Mrs. Woo turned to Grace and said, “Miss Wing, you are the oldest daughter in your family, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Grace said, though Mrs. Woo knew this already.
“Grace is the star of her family,” Mrs. Woo said to Joseph. “Not many girls graduate from college, and even fewer enter nursing school.”
“Mrs. Woo, you’re flattering me.”
“But it’s true. Mr. Hu should know he is speaking with one of San Francisco’s smartest young ladies.”
Mrs. Woo beamed at the two of them, and Grace was both embarrassed and a little pleased by how obvious Mrs. Woo’s matchmaking attempts were. “I’ve only tried to make my parents proud,” Grace said, attempting humility.
“And I’m sure they are,” Joseph said.
Did he sound admiring or amused? Grace wasn’t sure.
Mrs. Woo abruptly said, “Oh, look at the time! I must go and see Mrs. Leong before she leaves today. It was wonderful to meet you, Mr. Hu. And, Miss Wing, thank you for your medical advice.”
Grace and Joseph both stood as Mrs. Woo rose to leave, and then they looked at each other, holding their empty coffee cups awkwardly, and Joseph said, “Well, now that you know everything about me, do you feel safe sitting down with me alone?”
She saw the corner of his mouth twitch and thought, He’s definitely amused now. “Of course, let’s sit,” Grace said. He made her a little nervous, but in a pleasant way.
They took their seats again, and she put her empty cup and saucer on Mrs. Woo’s abandoned chair, and Joseph set his down beside it. She glanced around the fellowship hall, where the rest of the congregation was milling about with their coffees and sandwiches. None of them seemed to be looking at her and Joseph in their corner, but Grace had the feeling that everyone knew they were there. When she turned back to Joseph, his expression had changed to one of curiosity.
“You said you came here only a few months ago,” Joseph said. “Where did you move from? Not China?”
“No, Santa Barbara. I was born there.”
“An American girl,” he said. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled.
“我係唐人，”* she said in Cantonese, a little pertly.
“你們老家在哪裡？”* Joseph asked in Mandarin.
“你話咩話？”* Grace asked. She did not understand.
His smile turned regretful. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak your dialect.”
She knew only a little about the Chinese scholars who came to America to study. They were mostly from Shanghai, usually from well-connected or wealthy families, and they didn’t mingle much with the American Chinese—at least not the American Chinese that Grace knew. Joseph was the first such student she had spoken to directly, and she found him difficult to categorize. He didn’t fulfill her image of a mandarin; he was too young and too Westernized. Nor did he seem American, exactly, though he spoke English with hardly a trace of an accent.
“How are you liking San Francisco?” he asked her. “Do you miss Santa Barbara? I’ve never been there. Is it far?”
“It’s a few hours south on the train,” Grace answered. “It’s warmer than San Francisco, and of course I miss my family.”
“How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
“Only two. Two younger brothers. We’re a small family because my father died when I was eleven.”
“That must have been hard for your mother.”
“She’s a strong woman. She took over running my father’s export-import store in the little Chinatown there, and I helped her until my brothers were old enough to do more, and now they run the store with her.”
“What does your family store sell?”
“A little of everything. Products from China—we have to serve the local population. You know, dried vegetables, herbs. Medicines. Some chinaware, silks, everything.” Grace fell silent, wondering if she was boring him. The store had always bored her.
He gave her an encouraging smile, and asked, “Do you want to go home after nursing school, to continue helping with the family business?”
Grace couldn’t imagine going back to work in their store. She had barely escaped by getting into nursing school. “I’ll have to see what my mother needs,” she said diplomatically. “Will you go back? To China?”
“Of course. China needs Western-trained doctors. And engineers and architects—and nurses, too. We’re in a difficult situation right now, as you probably know.”