“Gong hei fat choy. And who are you?” Su Yi asked, peering at her through her trademark tinted bifocals.
Lillian May looked taken aback. “Su Yi, it’s me. Lillian May Tan!”
Su Yi paused for a moment before saying, completely deadpan, “Oh, I didn’t recognize you with your new hairstyle. I thought that wicked English woman from Dynasty had come to visit me.”
Lillian didn’t know whether to be pleased or offended, but everyone else in the room broke out in laughter.
Soon, more members of the extended Young–T’sien–Shang clan began to arrive, and everyone rushed around gongheifatchoying the hell out of each other, handing ang pows to the kids, complimenting one another’s outfits, commenting on who had put on weight or looked too skinny, trading reports on whose house just sold for how much, showing off pictures of their most recent holiday/grandchild/medical procedure, and stuffing their faces with pineapple tarts.
As guests began dispersing toward the grand staircase and the upstairs drawing room, Lillian May took the opportunity to greet Eleanor. “I didn’t want to compliment you in front of Felicity and Victoria, who are always so jealous of you, but I must say your purple wrap dress is a winner! You are by far the most elegant woman in the room!”
Eleanor smiled graciously. “You look lovely too. That’s quite an outfit…is the caftan detachable?”
“I got this when I was visiting my sister in San Francisco. It’s this marvelous new designer I discovered. What was the name? Let me think…Eddie Fisher. No, no, that’s not right…Eileen Fisher! Now, the West Coast has really had an unseasonably cold winter. You really must pack some extra-warm clothing for your trip.”
“My trip?” Eleanor furrowed her brow.
“To California?”
“I’m not going to California.”
“But surely you and Philip are going to—” Lillian began, before suddenly breaking off.
“To what?”
“Dear me, I’m such a fool…I’m sorry, I confused you with someone else for a moment,” Lillian sputtered. “Geik toh sei!*6 I am getting so senile. Oh look, Astrid and Michael are here! Doesn’t Astrid look divine? And little Cassian looks so adorable in that bow tie. I must go and pinch that cutie pie’s cheeks!”
Eleanor’s jaw tightened. This Lillian May was such a bad liar. Something was up in California, and Eleanor’s mind reeled at all the possibilities. Why would she and Philip ever go to godforsaken California together? Unless there was some big event involving Nicky. Was he finally getting married? Yes, yes, that must be what was happening. Of course, the one person who would know the truth was Astrid, who at this very minute was standing at the staircase landing while Lillian May rather bizarrely stroked her dress. From afar, Astrid appeared to be wearing a rather simple white shift with blue detailing on the sleeves and hemline, but as Eleanor got closer, she realized that the blue detailing was actually silk embroidery that mimicked Delft china patterns.
“Aiyah, Astrid, every year I come here just to see what couture dress you’ll be wearing! And you certainly didn’t disappoint—you are by far the most elegant woman in the room. Who are you wearing? Is it Balmain? Chanel? Dior?” Lillian May gushed.
“Oh, this is just a little experiment that my friend Jun*7 whipped up for me,” Astrid said.
“It’s absolutely divine! And Michael—from Toa Payoh to tycoon! My son tells me you have become the Steve Gates of Singapore!”
“Ha, ha. No lah, Auntie,” Michael responded, too polite to correct the old lady.
“It’s true. Every time I open Business Times I see your face. Do you have a hot tip for me?” Eleanor asked as she joined the group.
“Auntie Elle, from what my friends at G. K. Goh tell me, you’re the one who could give me a few stock tips!” Michael laughed, clearly enjoying this new adoration from his wife’s relatives.
“Rubbish, lah! I am just a small fry compared to you. Excuse me, but I need to borrow your wife for a minute,” Eleanor said, grabbing hold of Astrid’s elbow and steering her down the long gallerylike drawing room to the corner by the grand piano. The young pianist, who looked like he was barely out of his first year at the Raffles Music College as he sweated profusely in his suit, was playing some innocuous Chopin étude.
Astrid knew from the force of her grip that Eleanor meant business. Talking over the music, Eleanor said, “I want you to tell me the truth. Is Nicky getting married in California?”
Astrid took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“And when is this happening?”
“I don’t want to lie to you, but I specifically promised Nicky I would not give out any details, so you’ll have to ask him yourself.”
“You know as well as I do that my son has refused to take my calls for over two years!”
“Well, that’s between you and him. Please don’t put me in the middle of this.”
“You are in the middle of this whether you like it or not, because you two have been keeping secrets!” Eleanor was fuming.
Astrid sighed. She hated confrontations like this. “Given the circumstances, I think you know exactly why I can’t tell you.”