“Good. Then I’ll bring out breakfast.”
Today’s breakfast was seaweed soup, rice, some grilled fish, and picked vegetables.
“Why do you always sit way on the corner like that?” Shizuka asked.
“It’s where I can get the best Wi-Fi signal.”
“Wi-Fi?”
Katrina lowered her head. “It’s fine.”
The seaweed soup and fish were delicious, but for once Katrina barely seemed to notice. Shizuka remembered that Kiana would pout this way when she had her heart set on something but did not know how to ask.
“If you need a Wi-Fi, we can get a Wi-Fi. Right, Astrid?”
“Of course, Miss Satomi.”
“Really? We could get Wi-Fi?” Katrina’s face was a mix of gratitude and disbelief.
Her expression reminded Shizuka of what Tremon had said. She felt slightly nauseated with herself.
“I can look up some data plans and providers around here, if you like.” Katrina continued excitedly. “And once I get online, I can post videos, so I can pay for the connection.”
“Oh? Those must be wonderful videos,” Astrid said.
Katrina made a peculiar face, but before Shizuka could probe further, her phone rang.
“Hello? Lan?”
* * *
Legacy.
Lucy Matía’s grandfather had located here in El Monte right after the war. Here was a place close enough for his clients, yet far enough that he could, as he said, hear the instruments breathe.
Here just a few miles southeast of downtown, was a place where no one really cared about the film you were in or the screenplay you had optioned. Many people here wouldn’t be able to read it anyway, unless it was in Spanish or Vietnamese, or some Chinese dialect or another.
Here were families with grandparents and young children. Senior classes were being held yet again at the aquatic center. Next summer as usual, kids would line up for another turn in the batting cage.
And, of course, here was the Big Donut.
The new owners had fit in perfectly. The family was friendly; the kids were cute. The new owner didn’t look worried or grab her cell phone when she saw a family of Mexicans walk in the door. And sometimes customers would notice they’d been given an extra old-fashioned or bear claw for free.
But it was more than their attitude. Lucy remembered a discussion she had shared with Mrs. Thamavuong. She had been ecstatic about the new owners, not only because they were going to keep Starrgate a donut shop, but because they wanted to preserve its legacy, as well.
She had told Lucy that she and her husband were eager to meet the family and spend time to train them. They wanted the new family to have not only their recipes, but also their exact ingredients, equipment settings, and secret cooking techniques.
“Anyone can make a donut,” Mrs. Thamavuong said. “But we want to help them make a Starrgate donut.”
Lucy had received advanced certifications in woodwork, obsessively studied the history of luthierie, and had even put herself through upper-division physics and materials science while at Cal State. But schooling was one thing. Legacy was another.
Lucy recalled that hipster Latin-Fusion bistro that had started a couple of years ago up the street, with a chef from Denver touting his authentic Oaxacan ingredients and selection of upscale single-barrel tequilas.
She was sure he had done his research. And one can’t ruin tequila. But the fact was that his burritos weren’t as good as the ones from the place around the corner, and the place around the corner was cheaper, and sometimes you just wanted a beer.
Needless to say, the bistro wasn’t there anymore.
Legacy. It mattered for burritos. For donut shops.
For violins.
Sure, she could fix a violin. But though Lucy was of the same family, of the same blood—she was never trained in the secret ingredients and techniques that made the Matías the Matías. For those were only passed from grandfather to father, father to son, at night. When the stars came out, the workshop doors were closed, and pretty girls like her could only sit outside, close their eyes, and try with all their might to hear.
Beep!
A car horn shook Lucy from her thoughts. She looked up just as Shizuka’s vintage Jaguar sped past her.
Lucy waved, but Shizuka was too busy giggling to notice.
The Queen of Hell was giggling? And, in her car was … the donut lady?
Legacy?
Despite herself, Lucy had to laugh.
13
“Watch out!”
“Watch where?”
Valley Boulevard was its usual turbulence of BMWs coming to full stops at green lights, Priuses slowing for no reason, and pickup trucks and Chevys trying to cut around all of it and get home to Duarte.