The Prosperous

    The entry hall of the Park household was already bustling with people by the time Jonathan arrived. Lanterns hung low from the ceiling, giving off their golden light through the filmy red paper. Dangling tassels scraped the heads of the tallest visitors, tickling their hair out of place. Streamers had been strung across the walls. Someone—most likely Aunt Eileen—had gone through and painted characters in thick strokes of obsidian paint on hanging scarlet banners. Jonathan stared at the characters as he shook the snow from his coat and closed the door: there was “fortune,” that was “luck.” He couldn’t remember the others.         

    It had been several years since he’d been to one of the Chinese New Year parties that his aunts put together. He’d spent the previous year in Michigan with Esther’s family, the year before that on a company holiday cruise that had brushed past the coastal cities of Mexico. And before that…well, he and Esther had wanted to spend their first few holidays together at home in Sacramento. The only reason he’d come this year was because the trip happened to coincide with a business trip. He’d thought about skipping the party altogether, to give himself more time to work on the financial analyses of the Manhattan branch. Then he’d seen Alfred Tang’s name on the top of the online invitation list his Aunt Tina had sent him.

    “Not as many people as I imagined,” said Esther. Jonathan nodded his reply, watching as she struggled to take off her galoshes, restrained inside a crimson dress that hugged her thighs. Highlights of gold made up the collar and the cuffs, matching ribbons woven into her black hair. “I don’t think that he’ll be here. You’ll just have to enjoy yourself, I guess.”

    As soon as Esther was ready he led the way through the gentle press of people. The decorations followed them, the ceiling and walls bleeding red. The regular lights had all been left off, leaving the traditional lanterns to light the way with their dim glow.

    “Dancing? They have dancing?” Esther called over the noise of the party. They’d just passed an open doorway decorated with crepe-paper dragons. Music emanated from the room beyond, lights flashing from makeshift DJ stand at the head of the room.

    “Not yet. I need to say hi to my aunts first.”

    “You like this song—let’s dance. We’ll see them for the firecrackers.”

    “Go ahead,” answered Jonathan, pulling his arm from hers. “I don’t like this song.”

    “You’re going to come find me later, right?”

    “Maybe.”

    She gave him an impatient look that he pointedly ignored, prompting her to retreat into the sea of red party-goers. Jonathan squeezed onward through the crowds to the back of the house, following the scents of cooking food as they mingled in the party musk. Halfway to the kitchen he was accosted by a familiar figure wearing a gold slip dress that was far too revealing. Amy Park—cousin on his mother’s side—had a habit of drawing undue attention to herself.

    “Mr. Chen, I didn’t realize we had the honor of hosting such a distinguished guest this evening,” Amy said. She gave an overexaggerated bow, holding out a slip of red paper in his hand. “Tell me, did you bring an escort this evening?”

    “Esther is dancing,” said Jonathan, smiling as he took the red envelope and tucked it into the inside pocket of his suit. From the same pocket he removed a similar envelope, printed on cheap paper. He handed it casually to Amy, eschewing the bow. The noise of the room rose around them, riotous jeers rolling out from the dance room.

    “I didn’t think you were going to come.”

    “I wasn’t planning on it.”

    “What changed your mind?”

    “Have you seen Alfred Tang around? I saw he was on the guest list.”

    Amy rolled her eyes at him. “Seriously? You came to talk to him? This is supposed to be fun. You know what fun is, right? It means no business.”

    “Have you seen him?”

    “Don’t know. Been busy dancing with a hottie from Queens.”

    “The dancing was your idea, wasn’t it? I don’t remember any dancing last time I came.”

    “It’s been a while since you came,” said Amy. She lifted her arms over her head and swung her hips as the muffled music changed to an upbeat song. “There’s more young people now. These aren’t the stuffy old lady parties they used to be!”

    “Is your mom in the back?”

    “Setting out more dumplings. She and Aunt Eileen are waiting for you. Be careful they don’t squeeze you to death before you get the chance to talk to your precious business man.”

    Jonathan smiled again and—after bowing briefly to his cousin—continued through the crowds and to the kitchen doorway.

    The aunts were elated to see Jonathan. Tina gave him a warm smile as she pinched dumplings, and Eileen couldn’t stop herself from rushing over and giving him a greedy hug as she fussed over how skinny he was and wasn’t that wife of his cooking enough for a man? Jonathan finally managed to extricate himself from her arms, forcing a smile as he pulled two red envelopes from his inside coat pocket and handed one to each of the women.

    “Spring and fortune,” he said, giving each of the envelopes a nod in turn.

    “Prosperity,” said Aunt Tina.

    “Fertility,” said Aunt Eileen with a significant look.

    He took the red envelopes and stowed them.

    “Did you bring Esther with you?” asked Tina.

    “She’s around here somewhere,” said Jonathan. “Say, have you seen Alfred Tang?”

    “Oh, is that why you’re here?” asked Eileen. “And here I thought that you were actually excited to see us. What a disappointment.”

    “I’m still here to see you,” said Jonathan, chuckling. “But I thought that I might as well try and talk to Mr. Tang while he’s here. If our conversation goes well, then I’ll be able to stop by your house whenever I want, instead of once every five years.”

    “Don’t you threaten me like that,” replied Eileen. “I can’t have you stopping by here every day. I’ll get sick of you and all your business talk. And when you have children—a disaster. They’ll run around tearing things up, like you used to do.”

    “Last I saw he was in the dance room with his family,” said Aunt Tina, giving Jonathan a wink. “Speaking of which, what are you doing here in our kitchen? You, Mr. Chen, are a guest and should act as such. Go dance with that wife of yours. Shoo!”

    The dance room had slowed down considerably by the time he arrived. Already people were starting to leave the party, going in search of venues with more space, louder music, and stronger alcohol. The music had changed pace as well, more romantic. Couples were taking to the floor, slow dancing around each other in swaying circles from song to song.

    It took Jonathan some time to spot Esther, but eventually he saw her leaning against the opposite wall with a drink in hand. She was talking with a man dressed in an all-red suit, black-accented lapel and pocket square. He thought about going to her, but then she’d want him to dance. Even if she didn’t want to dance, she would want them to because that’s what couples did.

    Another person caught Jonathan’s gaze. A tall man, black hair slicked back in a shiny wave. He watched the dancing crowd with a smile, eyes crinkling with mirth. Jonathan followed the man’s gaze and found a woman dancing in goofy, exaggerated movements with her son. His head barely reached her shoulders. Two other children danced nearby, a daughter and a son copying their mother and older brother.

    Jonathan approached the man on the side of the room, stooping his head into a deep bow as he spoke. “Mr. Tang, what a surprise it is to meet you here.”

    “Mr. Chen,” said Alfred, taking Jonathan’s hand and shaking it gently. “Yes, what a surprise! Last time I saw you was in Sacramento. What are you doing all the way out here?”

    “My aunts are Tina and Eileen Park. I came out here for their party. And for some business. Saunders sent me to analyze the accounts here in Manhattan.”

    “You’re Tina’s nephew? You must be Anna’s son then—you know that I grew up with them, didn’t you? I never knew…what a small world.”

    “Small world,” Jonathan repeated. “But fortune abounds this time of year, doesn’t it? You know—” He paused, unsure of how to go forward. It wouldn’t do for Tang to get the wrong idea about why he’d come here tonight. “You know, I’ve actually thought a lot about that presentation you did at our company. I learned a lot from you that day.”

    “Oh?” said Tang, but he wasn’t looking at Jonathan. His eyes were distant, half-fixed on his family, foot tapping to the rhythm, a contented smile resting on his lips.

    “Yes. And I was thinking…well, I don’t know if you have any positions open, but I’d love to come and work for your company—if you’d have me. I showed you a bit of the work that I’d done for the United Horizon bank, and you said that you were in need of more financial analysts like me and I was thinking—wondering whether or not you had a position.”

    “In Sacramento?” asked Tang, looking at Jonathan for the first time. “I’m afraid that we don’t have any centers in California. We’re an east coast-based company, you know.”

    “Of course. If you still need a financial analyst, I’d be willing to move here.”

    “What about your family?”

    “Most of them are either here or down in Baltimore. And my wife’s family is in Michigan, so we’d be closer to them as well.”

    “No, I mean your family. Your wife and children. Picking them up and moving across the country is an enormous undertaking. Speaking from experience, of course.”

    “Oh,” said Jonathan, taken aback. Whatever he’d been expecting from this conversation, it hadn’t been this. “Well, I don’t have children. Just the wife.”

    “No kids? Have you been married long?”

    “Going on five years this spring.”

    “Do you plan on having children any time soon?”

    Jonathan’s eyes found his wife again, still slumped against the opposite wall. The red-coated man was no longer there, replaced by a group of women wearing too-high heels. A memory passed across his vision. A party like this one, lots of dancing. They’d actually danced then—swaying together to the beat of the music, hips pressed together as they talked about their long future, a lifetime of open-ended possibilities. They’d created their world, structuring it with words and plans and a sure knowledge that they would be together through all of it. They’d spoken of children then. Perhaps that was when things started to go poorly. She had wanted them—four—and he had not. Not yet, keep waiting, they’ll come when we’re ready. No. It had almost been the idea of her wanting them that had turned him off to it, made him put up that front against her that had grown with each conversation.

    “I’m not sure,” said Jonathan, coming back to himself and Tang’s question. “My wife wants kids but…it just isn’t what I’m worried about right now.” His old reasons came back to him. “I’m preparing a future for them. Making sure that I can support them financially for when they do come. Giving them the best opportunity for success.”

    Tang chuckled. “Let me tell you one thing about parenting, Mr. Chen—you’re never ready. It’s an experience you have to live. I thought after Charlie I’d be ready for the second. Then Vera came and a girl is a whole different ordeal. And when we were expecting another boy, then I thought that I was ready. Already had one of each—I could handle anything. But then came Martin. I don’t know what I was thinking.

    “But I’ll tell you; they are the best thing that has ever happened to me. My job, the people I get to know, the money that I make…none of it matters if I can’t come home to Susan at the end of the day. And Charlie, Veronica, Martin…they’re what keeps me going. If I ever start to doubt myself or my abilities, I remember them and it makes me stronger.”

    “Maybe someday. Just not right now.”

    “That’s my answer to you,” said Mr. Tang, turning back to watch his children. “Focus on your family. Think about where you want to establish yourself. Consider not just where you see yourself professionally in five years, but where you see your family. You might think it’s unprofessional or silly for me to ask you to do that, but I’m in the business of hiring solid team members that will be with us for the long haul. Kids change a lot of things. Write to me in a month or so, and I’ll see if I can find a place for you in my business.”

    He handed a business card to Jonathan, ending the conversation.

    Jonathan flipped the card over, trying to repress the ire that had sprouted up as Tang had been speaking. This card had been the whole reason that he’d wanted to come to this party, only now it was worthless in his hands. He’d come here to talk about business, not to hear some heartfelt spiel on the importance of child-bearing. Who was this man to be telling him what he should or shouldn’t be considering about his own future? As if it was his place—his right—to instill upon Jonathan all of the lessons that he had learned in life. What did it matter if Jonathan had children or a family at all? It had no effect on his abilities as a financial analyst.

    The man was obviously drunk, Jonathan reasoned. He felt like sneering, but instead bowed his head stiffly and stepped away, stuffing the card in with the red envelopes as soon as he was out of sight. He skulked around the edge of the dance room for the rest of the evening, avoiding talking to anyone else. Esther wandered from one side of the room to the other, passing within a foot of him at one point. They didn’t look at each other, but he knew that she was there. The stench of alcohol followed her, mingling with the perfume that she’d put on in the hotel. He hated that she wore it, mostly because he knew that she wasn’t trying to impress him.

    When the last guests had gone and Amy had left on the arm of a tall stranger, Jonathan collected Esther and stopped by the kitchen to talk with the aunts. They’d finally sat down at the dining table, drinking jade cocktails across from Tang and his wife. Tina and Eileen were all over Esther, asking her about Sacramento and her job. Eileen made a point of writing out for her a few home medicine mélanges that emphasized fertility, prompting Esther to turn red-faced and Tang to give Jonathan a knowing wink. Jonathan gave a forced smile back before greeting everyone goodnight and pulling Esther from the room.

    “Did you talk to him?” she asked as she pulled on her galoshes at the front door.

    “No. He was too busy dancing with his kids,” Jonathan lied. He didn’t know why he’d let Tang’s words get to him. The whole conversation seemed ridiculous now. Think about starting a family…what ridiculous business advice. It was a wonder that a man like that had ever become the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Business wasn’t about family. It was a vicious world of powerplays and burning bridges. Alfred Tang had been looking for a way to reject him as politely as possible without upsetting his hostess’ nephew.

    Red and gold firecrackers were already popping up on the city horizon by the time he and Esther stepped out into the snowy streets. The missiles spewed into the air with distant hisses and whistles, reaching the sky where they burst full-bodied ember blooms and boomed belatedly. Their dying sparks floated down on the city, mingling indistinctly with the falling snow.

    Jonathan watched with satisfaction as they made their way down the street. Esther walked close to him, her body pressing warmly into his side. He could feel her body shiver, let his arm wrap around her. She resisted at first. But eventually her stiff body relaxed into his, if only for warmth. He thought of their hotel room, a plush suite paid for by the company.

    “It’s cold out,” said Esther. “How far is the hotel?”

    “Only another block or so.”

    “Want to call a cab?”

    “Not really.”

    “You want your shoes to get wet?”

    “They’re fine. I just want to see the firecrackers.”

    He watched her as she nodded. The snow in her hair gave the impression of a clear night sky, white flakes forming constellations in her dark strands. In that moment, she was beautiful again. In that moment, he wanted her to look at him.

    “Did you want us to call a cab.”

    “The snow’s fine.”

    “We could get one if you want.”

    “I saw you talking to Mr. Tang.”

    But she still wasn’t looking at him. He could feel her body grow stiff again, pulling farther away the longer that he went without replying. He tried to think of what to say to her, but as he considered her body a pang of lust rose up within him, a heat that burned hotter than any of the firecrackers, bursting up in a rush of heightened senses. He let his hand slip with her movement, falling from her hip to her thigh. She pulled away again, and he felt his pride replaced with a sudden spark of annoyance.

    She stayed apart from him as they turned into the hotel lobby and made their way up the elevator, walking just in front of him down the low hallway carpeted in ugly swirls. The room was dark when they walked in. Jonathan watched in passion as Esther made her way to the window without turning on the lights. They’d left the curtains undrawn, and beyond the thin pane of glass the world was alight with distant sparks of red and gold. Snow dropped in a close plane, thick clusters gathering on the windowsill.

    Jonathan stepped up behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her once more. Yes, she was upset. But when wasn’t she upset recently? He merely needed to help her get into the mood, to make up for the pointlessness of the party and his conversation with Mr. Tang. He pressed his body against hers. He rested his chin on her shoulder. He needed her to want it. His lips brushed against her cheek, expecting at any moment for her head to turn and her lips to meet his, to consent, to give him what he so desperately wanted in this moment.

    A tear slipped down her cheek, wetting his lips.

    He froze, totally unprepared for the salty wetness that met his lips. Then frustration boiled up in his chest again. Why was she crying now? He’d brought her across the country to a party that they’d attended together, as a couple. There was no reason for her to cry, not now, not in this moment, not when he felt about her as he did in this moment.

    Her voice was quiet when she spoke. “How can you just do that?”

    “Do what?” Jonathan replied, completely nonplussed at her irrationality.

    “How can you just turn it on like that—one minute we’re like strangers and the next you’re aching to get into my pants. I don’t understand!”

    “What are you talking about?” asked Jonathan, his voice rising.

    “This.” She gestured vaguely at him, at the hotel room around them. “Act like everything is fine. Go to work, get home. Kiss me like nothing is wrong, only there is something wrong!”

    “What? What’s wrong?” Jonathan asked as his voice rose. The passion heat was leaving his body, draining out his chest as a cold set in. “Where is this conversation even coming from? We’re fine—why are you still crying?”

    “Everything isn’t fine,” said Esther. She pulled away from him. She turned and sat on the bed, and he could see that her face had grown distraught. Her lip trembled as she spoke. “It isn’t fine. You think it is, but it isn’t! I—I can’t feel anything anymore. We just move around each other, we don’t talk anymore. And when we do, we argue or lie!

    “And you—the business of it all. I loved that about you when we were first together. You were so smart, so dedicated. I knew that you were going to be a successful man, I knew that you would always be able to take care of me. But this past year…I don’t think that I can take it anymore! All you think about is business, all you ever want to talk about is business. You’re always thinking about moving up, going forward. Nothing is ever about here, now. Me.”

    “What about now?” he asked defensively. “I was trying to be with you now.”

    “It’s not the same,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “When’s the last time we had a conversation? When you wanted to start looking at changing jobs, you never once asked me what I thought about moving to New York. Or anywhere else, for that matter. I—I’m starting to feel like a thing to you. Like just your wife. Like I don’t matter. Like you don’t care about me.”

    He gaped at Esther as she continued.

    “There’s a man that walks by our house every day,” she whispered. “He comes with his children, on the way home from school. He’s a stay-at-home dad. His daughter asked for one of the purple anemones one day when I was watering the flowerbed, so I gave her one. We started to chat. We talked for over an hour about anything—everything. My plans for the day, his family, what my favorite flower was. The next day I saw him pass with his kids, and I went out to talk to them. He stayed again, let his kids play in our yard. I gave each of them an anemone to put behind their ears and we talked.

    “I started to water the anemones every day at the same time just so that I could talk to someone. He told me all about their family, and I told him about how badly I wanted children. And when I told him that you didn’t want any, he told me that I needed to find someone that shared my priorities. He told me that I needed to find someone that I could be completely happy with. That living like I am is no way to live at all. I need to be happy, Jonathan.”

    He sat on the bed next to her. There were no words for him to say, nothing that he could express. He put an arm around her. It was a different touch this time; softer. She buried her head in his chest as she continued to cry. Tears slipped from his eyes, falling quickly down his cheeks until they dripped of his chin, anointing her head with their moisture.

    They sat in the dark for several hours as he held her, grasping her body tightly as if afraid that he might lose it at any moment.