“I’ll come visit you in the suburbs, then.”
A month later, Annette’s mother invited me to her office. As the thick glass door shut behind me, I felt out of place in my shoddy jacket. I saw Mrs. Avery at her desk and there was a woman in a camel-colored suit sitting in front of her. Mrs. Avery looked up and smiled at me, then gestured for me to take a seat in the large waiting area.
Finally, it was my turn. Mrs. Avery stood up and shook hands with me as if I were a grown-up. She didn’t ask where my mother was.
“So I may have something for you. It’s in Queens, in quite a green area.”
My heart beat a little faster. In New York in those days, most Chinese immigrants lived in Chinatown, a few were scattered in places like Brooklyn like us, and the ones that really became successful moved to Queens. It was considered to be even nicer than Staten Island, where Aunt Paula lived.
Mrs. Avery continued. “I don’t normally get apartments at such a price, but I’ll be honest with you, the place has been rented for a long time so it’s not in optimal condition. Most of my other clients wouldn’t even want to see it.”
I began to get worried. “Does it have heat?”
She looked startled. “Do you mean central heating?”
“Yes, does it have radiators that work?”
“Of course it does. I mean, don’t worry, the heat works great.” She blinked and hurried on. “It comes fully furnished, with all of the normal appliances: washing machine, dryer, refrigerator, oven, you name it.”
A washing machine and dryer in your own apartment! We would no longer have to wash everything by hand and hang our clothes out to dry. The simple idea of a warm, heated apartment was like heaven to me. I knew I was giving myself away with my questions but I had to know before I could be disappointed again. “Are there insects in the apartment?”
She didn’t flinch this time. She was prepared. “You mean like ants and roaches? No.”
“Rats?”
“No.”
“Then why did you say it was not in optimal condition?”
“Well, it’s not very big. And the paint’s peeling off the wall in a few places-not a lot, you understand, just a bit-and the carpet is wearing thin. That kind of thing.”
“That’s okay.” I couldn’t believe how good it sounded, but I still braced myself for disappointment. Now came the crucial question. “How much is the rent?”
She wrote it down for me on a piece of paper. To my surprise, it wasn’t much more than what we were already paying if you included the amount we’d had to put in each month to pay off our plane tickets and visas for Aunt Paula, plus the interest she’d added. I was glad we’d just paid off our debt to her a few months before. My face must have brightened, because Mrs. Avery raised a warning finger.
“Wait, Kimberly. It’s not that easy. They want to make sure that the new renters are reliable people. They want a deposit and some paperwork. We’ll need a salary slip or some proof of employment, and a character reference.”
My mind ticked away. For the first time, Ma and I had a bit of financial breathing room, especially with the extra hours I was working at the library. We’d be able to manage the deposit if we were given a bit more time. But where would we get the reference?
As if she’d read my mind, Mrs. Avery said, “Maybe one of your teachers at school could write you the character reference?”
“They’ve never even met my mother.”
“That’s true. Let me think about it, but I’m sure we can work that out.”
“We have some money in savings, but it will be easier if we have a few more weeks to finish saving the money for the deposit. Also, the salary slip, well, it’s not very much.”
“That’s okay. They just want to make sure that your mother can work, that’s all. Maybe you could also include your own salary slip from your work at school. If they see from your character reference that you’re dependable people, that will be enough.”
“Will someone else get the apartment before we do?”
“I’ll talk to the owners and tell them I have someone very reliable in mind for it.”
“I will give you the salary slips and other paperwork as soon as possible, so they know we are serious.”
When I told Ma later that evening, her entire face glowed. “Ah-Kim, another place to live!”
We had been trapped in that apartment for so long that we’d stopped daring to dream of fleeing. But our escape still relied on getting that character reference for Ma.
It was March, and Curt and I had taken to holding hands in public. I felt safe with him, knowing that he wasn’t going to demand anything from me I didn’t want to give. I don’t know how things might have progressed with us, taking step after step down the road of love, or at least acting as if we were, if events hadn’t unfolded as they did.
We’d just left Milton Hall together. Curt had stolen one of my pens and I was trying to get it back from him. I had him by the arm and was playfully batting him on the shoulder when I caught sight of a tall figure standing in front of the shrubbery of the main hall.
“Matt.” I couldn’t imagine what he would be doing here at Harrison. He was as poorly dressed as usual, in workman’s slacks and a thin wrinkled jacket, but girls walking by still turned their heads at the way he stood there, proud as a young dragon.
Matt had seen us by now and the shock in his eyes was swiftly eclipsed by pain and jealousy. He shook his head as if to clear his vision and then strode away as fast as he could. At first, I felt sorrow at his hurt, then anger because I knew exactly what that pang felt like, had felt it every day.
Curt too had frozen. “Now I get it.”
“I have to go,” I said, and without a backward glance, I hurried after Matt.
It was raining and I almost slipped on the slick sidewalk as I chased him. I could just make him out through the rain, a blur in the distance, but then he grew closer and closer until I realized he’d turned around and was now coming toward me.
Then his hands were on my elbows and he gripped me, hard. “That your boyfriend?” he yelled.
“What about your girlfriend?” I screamed back. My hair and face were soaked.
He stopped moving, then seemed to deflate. He let me go. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m made of stupid material.”
I saw then that his face was wet not only from the rain. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot. He’d been crying.
“Did you and Vivian break up?” I asked, more gently.
“My mother died,” he said. He gave a hopeless little shrug.
I took him by the hand and I led him into my arms. He bowed his head and started to weep, great shuddering sobs. I held him like that, on the sidewalk of the Harrison Prep campus, and let the rain come down.
Then I got us both into the subway and took him home with me.
We hardly said a word to each other until we arrived at my apartment. We were filled with so much emotion that there was nothing but complete recklessness left to us. His quick eyes took in the garbage bags over the windows, the roaches on the countertop and the plaster falling off the walls. If anything, the apartment was in even worse shape than it had been in when we moved there, because it was now seven years older. It still held the chill of winter. Our clothes were wet and I got the two thin towels from the bathroom.
I handed one to Matt, but instead of starting to dry himself off, he took it and wiped it gently over my face. I stood there, motionless, while he lifted my hair and dried the base of my neck with the towel. He unzipped my jacket and pushed it off my shoulders. It fell on the floor.
His lips were all I could look at, and I abruptly disengaged myself and started walking toward the kitchen.
“I better find another towel,” I said, knowing we didn’t have any other towels.
But he’d caught me by my sleeve and his hands were pulling me back. I closed my eyes. I felt his arms go around me and before I knew it, his hands were under my shirt, stroking and tantalizing. He kissed me and I stopped breathing. He was filled with need, he seemed unable to control himself.