Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford Read Free Book Online

something new is bothering you?’ Marty asked.
    ‘The tea?’
    ‘No, that’s just you thinking you’re some kind of sommelier of dried leaves in a bag. You’ve been acting different lately. Something I should know about, Pops?’
    Henry unwrapped his cheap wooden chopsticks, rolling them together to rub off any splinters. ‘My son is graduating, soma coma lode—’
    ‘ Summa cum laude ,’ Marty corrected.
    ‘That’s what I said. My son is graduating with highest honor .’ Henry popped a steaming hot shrimp shui mai dumpling into his mouth, chewing as he spoke. ‘What could be wrong?’
    ‘Well, Mom’s passed, for starters. And now you’re pretty much retired. From your job. From taking care of her. I’m just worried about you. What are you doing to pass the time these days?’
    Henry offered a pork bau to his son, who took it with his chopsticks and peeled the wax paper off the bottom before taking a large bite. ‘I just went back down to Bud’s. I picked up a little something. I’m getting out,’ Henry said. To punctuate his statement, he held up the bag from the record store. See, conclusive evidence that I’m doing just fine.
    Henry watched his son unwrap a lotus leaf and eat theglutinous sticky rice inside. He could tell by the concern in his son’s voice that Marty was unconvinced. ‘I’m heading over to the Panama Hotel. I thought I’d ask if they’d let me look around. They found a lot of old things in the basement. Things from the war years .’
    Marty finished chewing. ‘Looking for some long-lost jazz record, perhaps?’
    Henry ducked the question, not wanting to lie to his son, who knew he’d been interested in old jazz recordings from a very young age. But that was about all Marty knew of his father’s childhood, though he did know that his father had had a hard time of it as a child. Why? He never asked, it somehow seemed sacred, and Henry rarely shared. In return, his son probably thought he was quite boring. A man who had cared for every detail of his wife’s last years but had no surprises in him. Mr Reliable. Without a bone of rebellion or spontaneity. ‘I’m looking for something ,’ Henry said.
    Marty set his chopsticks on the edge of his plate, looking at his father. ‘Something I should know about? Who knows, Pops, maybe I can help.’
    Henry took a bite out of an egg custard tart, set it down, and pushed his plate away. ‘If I find something worth sharing, I’ll let you know.’ Who knows, I might even surprise you. Wait and see. Wait, and see.
    Marty seemed unconvinced.
    ‘Something bothering you ? You’re the one who looks like he has something on his mind – aside from studying and grades.’ Henry thought his son was about to say something, then Marty clammed up. Timing seemed to be everything in Henry’s family. There had always seemed to be a right timeand a wrong time for discussion between Henry and his own father. Maybe his son felt the same.
    ‘He’ll deal with it in his own way, and in his own time,’ Ethel had said, shortly after she learnt she had cancer. ‘He’s your son, but he’s not a product of your childhood, it doesn’t have to be the same.’
    Ethel had taken Henry out on Green Lake, on a boat, beneath a sunny August sky, to tell him the bad news. ‘Oh, I’m not leaving anytime soon,’ she’d said. ‘But if anything, when I go, I hope my passing brings the two of you together.’
    She had never stopped mothering her son, and Henry for that matter. Until the treatments began, then everything got turned around. And seemed to stay that way.
    Now father and son waited in silence, ignoring the carts of dim sum that rolled by. The awkward moment was interrupted by the crash of plates somewhere in the kitchen, punctuated by men swearing at each other in Chinese and English. There was much to say and ask, but neither Henry nor Marty inched closer to the subject. They just waited for their server, who would soon be bringing more tea and