Juliette suddenly paused. Where Roma swerved around the woman by the canal scrubbing at her laundry, Juliette’s gaze latched on to the soap suds running along the concrete and into the water. The woman paid no attention, crouched over her task. The soap suds approached the edge . . .
Juliette dove toward the canal, her knees scraping the ground and her hand closing around the small string of pearls just as they fell over the edge, saving the jewelry before it could be washed into the water. The woman gave a cry of surprise, startled by Juliette’s quick rescue.
“I gather that this isn’t something you intended to toss into the canal,” Juliette said, holding out the soapy pearls.
The woman blinked, realizing what had happened. She gasped, dropping her laundry and waving her hands around with fervor. “Goodness, you are heaven sent! I must have left it in one of the pockets.”
Juliette offered a small, amused smile, dropping the string back into the woman’s hand. “Not heaven sent; I can just spot pearls from two miles away.”
There came the sound of someone clearing their throat, and Juliette looked up to find Roma waiting, brow quirked to ask why she was lingering and chatting. The woman, however, was still turned to Juliette, the crow’s feet of her eyes crinkling deeper in kindness.
“Who are your parents? I’ll bring some luóbosī cake over later as a thank-you.”
Juliette scrambled for an answer. Roma, overhearing the offer, cleared his throat again to urge Juliette to hurry up and extricate herself.
“Oh,” Juliette said carefully. “I’m . . . I’m not from around here.”
She didn’t know why she was being so delicate around the subject. She could have easily said that they had come in from Shanghai. But there was something entirely too genuine about the woman’s offer, something untainted by the usual give-and-take exchange of the city. Juliette didn’t want to ruin it. She didn’t want to pop the illusion.
“Oh?” the woman said. “But you look familiar.”
Juliette pulled her coat tighter around herself, then nudged a loose lock of hair behind her ear. She stood up, trying to signal to an impatient Roma that she was trying to wrap this up.
“I drop in sometimes,” Juliette lied. “To see . . . my grandmother.”
“Ah,” the woman said, nodding. She turned her head out toward the water, closing her eyes for the wind to blow against her face. “It is a peaceful place to retire, isn’t it?”
Yes, Juliette thought without hesitation. Peace—that was the all-consuming sensation making the township sound different to her ear and the air smell different to her nose. It was unlike anything she had ever known.
“Dorogaya,” Roma prompted suddenly. The only reason was to avoid using her name, Juliette knew. He was playing along with the little act Juliette had put on for the woman, but her gaze jerked up anyway, her heart rabbiting in her chest. She wished he wouldn’t throw the word around like that. It used to mean something. It used to be sacred—moya dorogaya, I love you, I love you whispered against her lips.
“I must go,” Juliette told the woman, taking her leave. She surged a few steps ahead of Roma, not wanting him to see her expression until she had a handle on herself. She would have continued forward aimlessly if Roma hadn’t called out again.
“Slow down. It’s this way.”
Juliette turned around, seeing Roma point across a narrow bridge. As he started to climb, Juliette only stood by the canal, watching the water run languidly beneath the short structure.
“I kept them, you know.”
Roma stopped at the top of the bridge. “What?”
All the pearls and diamonds. All the bracelets he had picked for her later in their relationship and that one necklace when they were fifteen—the first gift he had given before he kissed her on the rooftop of that jazz club. She kept them all, took them in a box with her to New York, even though she said she wouldn’t.
“Did you say something?” Roma prompted again.
Juliette shook her head. It was for the best that Roma hadn’t heard her. What was the point of telling him any of that? This place was making her sentimental.
“Juliette,” Roma chided when she remained yet unmoving. “A word of warning that if you fall into the water from there, I will not be coming to your rescue. Come on.”
“I’m a better swimmer than you are anyway,” Juliette shot back darkly, clutching her fists and finally starting her climb. The stone under her feet seemed to sink in and shift around. Once they were on flat ground again, Roma ducked his head to avoid a shop sign and stepped into an alley, his eyes tracing the markings along the wall; Juliette simply trusted that he was navigating correctly, more concerned with where she was stepping in case her shoes caught an uneven brick and she tripped.