But Lily felt as if there were no time. She couldn’t entirely forget that they only had an hour together. A desire for something more was rising inside her as Kath moved against her, their skirts riding up as their bodies rubbed together. It felt urgent, as if they were counting down the seconds till a bomb would explode. There was no time; they had to do this right now. And she reached for the hem of her skirt and tugged it up to her hips, and she took Kath’s hand and moved it to the cleft of her body.
Kath hesitated. “Are you sure?” she whispered.
“Please,” Lily said, overcome.
So Kath put her hand between Lily’s legs, and Lily helped her, fumbling with her underwear. It was awkward, but when Kath’s fingers touched her, they both gasped.
“Am I in the right place?” Kath asked.
“Yes,” Lily whispered.
It all felt like the right place. Kath’s fingers rubbed and rubbed, and it was so marvelous, so intoxicating—she’d never even really touched herself like this before—and now she was pinned against the side of the filing cabinet, and it made a dull metallic thud as her hand slapped against it.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, but she couldn’t really be sorry because it was all happening so quickly, so unexpectedly, and she clutched Kath close to her as the sensations took over, her body shuddering, and she pressed her face into Kath’s neck until it was over.
There was a minute in which she breathed in and out, in and out, and Kath held her gently, her head resting against the filing cabinet. Then Kath kissed her neck and shifted herself over Lily’s thigh and whispered, “Can I—is this all right?”
“Yes,” Lily said, and she leaned into Kath, holding her as she moved, feeling Kath’s wetness slide against her leg.
It was extraordinary, Lily thought. There was nothing like this in the world. How different this was from when Lily was alone in her room. How different, and how much more: an overflowing amount of more. Kath kept rocking against her thigh, her breath ragged against Lily’s cheek, and Lily stroked her hand over Kath’s hair tenderly, feeling impossibly close to her. How precious she was, and how miraculous.
37
All this time, Shirley had said nothing about Calvin. Earlier, Lily might have been resentful or even jealous, but her own secret was much more important now.
On Friday night, Lily arrived at the Lums’ home to find Shirley and Flora in the living room. Shirley had already put on her Macy’s dress, and when Lily entered, Shirley asked, “Look what I have—do you like my earrings?”
“They’re from Mr. Wong’s store,” Flora said.
Lily took off her coat and came closer to look at the blue drops clipped to Shirley’s ears. They looked like sapphires. “Pretty,” Lily said.
“They go really well with the dress,” Flora said.
“What do you think, Lily?” Shirley asked, twirling around. The dress fit her well. She’d selected a gauzy pastel-blue gown with a full skirt and a Grecian-style draped neckline. She was wearing white patent leather heels and full makeup, with a crimson mouth and the corners of her eyes emphasized by a sweep of eyeliner, and she’d curled her hair and pinned it in place with a rhinestone comb. “Do I look like a good Chinese girl?” Shirley fluttered her eyelashes.
Lily sat down on the sofa and picked her words carefully. “You look like a beauty queen,” she said.
Shirley pursed her lips and walked over to the coffee table, where she had left a written draft of her speech. “Well, the judges better think so,” Shirley said.
“I know they will,” Flora said.
They heard footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later Mary appeared, carrying Shirley’s cheongsam in a garment bag. “I’m sorry I’m late,” Mary said, rushing into the living room. She laid the bag over the back of the sofa and unzipped it to display the dress, which her mother, who was a seamstress, had altered for Shirley. “You should try it on to make sure it fits.”
The cheongsam was sky-blue silk embroidered with white flowers, to coordinate with the Macy’s dress.
“Oh, it’s beautiful! But I’m going to give my speech in this dress,” Shirley said, gesturing to the one she was wearing. “Let me practice in this first. Dress rehearsal! And then I’ll try on the cheongsam. Here, all of you should sit down and be my audience—and my judges.” Shirley moved the cheongsam over to one of the empty armchairs while Mary joined Lily and Flora on the sofa.
Shirley stood across from them, backlit by the windows, and held her speech in both hands as she gave them a bow. “Good evening, gentlemen,” she began.