The girl beamed at them. “Oh, they’re coming,” she said in Mandarin-accented English. “They went to get his brother’s car.” She extended her hand. “Edna Yang. Are you coming to the picnic too?”
Lily shook her hand; Edna’s grip was firm and no-nonsense. “Yes, we are. I’m Lily Hu.”
“Shirley Lum,” Shirley said, shaking Edna’s hand as well.
Behind Edna, a stream of people had begun coming up the stairs—girls in skirts and sweaters, boys in chinos and athletic jackets—carrying foil-covered plates and white pastry boxes tied with red string.
Lily and Shirley stepped aside for them, and now the basement entrance seemed like the door to a clown car. The honking of a horn drew Lily’s attention to the street, where a green Plymouth sedan had pulled up, double-parked, and Will leaned out the front passenger window and waved. “Lily! Shirley!” he called.
A young man emerged from the driver’s side of the car, running around to open the trunk, and Lily recognized him as Will’s brother, Calvin. Will got out while the youth group members packed the trunk with picnic supplies. They argued, laughingly, over whether the boxes should be stacked or not, and whether the bottles of soda would be too shaken up by the trip, and then Shirley volunteered to hold the pot of soy sauce chicken on her lap so that it wouldn’t spill. When the trunk was finally closed, the driver of the car came around to the passenger side, and Will said, “Calvin, you remember Shirley and Lily.” Shirley gave him a sort of curtsy because her hands were full with the chicken pot.
“Sure I do,” Calvin said. He had Will’s face, but leaner and more defined, and he smiled at Shirley as he asked, “You really want to carry that pot?”
Shirley laughed. “I’m happy to.”
Calvin had never made much of an impression on Lily, though she had seen enough of him over the years to recognize him. He’d always had his own friends, a couple of years older than Lily and Shirley’s group. Now he was a student at San Francisco State, and Lily couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen him. She noticed Shirley giving him a grateful smile as he helped her into the front seat of the car, then carefully handed her the pot. When he closed the door, he lightly slapped the roof twice, then leaned into the window with an easy smile and said, “You’re all set.”
“We’ll sit in the back,” Will said, opening the rear door for Lily.
“But where are Hanson and Flora?” Lily asked.
“They couldn’t make it,” Shirley called back. “Sorry about that, Will. Get in, Lily.”
There was something about Shirley’s breezy tone that made Lily suspicious, but Shirley had already turned away.
“Lily?” Will said, prompting her.
“Sorry.” She got into the car, sliding across the wide bench seat, and Will climbed in beside her. Lily’s position gave her a good view of Shirley, and now Lily recognized the smile Shirley had turned on Calvin. It was the one she put on when she wanted to impress someone. Lily understood, then, the real reason Shirley had wanted to come on this picnic.
* * *
—
They parked the car along Main Drive in Golden Gate Park, near the glass Conservatory. Calvin was gallant and insisted on taking the chicken pot himself, while Shirley carried the picnic blanket. Lily and Will followed, laden with bags and boxes. They chose a stretch of grass on which to lay out their things, weighting down the blanket’s four corners with the chicken pot, a basket of dishes and utensils, and bottles of soda.
It was a beautiful day, still and warm beneath a clear blue sky, and before long Shirley took off her pink cardigan to reveal a matching pink sweater shell beneath. Lily realized she had never seen this pink twinset before, nor the baby-blue-checked capri pants her friend wore. Shirley always took care with her appearance, but Lily thought Shirley had made a special effort today. She was wearing clip-on earrings of pink flowers with rhinestone centers that glittered in the sunlight, and her hair was carefully pulled back to show them off.
Lily had no opportunity to ask Shirley about her new clothes, however, because Calvin and Will were always going back and forth from the car with more picnic supplies, and Shirley was busily acting as hostess, arranging and rearranging the dishes and napkins and asking Calvin to open a soda for her.
Finally, the bus that the other members of the youth group had taken arrived up on Main Drive. They spilled out, carrying boxes of pastries and a long duffel bag that contained volleyball equipment. Once they had all gathered together, Lily counted about two dozen people in total—a relatively even mix of girls and boys—almost all in college, though a few were in high school. The college students seemed so much older to Lily; they were friendly to her, but they treated her like a little sister. Several of them spoke Mandarin, which was uncommon in Chinatown, where people mostly spoke Cantonese. Lily soon learned that the Mandarin speakers were students from China—exiles now, unable to go home because of the political situation.