Chapter 18
Genevievehadgoneall out for this “small soiree” she threw in the front wing of her hilltop mansion. From the fully stocked open bar in the reception to the hookah and cushions in the salon, Aya wondered who this party was really for – and how often they occurred.
The first guest to arrive was Iris Hsu, a woman Aya had never met before but was expected to know from the sight of her amber curls and penchant for wearing nothing but Luna o Sol, a designer tangential enough to Bertram St. Jacque that she immediately walked up to Aya and asked her about it. Then came Zabrina Perera, a Filipina fashion model who had attended high school with Genevieve and claimed to remember when she “had no boobs.” By the time Lip Kwan showed up, Aya had already forgotten everyone else’s names. She sure as hell couldn’t understand a name like “Lip Kwan.” Lip, as in your mouth? Lip, that is short for something? Huh? She knew names could be different in Southeast Asia, but she also didn’t want to assume what was self-given and what had been granted by God Himself.
Most of the early guests were lovely enough to make Aya not feel like she stood out as she grabbed a glass of wine from the open bar to settle her nerves and travel fatigue. It wasn’t until a brash and loudmouth woman arrived half an hour after cocktails began that Aya realized the party was only now beginning.
“Genevieve! It’s been so long since I was last in your house!”
Genevieve had to slightly bend to exchange cheek kisses with the shorter woman who arrived in a pink cocktail dress and held an elegant smoking stick in her left hand. Behind her was a docile woman with a floral slip dress and a pixie cut straight out of 1997. All that’s missing are the daisy hair clips. Still, the woman in the back was more familiar than the loud lady fussing over Genevieve and commenting that it had been a whole two months“ since “Genny” threw a party for everyone to attend.
Aya kept her distance. A few of the other guests exchanged polite smiles with her, but it was the gal in the pink dress who sashayed right up to her and said, “This must be your ‘boyfriend,’ as the heterosexual gossip keeps churning.”
Aya’s jaw tightened. She looked to Genevieve for help.
“Wendy-ah, allow me to introduce you to my girlfriend, Ms. Aya Sugiya.” The entire exchange was done in English for Aya’s benefit, but the Hokkien, Mandarin, and higher tiers of Singlish slipping through Wendy and Genevieve’s words to one another were only alienating because Aya didn’t know if she should steel herself around this guest. “We’ve only been dating a few weeks. This is her first time in Singapore. It’s sort of her…”
“Like a first cotilion! How exciting!” Wendy extended her hand toward Aya. How do I shake something like this? Those limp fingers hung in Aya’s face. Was she supposed to kiss Wendy’s knuckles, like a prince at the ball? “Welcome to Singapore, Aya. Can I call you Aya? We’re all on a first-name basis here. Oh, I’m Wendy Ahn. Call me Wendy, of course. Has Genny told you about me? We’re old, old friends. Attended the same schools and our mothers were dear friends as well.”
From the way Genevieve’s mouth twitched, something about Wendy’s assertion was farfetched. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Wendy.” Aya shook Wendy’s fingers, which soon retracted to their owner. Wendy switched her smoking stick between her hands. “Forgive me. I just flew in today. I’m a bit jetlagged.
“Ah, her accent is so sexy.” Wendy motioned for the woman behind her to step forward. She can hear my accent? Damnit. Either that or Wendy merely said that as a tired power play. “Allow me to introduce you to my darling partner. Say hello to Genevieve’s new stud, Lisa.”
“Pleased to meet you.” That pixie haircut bent down as a soft hand offered itself up to Aya. What in the world is going on here? Only when Lisa perked her head back up did Aya realize she was wearing a collar around her neck. Ah. I see.
“She’s a woman of few words,” Wendy said.
“Because Wendy hogs all of them,” Genevieve muttered. Then, louder, “I believe Lip Kwan is around here somewhere. Weren’t you saying you hadn’t seen her in a long time? She might be leaving early. Now’s your chance!”
Wendy took the bait. With hardly another look in Aya’s direction, she led Lisa across the large room and introduced herself to the woman who had been conversing with Zabrina and someone else who Aya could not remember.
“Sorry about Wendy.” Genevieve slipped Aya’s wineglass out of her hand and stole a sip for herself. “She’s… well, yeah. She’s always been big for her britches.”
“Britches?”
Genevieve lightly snorted. “Your accent really is cute sometimes.”
Aya would have been annoyed by the whole interaction, but when Genevieve focused all attention on her like that? I’m putty. Putty for Genevieve; putty for the feeling melting between them.
“Will you be all right?” Genevieve handed back the wineglass and sidled up next to her girlfriend. “I need to mix and mingle, and I get the impression you’re a bit worn out already – so I won’t parade you around like Wendy always does with Lisa.”
“I think I’ll be fine, yes.”
“Everyone here should speak fluent English, so don’t let them weasel out of introductions or communications by pretending they don’t.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Oh…” Genevieve looked away, mouth pursed into a tight-lipped O. “It’s not because of you. I mean, not because of who you are. I mean…”
Aya put her arms akimbo, elbows leaning toward Genevieve. “Because I’m Japanese?”
“You know how it is. Some ethnicities basically become status symbols around here for a hot minute, then they’re… out…”
Aya raised one eyebrow.
“This is coming out the wrong way, but you know how it is. Most people here are too young to care, but there can be a… smidgen of tension here and there.”
“Don’t act like I haven’t taken a proper history lesson. It was like a rite of passage when studying abroad.”