Fangli stands and then sits again. “My father kept this from me as well.” Her laugh is more of a bark. “Everyone lied to me.”
“Should I have told you?” Now I’m uncertain I made the right decision.
“Yes.” She’s sure. “This isn’t your fault.”
“I know. I guess I feel…” I hesitate, trying to name the emotion. “Guilty?”
She puts the album down on the coffee table. “Is that drink offer on?”
“Fuck, yes.” She follows me to the kitchen, where I skip the beer and wine and grab a bottle of gin from the cupboard. I pour us two very generous drinks, dump in some ice and soda, and we toss them down like water.
“Guilty.” She says it slowly. “Why?”
I shrug but when I go to pour myself another drink, she puts her hand on the bottle. “Later,” she says. “After we talk.”
She’s right. “I feel bad I had time with Mom that you didn’t.”
When she laughs this time, it sounds more like Fangli. “Not much you could do about that.”
“I’m mad at her, too,” I burst out. “I’m mad and I can’t be because I know she tried and she’s sick and what she did to me is nothing to what she did to you and I don’t understand why no one told me and—”
My big sister steps forward to enfold me in a tight hug. I clutch onto her, feeling her warmth under my hands as she simply lets me be safe in her arms. As we stand there, I feel her shake and she exhales, thin and unsteady.
“It’s okay,” I tell her and feel her nod hard against me. “We’ll be good.”
“Right,” she says, laying her head on my shoulder. “Fine.”
When we untangle, we look at each other. Fangli’s a mess, with a red nose and swollen eyes and creases along her cheek from pressing into the seam of my shirt. I assume I look as bad. This time, she doesn’t stop me from pouring another shot and edges her glass forward when it looks like I’m going to stop pouring.
“You don’t drink,” I remember when she refuses more ice. “I was never allowed to drink wine when I was out as you.”
She takes a sip. “Because it’s too hard to control my words when I drink. No filter. This, however, is a special occasion and a time for honesty if I’ve ever seen one.”
We go back to the living room. Now that we’ve reached the first base camp on Mount Reconciliation, I’m not sure if I need a break or want to power on.
Fangli paces around my space. “I have so much to say and I don’t know where to start.” She sits down and drains her glass before clinking it down on the table. “No. I’m going to say it. Next topic is Sam.”
We’re climbing again.
“Right.” I hold up my hand. “I need to…” Congratulate you on your engagement. I can’t get the words out.
“Did you see the announcement? That we’re getting married?”
“I did. Congratulations.” There, I managed it with a smile.
“A lie,” she says vehemently. “That snake Lu Lili told that story.”
My eyes go wide. “What?”
“Sam isn’t in love with me, nor I him. We are friends only.” She narrows her eyes. “You knew that. He made it clear enough.”
I avoid that. “Why would she say that?”
“Sam went home and told her to stay out of his life.” She smiles proudly. “He’s never done that before. Lili is a power and he finally had it out with her.”
“Then where did the announcement come from?”
“Lili tried to force his hand. Sam was furious, as was my father. She overstepped.”
I thump back into the chair. “What are you going to do?”
“Say we broke it off and hope it plays well for Sam’s movie release.” She adjusts her sleeves. “We have to let Lili save some face, but this is enough for her to know her limits. At least there was a gold lining because she’ll never try to do that again. Sam feels free.”
“Do you mean silver lining?”
She laughs. “Gold. Lu Lili would have nothing less than the best.”
To know they’re not engaged buoys me up and I can’t stop grinning, even though it doesn’t mean anything for Sam and me. “About Sam…” I don’t know how to finish the sentence.
“I’ve never seen him more miserable,” Fangli says. “It’s hard for him to connect with people.”