Vacant MC Read online

  Ivy shook her shoulders, making her breasts jiggle. “No sticks here,” she said. All the women laughed, making the babies chortle.

  Ivy sang a very slow version of Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit. They all sang the “hello” line. “Just work out until you get winded with some YouTube videos. FitnessBlender, Millionaire Hoy. Turn the sound down and blast your music. Get in some butt-jiggling dance moves. I like to salsa.”

  She held out her arms and jiggled her breasts, making the women double over with laughter. The babies chortled, sensing merriment, except Aiden, who cried. Lily took point, took him to the bathroom with a diaper bag, and brought him back, changed and giggling.

  They ate their food, passed around babies, danced a little, and went back to Katya’s house. Katya put on baby videos, Ivy put on some rock, and they danced with the babies, which wore them out. The rock was turned down low, and naptime ensued.

  Gregory sent over two massage therapists, two manicure artists, and a pedicure specialist with a foot-soak tub. Two Wolfpack came for when the babies woke up, and they kept the women in drinks while they cleaned. The babies woke up, one or two at a time, and they all rotated the babies. The video went back on, the babies stared at each other and played with their toys, and everyone got their rotation. They fed the babies, and Ivy ordered delivery. Of crab-stuffed ravioli, pesto pizza, and stuffed mushrooms. They ate like pigs, and Katya broke out the wine. The men arrived to take their women home, except for Callie and Ivy, who went giggling into the night.

  Leaving Time

  Bao watched over her daughter’s packing. Hu told her every step that she had learned in the video. “First, put your things in piles. Since we’re doing washing there, and probably getting more stuff, three underwear, three socks, three T-shirts, three shorts, jeans for the flight and a hoodie and warm socks. Airplanes are always cold,” she informed her mother. “Toothbrush and toothpaste in the little collapsible thing. Refillable water bottle, better than buying and trashing all that plastic. A towel that can be used as a blanket. One swimsuit. Sandals, I’m wearing sneakers on the plane. One nice pants and blouse, one nice dress. Or, I can buy a dress there.”

  “Buy one there,” said Bao. The offending dress was removed and hung in a closet.

  “I’ve got enough books and games to use on the flight,” said Bao. “And, a drawing kit. I thought about paint-by-numbers, but planes judder in the air, and the smell would offend people. I also brought a jewelry-making kit David put together for me. Passport, you have, and medicines, in case we get sick. Did I leave anything out?”

  “No,” said Bao. “Now, how do you get all of this into your rolling case?”

  Hu showed her mother how to roll up the clothes to conserve space, and how to put the shoes in a bag that would later be used for laundry. It left space at the top. “This space,” said Hu, “is for purchases. I also read that we can have them shipped back.”

  “Excellent,” said Bao. “My intelligent daughter strikes again. Would you like to do the same with my packing? And, don’t worry. I sent the suits for my business meeting to the hotel, and I asked that they be pressed and hung up in our suite.”

  “So, same deal,” said Hu. “Let’s do this.”

  Bao grinned at her daughter’s can-do attitude. She had the added twist of having to add camisole bras and tampons, but she soon had her mother packed. This time, the pants and shirts were folded in amongst each other, and the rest rolled and laid on top. Bao explained a minimum makeup case, foundation/powder blend, eye shadow, mascara, and tinted lip gloss. She gave her daughter a lip moisturizer.

  “Planes are notoriously dry,” she said. “And, let’s get some carabiners for the water bottles to attach to the outside.” They clipped them to the outside well. “Now, most hotel have shampoo and conditioner. I bring a tiny bottle of my conditioner with me because it’s the only one that works on my hair,” said Bao, showing her daughter her toiletries kit. “You can only bring three, one-hundred milliliter bottles on a plane. So, tiny deodorant, a scent in a cream… so I don’t stink.” Bao giggled.

  “A tiny shampoo, and a face mask for sleeping.”

  She handed a child-sized one to her daughter in the shape of a panda. Bao giggled again. “We’ve also got these travel wraps that wrap around you and hold up your head while sleeping. If you are reclining, fold it up and use it as a pillow.” She handed a red one to her daughter and wrapped a blue one around the handle of her suitcase. She also held out a pill bottle. “Diarrhea, constipation, and motion sickness medication, melatonin to help us sleep, and multivitamins.” She put it in the case.

  “Good,” said Hu.

  “Now, what shall we do for Nico?” asked Bao. Hu stared at his side of the closet, jeans and works shorts divided from slacks and jackets, to suits. “Don’t worry, little flower,” said Bao. “I have sent two suits and dinner jackets on ahead. What should we pack?”

  “Jeans and socks for the plane,” said Hu, taking them out. Bao helped her; his jeans were heavy. “And another pair. Shorts, two pairs, he doesn’t wear them often. Board shorts for swimming. Underwear, undershirts.” All his underthings were brightly colored, blue and maroon and the occasional yellow with black diamonds. “Two slacks, no, three. He likes to dress for dinner.” She stared. “White shirts. He likes those to dress up in.”

  “Someone has been paying attention,” said Bao. “Good. And jewelry?”

  “Bad idea for the plane ride. Every article I’ve read said you have to take it on and off for Security, and you might lose something. Cufflinks. He wears them. Silver… black… silver goes with everything.” Hu took them out and put them on the bed. “And you… silver necklace and those drop-leaf earrings you like.” She ran over to her mother’s jewelry box and took out the delicate chain necklace, and to the hanging earring tree to take off the leaf earrings. Bao provided jeweler’s bags for both, and she laughed and clapped when Hu hid them in a pair of socks.

  “Now, ugly fact of life, pantyhose. Men created them to torture women. I use silk, and like black ones.” They went into a laundry bag for the delicates. Bao put the bras into the bag as well. “I also use bras with a front clasp. Why break your arm putting something on?”

  They surveyed the bed. “Think we’ve got it, Honored Mother,” said Hu, in very precise Chinese. “Let’s pack… wait, Nico likes real books.” She took two paperbacks from the to-read pile, then a third. All of that fit in two rolling bags, with plenty of space on top for purchases. “We could fit this in one,” said Hu.

  “Give the man his space,” said Bao. They fist-bumped and got the rolling bags down the stairs.

  “Are you okay to fly, with the being-pregnant thing?” asked Hu.

  Bao laughed. “I’ve got some time left before we get nervous about that.” She kissed Hu’s cheek. “Now, passport, itinerary, and e-tickets,” she said. “I wear all of that around my neck. Harder to steal without grabbing my breast, which I’d notice.”

  “Ewww,” said Hu, making Bao laugh again. Bao got the neck passport case, inserted all the passports. “Nico had to have a visa,” said Bao. She showed it to Hu. “The travel agent got it for him.” She then showed Hu the itinerary, Vegas to San Francisco, to China and onto a train to the small town where Bao grew up. They packed an itinerary in each case, and one around Bao’s neck.

  Bao took a deep breath and called her mother. “Honored Mother,” she left on her answering machine, “you are still invited to go. Please let me know if you will go to China to visit your old friends. I must know to have the ticket ready for you when you arrive at the airport, or Nico can pick you up.” She hung up.

  “That’s just mean, Mama,” said Bao. “She still can’t stand Daddy.”

  “She’s got to learn to have a civil conversation,” said Bao. “He has always been kind and gentle with her.”

  “But, she can’t learn the lesson all at once,” said Hu. “Baby steps.”

  Bao put her hand to her heart. “Once more, my Honored
Daughter educates me,” she said in Mandarin. Hu gave a little bow, and they both laughed.

  They had dinner early, leftover puttanesca with little garlic knots, and flavored water. Nico checked out the packing job, pronounced himself amazed, and added only another set of cufflinks, the black ones, his own toiletries kit, and a book.

  “Sorry about the toiletries kit, Dad,” said Hu.

  Nico laughed. “You don’t need to shave your lovely face,” he said to Hu. “Now, we have to get to the airport and go through Security, enough excitement for anyone.”

  Bao looked up from her phone, stricken. “My mother. Texted. She’s coming!”

  Hu jumped up and down. “Let’s get her!” said Nico. “Stove off?”

  “Check!” said Bao.

  “Everything unplugged —computers, TV, blow dryers? Final check!” Everyone checked a room. All three were bringing their tablet computers. “Alright. Let’s put the lights on timers and hit the road!”

  They turned on the timers, locked the door, filled up the Uber car driven by a copper-haired woman with a big smile, and rode away. Ivy, Callie, and the others didn’t come out to say goodbye; they’d said it at dinner the previous night.

  Honored Mother was waiting in front of her triplex, head bowed as if she were waiting to be executed. Remarkably, she had only one bag, and it was a silvery-pink hard case. Bao got out to put it in the back, and Honored Mother practically leapt into the back seat with Hu.

  “Hello, Honored Grandmother,” said Hu. “Welcome to the trip!” Hu kept up a steady chatter of how she learned to pack a bag on YouTube.

  Bao’s mother sat in silence all the way to the airport, despite Hu’s bright chatter. They were there in less than half an hour. They checked in and went to the business lounge. They sipped flavored waters and snacked on canapes while waiting for their plane.

  They were in business class, in little pods arranged in a herringbone pattern. Hu excitedly changed places with her grandmother to see the plane take off, then sat next to her mother when the pilot took off the seat belt sign. Even though it was evening, Bao correctly surmised her daughter would be too excited to sleep, and so she opened her laptop and banged out the copy for narration for a book based on the lovely “dragon wind,” with illustrations sent by her incredible illustrator, a woman in China that was putting her daughter through school.

  Hu worked on a beaded bracelet. She put it away for the appetizer, scallops and pork, and the soup, a fig/pork/mushroom soup. Full of food, Hu slipped off to sleep. Bao grinned, put on a movie, and was surprised to see both her mother and husband already asleep. She watched a movie about two girls trying to go to see a waterfall with their boyfriends, and the attendant’s hijinks before they all ended up there, and both proposals that ensued at the waterfall. She turned it off, put away her laptop, and fell into sleep.

  They awoke to a lovely breakfast of salmon and blinis and a goat cheese zucchini roll, a shrimp-walnut salad, a cheese plate, and breads. They all had strong, hot tea, and Nico had coffee. They stretched and walked around, and then played games or read until the plane landed in Shanghai.

  They all freshened up in the restroom before getting through customs. Nico used a computer to check in, and since he had his marriage certificate to Bao, it took time in a long line, but it was not onerous. They waited for him, after their much faster check-through, at the baggage carousel.

  They were shocked to be met, once out of the baggage area, by a limo and a news crew. Bao explained how she was delighted to be back in China, and of course her Chinese daughter wanted to see as much of China as she could. Hu answered questions in perfect Mandarin, and she was so cute that she pleased the cameras.

  “Where are your friends?” asked the camerawoman.

  “They are on a trip through the Sierra Nevadas,” said Bao. “We decided that, of course, we should go to China. I have a business that sells books teaching stories in Mandarin, to the Chinese and Taiwanese people, and they use the stories to teach Chinese as well.”

  “This must be your mother,” said the interviewer, a stunning Chinese beauty with a black skirt and a yellow blouse. “It is very good to meet you.”

  Honored Mother bowed. “As my daughter has said, we cannot help but to visit China.”

  “And who is this?” asked the interviewer.

  Hu answered. “My Honored Father died when I was only four. It was a terrible time. Now, my mother has married a man who treats me as wonderfully as Honored Father did. This is Nico, my wonderful daddy.” She smiled up at him and took his hand.

  Nico smiled down at her. “My little Princess,” said Nico, in perfect Mandarin. “My wife is now pregnant with our little prince.”

  The interviewer couldn’t wait to express her delight. “You must be so amazed and delighted.”

  “We all are,” said Bao’s mother. Bao and Nico, who understood his mother-in-law perfectly fine, struggled to keep their faces relaxed.

  The limo took them to the train station. “Don’t worry, Hu, we will spend more time here on the way back,” said Bao.

  The interviewer had lots of questions about their previous trip to pick up Bao, who had been staying with Dragon Mother. Dragon Mother talked about the triplex and failed to mention that the rest of the family now lived out on a horse farm, away from her, unable to deal with her frosty reception and nasty comments to Bao. And about her not being Chinese enough, which threatened to spoil the wedding.

  Hu picked up the thread, telling her own memories. The woman asked if they still lived together, and Hu said no, that Grace and the babies lived in another house. She talked about a farm being over the hill, with horses and ponies, and about Damia, the child who was a horse whisperer.

  They got off at the train station and were wonderfully met by well-wishers who had loved the first broadcasts about Bao and Hu being reunited. Hu was gentle and kind, and took the little teddy bears she was offered graciously.

  “Good,” said Bao. “We will need them.” They put them in the top of the suitcases and closed them back up.

  They took the train, and Hu loved every minute. Bao and Nico held hands, while Dragon Mother came out of her shell and told Hu all about her childhood in China, glossing over the very-poor parts. Bao let her gloss over anything she wanted; Bao could set the record straight later.

  The town was as they’d left it, a poor town on a hillside. Bao had rented a house and felt nearly no guilt at what was most-surely displacing a family, because she’d paid enough to have them pay all their bills for the next year. Hu became familiar with squat toilets, and with hiking up and down steep hills. The next morning, she took her daughter on the hour-long walk to her former school. Bao and Hu both gave lessons in English and talked about working hard to achieve goals. Bao had shipped books for all three hundred students, and had signed every one, personally. The camera crew found her, and they enjoyed the tale of a local woman giving back.

  Then, they hiked back down to the taxi stand and to the train station, taking the train back to Shanghai. They had fun roaming the city, from Yu Garden, the Shanghai Museum with its treasures, shopping and eating on the Bund, to taking in the snacks and teas in the basement of the Urban Planning Exhibition Hall. It was set up like a 1930s Chinese city. Hu had spent a lot of time in the small Vegas Chinatown with her mother, but this was complexity that hummed and moved in a seething mass that seemed to make sense of itself, somehow.

  They made several stops for photo ops, with the same dogged reporter they found out was named Zhu Chen, who didn’t look too worse for wear from her time in the mountains. They endorsed tea and cookies, and they gladly talked about the museums and shops they had visited. Hu and Bao expressed joy at all they had seen. They had dinner at the lovely Plaza Riverside Shanghai Hotel, and they went up to their suite. Dragon Mother collapsed. Hu was still full of excitement, despite being tired, and she worked on her bracelet while watching TV. She finally slept in her bedroom.

  The third bedroom sported a lovely
bed. Nico shut the door, put on some low music, and took his time taking off his wife’s clothes. He took her to the deep bath, and crept in with her, making her laugh. He washed her hair, and conditioned it, enjoying the weight of all that silken hair in his hands. He put it in a knot and secured it with a chopstick, then he kissed his way down her neck. She used the water to position herself, pushed herself up on her hands, and put her knees at his hips. She rocked back and forth, making him groan as silently as he could, until he felt satiated. He came, trying not to thrash about and drown his wife. He slid out of her and helped her settle back.

  Nico washed her from head to toe, and she floated. He washed himself, and then he drained the tub when it started to get chilly. He stepped out first, then helped her out. He dried her from head to toe, then dried himself. She dried her hair partway, and he braided it while it was still wet. He put lotion on all over her, while she put lotion on her face, delicately, with two fingers. He put her in the soft hotel robe, and then he led her to the bed. He put on his own robe and found her talking on the phone in rapid Mandarin, ordering a snack. He laughed to himself and prepared to open the door so as not to wake the sleeping females in the suite. The hotel staff delivered a fruit and cheese plate, with lovely chocolates on the side. He bowed, Nico tipped him, and the delivery man left. They shared the plate, brushed their teeth, and put on silken sleeping clothes.

  They were awakened by a knock on the door. The chef was there to prepare breakfast. They ate fresh fruit, bacon, and croissants in their pajamas, and drank fresh orange juice, too. Nico tipped the chef, who stayed to clean up while everyone else got dressed.

  A shocking-pink rolling bag was delivered, and they packed up to take the train. “What is the bag for?” asked Hu. “Are we meeting someone?”

  “Yes,” said Nico, a gleam in his eyes. He held up his phone, and showed a picture of a young girl, about thirteen. “This is He Jie. She is lovely, and kind, and wonderful, but no one wants to adopt her because she is an older girl.”