“One from my mom. And Xi Yong, Joey’s exchange student, promised to show me a recipe for fresh-water fish from his village that he says is generations old.”
They talked about cooking as they drank their tea, then Jen said, “We should get going. It’s clear you’re busy.”
“I’m glad you stopped by,” Doris said. “See you on Friday! I promise to bring something tasty to try on the group.”
They carried their cups to the sink. Jen and Bird were the first to go.
Godiva lin
gered. When the other two had gone outside, Godiva stopped at the door and grinned wickedly back at Doris. “I called it.”
She spoke in such a gloating tone that Doris had to laugh. Then she sobered. “You were right. Which reminds me, I basically lied to you when I said I didn’t leave the wedding at Bird’s house because of Joey Hu. I did. I was a walking cliché—in love at first sight. So hard I had to run.”
“I know.” Godiva grinned.
“You knew?” Doris asked cautiously. Was it possible that Godiva, in all her years of wandering and crazy adventures, had learned about . . .
Godiva said, “Ever played poker?”
“Poker? No. Well, I kind of know the rules. Sort of. But that’s it.”
“That’s what I thought. My dad, who wasn’t worth much—he admitted himself, having born with wanderlust—took me aside when I was maybe thirteen or so, and made me sit down with him every night until I knew poker inside and out. I practiced with local kids for a year, and when he turned up the next summer, he took me to the sort of dive of a bar that just driving a kid past would get Child Protective Services all over your case. He took me to the back room, where all the local lowlifes played cutthroat poker, and me made me play until I could win. The following summer, when I was fifteen, he took me to an uptown hotel where the high rollers play. Same.”
Doris waited. The point always came when Godiva was ready.
Godiva gazed a thousand miles beyond the stack of boxes in the kitchen corner. “At the end of that summer, he took off again for another ten years, but before he went, he told me I’d reached the age when men were going to start telling me anything I wanted to hear, for purposes of their own. But now I knew all their tells, which meant I’d know when they were bluffing, and when they held good cards—that is, when they were lying like rugs, and when they were talkin’ truth. Well, Doris, goin’ back to my question that night, all of a sudden you were full of about fifty tells, showin’ me you were bluffing hard. But I figured, you had your reasons.”
Godiva patted Doris’s shoulder and cackled. “And everybody likes to be right, when being right is good.”
She walked out into the night. Doris heard the car door slam, and turned back to her house, which was half packed up. Some things she was taking, but most of it she was donating to homeless shelters.
She passed into the kitchen, thinking about Godiva as she washed the teacups. Then she decided, why not pack them now, while she was at it?
So she took them down, thinking about each as she wrapped them and nested them in boxes. These, she’d drive over herself.
When she got to the top shelf, she reached for the oldest cup—and then froze when she stared down at the fragile porcelain, and the fading painting of . . . a dancing fox with several waving tails, amid lotus blossoms.
Doris knew enough by now to recognize a Chinese teacup, from the imperial period.
Her mind arrowed straight back to her great-grandmother, and her words, The magic was good to me. Maybe it will be good to you.
Doris looked up in wonder. Had her great-grandmother known . . . ?
She smiled as she gently packed the cup and then closed the box, ready for a future full of love and surprises.
A note from Zoe Chant
Thank you for reading Silver Fox! I hope you enjoyed it. If you haven’t read the first book, which introduces Joey and Doris, it’s Silver Dragon.
If you’d like to be emailed when I release my next book, please click here to be added to my mailing list. You can also visit my webpage, or follow me on Facebook or Twitter. You are also invited to join my VIP Readers Group on Facebook!
Please consider reviewing Silver Fox, even if you only write a line or two. Reviews from readers like you help me keep writing!
As a special thank-you, I’ve included a bonus story about Xi Yong and Isidor, The Luck of the Qilin!
Special Bonus Story
The Luck of the Qilin