“Right.”
She comes over and picks up the same dress I’d been holding when Sam came in. “This is my favorite.”
“Me, too.” We smile at each other.
“Claudie at Chanel designed it for me after I signed on as their brand ambassador. It’s one of a kind.” She sounds utterly guileless, and despite myself, I burst out laughing. I think I like Fangli.
She sits down on a chair and crosses her legs in a manner I know I’m going to have to replicate and will find difficult. “I thought we’d chat tonight, get to know each other. I ordered dinner.”
“Thanks. Umm, how was your day?” I pause. “I don’t know much about what you’re doing in Toronto besides acting in a play.”
“All things you should know.” She settles into the chair and I groan inwardly. She’s so fucking graceful, goddammit.
Fangli talks for about an hour as I make notes and nibble on the smoked salmon salad that arrives. It has distractingly good deep-fried capers. She’s here in a play that’s showing on King Street. Operation Oblivion is a World War Two historical drama, and as she talks, I can’t believe I’ve never heard this story before. Apparently there was a group of Chinese-Canadian volunteers called Force 136 recruited for dangerous special missions in Asia.
“This was not covered in my history class,” I say. I think through the dates. “Chinese weren’t even allowed to vote in Canada then.”
“As part of their training, they had to swim with fifty-pound packs,” says Fangli. “Very few of them knew how to swim because they were banned from most Canadian pools.”
Although Force 136’s recruitment happened on the other side of the country, the story follows Sam’s character as he finds one of the first recruits, who is dying in Toronto, and falls in love with Fangli, who works in a Chinatown restaurant.
“Don’t you usually do movies?” I ask. “And shouldn’t those roles go to Canadian actors?”
“Yes, they should and we’re only here for part of the run because Sam is friends with the director and he thought it would be good publicity. We both started in theater back in China.” She recrosses her legs. “I love being on the stage, so it was a nice break. Being in front of an audience is a different experience.”
“I can see that.”
“Do you act?”
“I did in school.” I shrug. “It was only for fun.”
“You enjoyed it?”
“Loved it.”
Her smile lights up her face. “Then you understand why I’m here. How is your practice coming along?”
I take a deep breath. “Take a look.”
Grabbing a pair of heels out of the closet, I pop them on and take a few steps before I stop, smile, and wave. Fangli’s eyes open wide.
“Do it again.” It’s Sam, from the door. I do it again, a little more self-conscious now that he’s here. A lot more.
“It looks strange.” He frowns. “Not like it needs practice but wrong.”
“I practiced in front of the mirror.”
His eyes narrow. “Practiced how, exactly?”
This is embarrassing. “Ah. You know. Like practice.”
He folds his arms and waits for me to answer.
I try to wait him out and fail. He can stand like that for hours, I bet, stubbornly refusing to give in. Fangli watches with those leaf-like eyebrows delicately raised.
I admit defeat. “I propped the tablet near the mirror and copied what I saw.”
“You’re a human uncanny valley.” He and Fangli share a look. “Unbelievable.”
Uncanny valley? “What? I’m not an android.”
He sighs, grabs the tablet, and leads me to the mirror. “Watch.” He taps for a second, finds a video of Fangli smiling and waving, and then plays it.
“I’ve seen this.” I’m insulted. I did my homework.
“You’re not watching.” His voice is the perfect degree of smoky deep. Sam looks in the mirror and our eyes meet in the glass. Then I shift my gaze to his right hand, which waves the same as Fangli does in the video.
“Very elegant,” I say, trying to regain myself.
“Like the Queen,” Fangli interjects. She does the wave in person.
“Except totally wrong.” He turns. “Fangli’s right-handed and that’s how she waves. You’re looking in the mirror and copying it, but that means you’ve been waving your left hand. Everything is backward because her wave was filmed.”