Lies and Weddings(115)
“You’re just doing this to piss off Rufus.”
“I could give two fucks about Count Chocula. You know what my dad told me the last time we talked? He said, ‘That Eden Tong is a class act. You should get to know her.’?”
“Getting to know me doesn’t require a marriage proposal.”
“Yeah, but I think I’m ready to settle down, have a bunch of kids. Fill up this house. You know there are twenty bedrooms in this house? We could have nineteen kids and not even notice them.”
“No thanks. My uterus wouldn’t survive.”
“I was joking, I only want one kid to terrorize and ruin. Tell you what—if you marry me, I won’t force the Greshams out of their house.”
“I’m not going to play this game with you again. Not when there are real lives at stake. You’re about to uproot a family from a house that they’ve lived in for eleven generations. I know it’s not a house you even want to live in—it’ll be a massive downgrade.”
“You’re right about that—it’s a sad country shit shack.”
“Then do the decent thing. I know you’re a decent person, even though you pretend otherwise. Let the Greshams keep their house and take Martha’s generous offer.”
“Lemme ask you something. Why are you so loyal to that family, when they treat you like dirt?”
“They don’t! Look, Arabella might be impossible at the moment, but she’s acting under duress. She’s in shock over losing her resort, she’s dealing with an avalanche of family and business issues, and I’m the convenient release valve for her at the moment. I know she’ll come to her senses.”
“Yeah, when hell freezes in my asshole. Arabella will never accept you as her daughter-in-law as long as she lives. You think you’re just the whipping post this week? You’ll always be the whipping post. I see the way she looks at you, I know she thinks you’re trash, just the way she thinks I’m trash. I know her type—she’s one of those Asian bitches who hates other Asians. That’s why she married the Earl of friggin’ Sandwich. She only wanted half-white babies, and now she only wants even whiter grandbabies. But you know what? You can’t see any of that because you’re blinded by love for her son. Admit it, you’re tragically, pathetically in love with that half-breed.” Luis Felipe crawled slowly on his knees toward Eden’s armchair as he said this.
“I love Rufus, and there’s nothing pathetic about that.”
“You’ve never kissed an Asian man in your life, have you?”
“Rufus is Asian.”
“The hell he is.” Luis Felipe sprang up suddenly and kissed her sloppily on the lips.
Eden jerked her head back, wincing. She could smell a week’s worth of booze on his breath.
“What, think you’re too good to kiss me? Think you’re too damn classy?”
Eden rose from the armchair and marched toward the door. “Class has nothing to do with it. You need to get help, Luis Felipe. Before it’s too late.”
“Blah blah blah!” Luis Felipe said, sinking back on the floor against the armchair. From where she stood, Eden couldn’t help but notice that the sad, angry face in one of the Basquiat paintings exactly mirrored his.
XVI
Greshamsbury Hall
GRESHAMSBURY, ENGLAND ? THE NEXT AFTERNOON
Rufus woke up to a text from his dad summoning him home. It was something his father had rarely done (he didn’t think his dad even knew how to text), so Rufus made a point of driving direct from London.[*1] Upon arriving at Greshamsbury Hall, he went straight to the ballroom as instructed. The vast room, rarely used by the family, today resembled a war room, with folding tables lining the space and piles of financial and legal documents covering every available surface. Seated on the neoclassical marquetry floor was Thomas Tong, surrounded by knee-high stacks of documents.
“Dr. Tong! Didn’t expect to find you in here,” Rufus greeted him.
Thomas barely looked up. “Hello, Rufus.”
“I just dropped Eden off at the cottage.”
“Ah, she came back with you? I thought she was going to stay in London all week.”
“She changed her mind,” Rufus said. “You’ve been here long?”
“Since breakfast. I’m helping your father sort things out.”
“You’ve been helping Father sort things out for as long as I can remember now.”
“I have, haven’t I?” Thomas said distractedly.
“Why do you do it? Why do you put up with the whole lot of us when you don’t have to?”
Thomas put down the file he was reading and looked up at Rufus thoughtfully. “I’ve known your father since we were thirteen, and we’d been through a fair bit before you came along. I can’t tell you how many times he came to my rescue on the cricket pitch, not to mention at our social.[*2] Radley in my time was quite different than in yours.”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t easy for you back in those days…”
“I was five feet two until about fifteen, and my hair stood out like porcupine quills. What do you think? Everyone called me ‘Chang’—you know, from Tintin. But having your dad on my side meant I never had to worry about getting my head shoved into the latrine. You recall he also captained the rugby team.”