Chapter 3

After a few days of nothing but vegetables, Grandpa's face had lost its old greasy shine and turned a healthy pink instead.

But he kept feeling like something was missing from every bite, nothing looked right to him, and his temper got worse by the day.

The trouble was, he couldn't find a reason to blow up at Janice. She had reason and rules on her side, every single move by the book.

So he took it out on my mother.

That day, Janice and I had gone out to run some errands.

Grandpa spotted my mother hanging laundry on the balcony, hobbled over on his cane, and kicked the drying rack flat.

"You call this washing? Yellow collar, pilled cuffs. A pig's cleaner than you."

My mother didn't dare explain that she'd worn that shirt for years. She just quietly gathered the clothes off the floor.

The more he cursed, the more worked up he got, pacing back and forth in the living room. Then he stopped at the coffee table.

On it sat a broken jade bracelet, the green mottled and worthless, a crack running through it.

But it was the one thing Grandma had left my mother before she died.

Every so often my mother would take it out to bathe it in moonlight, soak it in purified water, keep the color deep and alive.

Grandpa glanced at it, decided it was in his way, and swept it off the table with the back of his hand.

Green shards scattered across the floor.

When Janice and I got back, we saw my mother rushing in from the balcony and dropping to the floor to gather the pieces.

A shard sliced her fingertip, and blood welled up at once.

"Dad, that's the only thing my mother ever left me."

Grandpa rolled his eyes.

"What are you wailing about? No manners left in you at all. A worthless rock, and you're howling over it?"

"In the big households, which daughter-in-law didn't take her grievances and still smile through them?"

"Behave like this in the Bishop family compound and you'd have been dealt with by household law long ago."

With that he grunted, turned, went back to his room, and slammed the door.

I hurried to find a bandage and wrapped my mother's finger.

Then I folded the shards into a tissue, put the little bundle in her hands, held her, and let her cry without a sound.

Janice crouched down too, gently took the bundle of broken jade from my mother's hands, and slipped it into her own pocket.

"Auntie, let me hold on to this. I'll take it to be repaired."

"Even broken, it can be pieced back together. I promise it'll look better than before."

My mother lifted her head to look at her, and through her tears she nodded.

Not long after, my father came home from work.

He passed through the entryway, stepped on a small chip of jade, then glanced at the blood on the living room floor.

He said nothing. He just tossed the sausage in his hand toward the kitchen.

"Slice this up and plate it. Warm some liquor for Dad tonight. And quit the crying, it kills the mood."

Blood rushed straight to my head and I wanted to charge at him, but Janice caught my arm.

"Wyatt, hold it in. If you don't hold back now, all of this is for nothing."

At dinner, Grandpa came out of his room, saw the fatty sausage on the table, and his eyes lit up.

He was reaching for it with his chopsticks when Janice, all smiles, set a bowl of bitter herbal soup in front of him to block the way.

"Grandpa, this is tonight's wellness soup. Clears the liver, brightens the eyes."

"Aren't you the one who swears tea sharpens the eyes? This herb is even better than tea."

"I'm not drinking that garbage. I want meat."

Janice sighed, picked up the sausage, and tucked it into the fridge.

"You've forgotten, Grandpa. No meat, no grease. That's the way the great families keep their health, and it can't be broken."

She turned, opened the fridge, and set the two fatty sausages inside.

"You're the Old Master Bishop, so you have to carry yourself like one and set the example for the younger ones."

Grandpa watched the meat get carried off, swallowing over and over, but with his pride on the line he never did say a word.

At nine sharp, Janice turned off the lights.

"Lights out for the whole house after nine. Behind closed doors, we reflect on our own faults. Grandpa, time to rest."

The whole apartment sank into darkness.

I lay in bed with my eyes shut, and all I could see was my mother on her knees, gathering up the broken bracelet.

Janice leaned against my shoulder and murmured to me.

"Don't sleep too deep tonight. Just wait. There'll be a show soon enough."

Sure enough, deep in the night, a soft rustling came from the kitchen.

Janice and I looked at each other in the dark.

She nodded at me: "Now."