mixed with pork, cabbage, and mushroom onto each. Sutton moved to Jenny's other side and began dispensing the loaded plates around the table. The boys wanted to start eating right away, and Hester was patiently trying to explain the concept of waiting politely. When everyone had been served, Sutton finally squeezed in next to Jane, proud that she'd had a hand in creating the meal.

“There's plenty more, so don't be shy,” Jenny announced as she sat down at the table's head.

“Pass the dumplings, please,” John said from the other end.

Sutton lifted a forkful of the noodles to her mouth and chewed slowly, savoring them. They were just the slightest bit crispy, and the combination of flavors was delicious. “This is wonderful, Jenny,” she called out over the buzz of conversation. “Thank you.”

“Oh good, I'm happy you like it. Thank you for the help.”

“Try it with some sriracha sauce,” Jane said, handing her a red squeeze bottle labeled in Chinese characters. “But not too much. It's hot.”

As she continued to eat, Sutton looked around the crowded table, marveling at the controlled chaos. Allan Senior was giving his namesake pointers on how to use chopsticks, while Hester cradled Sam on her lap, helping him eat without dropping too many noodles. John was asking Allan's advice on some kind of investment, and Hester was chatting with Min about school. On the surface, Sutton's family and Jane's family had the same tradition: Sunday night dinners where everyone gathered to share their news from the previous week. But the atmosphere in her parents' townhome was positively stale compared to this.

“So, what's your exam on tomorrow, Corny?” Carmine, who was sitting on Sutton's left, directed the question across the table at her younger sister.

“Don't call me that. And it's for my twentieth-century poetry class.”

“Poetry? What use is poetry?”

“Don't knock it, Carm,” Jane said. “Someday you'll need a poet to write the fortunes in your cookies.”

“Can someone pass the
kai-lan
?” asked Jenny.

“The Chinese broccoli,” Jane translated. “Want some?”

“You know me. I'll try anything once.” Sutton tasted the leafy green vegetable and smiled. “I think I like this better than the other kind of broccoli. What's in the sauce?”

“That's oyster sauce,” Jenny chimed in. “Junior, hold your milk glass nicely, please.”

“You can buy it in any Asian grocery store,” Min said.

“That depends what you think will happen with the European debt crisis,” said Allan to John.

“Do you know anything about e.e. cummings, Jane?” asked Cornelia.

“Born Edward Estlin Cummings, fought in World World War I, loved experimenting with poetic forms. Quite the original guy. Except that he fell in love with Paris while he was stationed there. That's unoriginal—everyone falls in love with Paris. What do you need to know?”

“I'm sure Sutton will make it into the clip they show on TV. She's so pretty.”

Sutton felt herself blush at Min's praise, which had been delivered wholly unprovoked to Hester, who turned to smile at her. Sutton raised her water glass and took a long sip. She felt a little dizzy, but in a good way.

“Are you flirting with my girlfriend again, Minetta?” Jane asked.

Girlfriend. Sutton's heartbeat sped up at the epithet. She liked it. Maybe too much.

“Does anyone know the forecast for next weekend?” asked Allan. “We want to take the boys to Coney Island before the crowds get too bad.”

“Hang on, I'll check my phone,” said Carmine.

“So, Hester,” Sutton said, deciding to dive into the bedlam. “Do you know the sex of this child, or are you going to be surprised?”

“Who needs more noodles?”

“Why do people care whether he wrote his name in uppercase or lowercase letters? I mean, really. Who cares?”

“Oh, we want to be surprised. We didn't know with either of the boys, either.” Hester smiled again. She was one of those pregnant women who seemed to radiate a soft frequency of light. “I love surprises. You?”

“Not especially.” Sutton laughed and set her fork down so she could rest her hand on Jane's knee beneath the table. She was always so warm. For the past week, Sutton hadn't had to turn on her space heater at all. “I was born and raised to be a surgeon. We like to be in control.”

Jane leaned in close under the pretext of reaching for the broccoli. “Not all the time,” she murmured.

Her words sent an electric charge through Sutton that made her shift restlessly against the chair. When she dared to glance over, Jane's lips were curled in a smug smile even as she continued to listen to Cornelia bemoan her exam.

The remainder of the meal passed in a conversational whirlwind. Eventually, Sutton stopped trying to pay attention to every little detail and allowed herself to relax into the chaos. All her life, family dinners had been formal, stilted affairs. Decorous, of course, but also lifeless. She'd never realized that before, but she could see it now. Jane's family was vibrant. Organic. Alive.

When Jenny began to clear the dishes, Sutton stood to join her, only to be waved aside. “You and Jane helped with preparation. Minetta? Cornelia? Carmine? Dishes. Now.”

“What about Hester?” whined Min.

“Hester is seven months pregnant. Apologize to her now, and when you find yourself in the same condition someday, apologize then, too.”

“Sorry, Hester.”

Sutton suddenly realized this was her golden opportunity to see Jane's room. “I'd like a tour, please,” she said, arching one brow in a silent dare.