He looked at her from bended knee, and she said nothing. He touched her knee, and she still said nothing. He lifted her skirt and kissed her knee. I knew what would happen next. I saw it in her eyes. She had grown stupid. I left the room.
Golden Dove scolded her the next morning: “I can tell he leeched onto your body and heart again. It’s in those bright eyes and the tiny turned-up corners of your mouth. You’re still remembering what he did last night, aren’t you? That man must possess the magic of a thousand men to put enough lust between your legs to remove your brain at the same time.”
“Last night meant nothing to me,” my mother said. “I gave in to an old itch. We had our lewd fun between the sheets and now I’m finished with him.”
Three weeks later, Fairweather sauntered into the common room with his chimpanzee smile and went to Mother with arms wide open. “You better give me a kiss, Missy Minturn, because I’ve just reserved two cabins on a ship that leaves two days from now. Is that not proof of love?”
Her eyes went wide, but she did not move. He told her in a rush that he had heard the call for help through the Shanghai business grapevine, and although she was angry with him, and he with her, he felt he could redeem her trust in him and win her back by providing what she so desperately needed.
They left the common room and went to her study. I finished my breakfast quickly and then went to Boulevard, arranged my books and writing sheets sloppily on the table into a picture of studiousness, and then put my ear to the cold glass. I heard his sickening love talk of heartaches and a life without purpose, how purpose was renewed when he found a way to help her. He provided a copious number of endearments, along with the usual declarations of pain everlasting. And then he switched tack. “Lu darling, we had such fun the other night, didn’t we? My God! I’ve never seen you with that much sexual fire. I feel the flames in my loins just thinking about it, don’t you?” There was a long silence, which I hoped was not a kiss—or more.
“Get off me,” she said roughly. “I want to hear more about this latest peace offering first.”
He laughed. “All right. But don’t forget about my reward. And when you hear what I found you, perhaps you’ll consider doubling the award. Are you ready? Two cabin reservations on a steamer—only three stops—Hong Kong, Haiphong, and Honolulu. Twenty-four days to San Francisco. The cabins are not first class. I’m not God enough to pull that miracle. But the cabins are decent, portside. All I need are your passports. Don’t worry. I have the reservations, but I am required to show the passports by tomorrow to secure the booking.”
“I’ll give you mine. But a child traveling with her mother does not require one.”
“The steamship’s purchasing agent told me the passport is required of all passengers, man, woman, and child. If Violet does not have one, it’s a simple matter of presenting her birth certificate at the American Consulate to have one issued. She does have a birth certificate, doesn’t she?”
“Of course. I have it right here.”
I heard the scrape of chair legs, the click of a key, the squeak of a drawer pulled out. “Where is it?” she exclaimed.
“When did you last look?”
“There was never a reason to look. All my important documents are here, under lock and key.” She cursed, opened more drawers and slammed them.
“Calm yourself,” he said. “Another one can be issued by the consulate easily enough.”
It was hard to hear what my mother was saying. She was mumbling to herself … something about an orderly office … never misplacing anything.
“You’re losing your mind, Lulu,” Fairweather said. “Come here. We can fix this easily enough.”
She mumbled again and all I could hear was the word stolen.
“Come now, Lu darling, be rational. Why would anyone want to steal Violet’s birth certificate? It doesn’t make sense. Put it out of your mind. I can get both her birth certificate and passport from the consulate tomorrow. What name did you put on the birth certificate? That’s all I need to know.”
I heard her say the name “Tanner,” and “husband” and “American.”
“Married?” Fairweather said. “I knew you loved him and the two of you lived together. But you certainly went to extremes for Violet’s sake. Well, that’s all good to hear. It means she is an American and of legitimate birth, a citizen. Just think how difficult it would have been if you had used the name of her real father, the Chinese one.”
I felt punched by his words. Why did this despicable man know so much about me?
In the evening, Fairweather returned with a downcast face. He and my mother went to her office. I took my usual position in Boulevard. I had already taken care earlier in the day to put the doors ajar and part the curtains. “They have no record of birth for Violet,” he said.
“That’s impossible. Are you sure you used the right name?” She wrote furiously on a sheet of paper and showed it to him.
“I used the very name and spelled it correctly, as you’ve written it. There is no record for Violet, no child at all for Lulu Minturn. I was thorough and checked that as well.”
“How stupid of me,” Mother said. “We used my given name, Lucretia, on both the marriage certificate and her birth certificate. Here, I’ll write it down.”
“Lucretia! I must confess, the name doesn’t suit you. What else have you kept from me? Another husband? Any more names I can use to investigate further?”
“This is absurd. I’ll go down immediately and get the damn certificate myself.”
“Lulu darling, there is no point in doing so. They likely lost a box of records, and no amount of strong-arming is going to unearth it in time for your departure from Shanghai.”
“If we cannot get her a passport,” Mother said, “we are not leaving. We’ll simply have to wait.”
She would wait for me. She loved me. This was proof I had never had before.
“I figured you would say that, so I’ve come up with my own timely solution. I’ve found someone highly placed, a genuine pooh-bah who has agreed to help. I cannot reveal his identity—that’s how important he is. But I did him a favor once, which I have kept secret for many years—an indiscretion involving the son of a man whose name you would recognize, a Chinese celestial to many. So the pooh-bah and I are excellent friends. He assures me we can obtain the necessary paperwork that will allow Violet to enter the United States. I simply have to declare that I am her father.”
I nearly shouted in disgust. My mother laughed. “How fortunate that is not the truth.”
“Why do you insult your daughter’s savior? I’ve been going to a great deal of trouble to help.”
“And I am waiting for you to tell me how you would accomplish that and what you want in exchange for your trumped-up fatherhood. I won’t deceive myself into thinking our catapulting passion the other night is compensation enough.”
“Another round of that will be. I take nothing as profit. The money needed is for necessary expenses only.”
“By the way, since honesty is at issue here, what is your real name, the one you propose to give Violet?”
“Believe it or not, it really is Fairweather, Arthur Fairweather. I turned it into a joke before others could make it one.”
The fake father laid out his plans. Mother would have to give him the money now to purchase the two cabins on the ship and to compensate the pooh-bah. He would deliver the tickets in the morning and whisk me to the consulate. At noon, she should send the trunks on to the ship and board early to safeguard the cabins from squatters. Fairweather sounded too lighthearted, too practiced to be telling the truth. He wanted her money.
“Do