Curiosity Killed The Cat
Kady sloshed through the muddy field in her barn boots and paused, looking out over the rooting animals to the hilly landscape and the silver clouds beyond. Part of her hoped that she didn't get any response from the stack of resumes she had just sent out. Working in an office just wasn't going to compare with farm work. Even farm work with smelly pigs.
Absently she poked a stick at two of the younger hogs, who were squabbling over the same banana peel. "C'mon, settle down," she said equitably.
The roar of a truck caught her attention, and she looked over at the rundown little farmhouse where the remainder of her ten brothers and sisters lived with her parents. A white mail truck was cautiously backing up their winding gravel driveway.
Curious, she dumped the rest of the compost onto the grunting pigs, grabbed the bucket and the hose, and walked back towards the house, coiling up the hose as she went. Between the wet and the mud, the hose was dirty, which meant that by the time she reached the house, her hands and overalls were muddy as well. She deposited the coil of hose in its place by the cellar steps, stacked the compost bucket with the other empty plastic ones by the porch door, and walked to the truck, fully aware that she was a mess.
Wiping her hands on the wet grass helped a little. "Sorry," she said to the driver as she took the stack of mail and bulky package. Walking back to the house, she glanced at the address on the box. It was from Roman. Kady rolled her eyes and went inside to wash up.
Inside, the farmhouse was the usual jumble of large-family detritus and farming implements. The fragrant smell of stir-fried pork with fish sauce came from the stove, where her mother, a short Vietnamese woman in a long blue apron, was cooking dinner. Kady set the package on the kitchen table, and began to open it. What had Roman sent now?
She groaned as she pulled off the last round of bubble wrap from the bulky object inside. It was an Oriental statue, super-gilded and beflowered with purple magnolias – the Chinese good-luck cat with a raised paw.
"Pretty," her mom said. "Chinese."
Kady sighed. "Oriental." Roman was like most Americans, lobbing together Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Filipino, and Vietnamese cultures into one thing: Oriental culture. She'd tried to explain to him that Vietnamese culture was very different from Japanese and Chinese culture but he couldn't seem to grasp the distinction. Nor did he get that she preferred plain American to Chinese kitsch.
She read the card he had scribbled. Miss you. Hope you can come and visit soon. She didn't know how to answer that. If she found a job, she couldn't visit. But until she found a job, spending money on pleasure trips didn't seem wise.
"What does the card say?"
"He wants me to come and visit him."
"You should." Her mother tested the pork.
"But I'm still job hunting."
"If you find a job, you won't be able to go. So go now."
"Mom!" Kady exclaimed. "You're so – impractical sometimes. Like Roman."
Her mom chuckled. "Aren't you and Roman dating?"
"Yes. Sort of," Kady set the cat on the table and raised an eyebrow at it. What exactly am I supposed to do with this thing?
"You keep saying that," her mom wagged a bamboo spoon at her. "Sort of dating never got anyone anywhere. Either choose or not choose. Date, or don't date."
Kady laughed. "You sound like Yoda."
The problem was, she liked Roman. A lot. And that was illogical. He was a suburban guy. Wouldn't – couldn't farm, didn't have a job, couldn't do anything practical, and expert in nothing except football, video games, martial arts and swordfighting.
She had to confess it was fun to be with Roman. They connected on a very basic level. But was that really enough?
"What is wrong?" her mother prodded.
Kady exhaled. "When it comes to Roman, I just have too many questions about whether or not he's right for me."
"That is fine!" her mother said with a shrug. "Dating is the time for asking questions! Too many people only start to ask questions after the wedding is over!"
Kady pushed back her hair. "So what do you do if you still have questions after the wedding is over?"
"Ignore them," her mother said tranquilly. "After you have leapt off the cliff, it is too late to wonder how high the mountain was."
"That sounds healthy," muttered Kady under her breath but her mother either didn't hear her or pretended not to hear. Kady accepted the bowl of pho soup from her mother, drank it and pondered, giving occasional glances at the smiling ceramic cat. Her mother went outside to yell at Kady's brothers, who were supposed to be weeding the strawberry crop.
What she had to do, Kady resolved, one of these days, was sit down with Roman and have a serious talk about their relationship. What were they going to do now, practically speaking? I'm graduated, I'm going to get a job, and you're going to do what? Play at college for another year, and then do what? While I wait for you? It might be better for them both just to work, study, and go on with life. Neither of their families were wealthy: it would be more practical to focus on making a living. And if after two years, he was ready to get married, and she wasn't dating anyone else – then maybe…
The problem was, she really did like Roman.
Emitting a cry of frustration, she finished the soup, snatched up the cat, and stalked to her room.
She had shared the large bedroom with four sisters, but now they had all moved out. Only Felicity was still single, and she was living in New York and working as a nurse: Anna, Marzia and Philomena were married. But the remnants of their tastes and souvenirs of their pasts were still scattered about on the walls: posters, photos, scrapbooks, stuffed animals. Polish flags, Vietnamese art, collages from protests and slogan signs. Though the variations on themes were unique, the décor was the typical mishmash of teenage life. Kady didn't have the heart to take everything down and start over, even though no one else slept in the double bed with her any longer, and the daybed really was just a couch these days.
Maybe I'll be leaving this room soon too.
The thought depressed her, even though her job search was not going well. It seemed the market was flooded with mental health majors: what had seemed like a shoe-in was proving to be scarce. No one was even offering internships. Even with years of volunteer experience at various counseling centers under her belt, no one seemed able to hire her. She'd probably have to move to New York to find any kind of entry-level job. She hated the city.
Given that her life was in such flux, her instinct was to take a step back from her relationship until she figured out where she could find a job, and what to do with her life. It might be easier on Roman too: she knew he still didn't have a job. But how could she tell this to Roman?
Out of habit, she started cleaning her room, the best way to improve her mood. After straightening up her dresser and folding her clothes, she cast about for a space to stash the oversized cat statue. After a few minutes searching, she moved a stack of hats – random straw farm hats and soft felt hats – off the green dresser and slid the cat on its surface. Now the hats didn't fit. She was about to toss them on the floor to deal with later, when something made her put the stack on the cat's head. They fitted perfectly: the cat's head was just the size of the bottom hat. And her baseball cap could dangle from the cat's upraised paw. It looked almost as though she and some decorating maven had gone out to purchase a unique hat stand and come back with the cat. A perfect fit.
Her cell phone rang with a familiar tune: the theme from Karate Kid. Roman was calling.
Was this the time for her to break it off with him?
She stared at the singing phone and glanced back half-heartedly at the smiling cat. Roman would ask her about the job search, she would confess her failure and inadequacy, and he would reassure her. He would brainstorm for new strategies, new ways to get a job. No, she didn't have the heart to break up with a guy friend who was supporting her during this uncertain time. But would it be any kinder to do it later?
Growling again, she picked up the phone and answered. She'd thank him for the statue, maybe agree to come down and visit for a weekend. No time like the present. Pun resented.
So it was one week later, Kady was on the bus to DC. She was taking the bus because her brothers Ken and Toby needed her old truck for their job, and the other spare car had a bad fuel pump and had stopped shifting. Roman had agreed to split the bus ticket with her, since it saved him the trouble of driving to pick her up. Even though she hated to leave the farm work and the job hunt, she probably did need a break. She fell asleep as soon as she got on the bus, and slept until they had nearly reached the beltway.
When she opened her eyes, she stared out the window at the passing scenery in some incredulity. Obviously this had all once been farmland. But now it had become a monotonous pattern of strip mall – housing block – strip mall – housing block. Sometimes the developers had left the trees in. Other times they seemed to have sheared them all down. Either way, a completely artificial carpet of civilization had been dropped over what was once arable land: she could even spot an occasional barn marooned between lots. She felt nauseous. Or maybe that was just the fumes from the hundred thousand shiny compact cars that darted everywhere like oversized bugs.
By the time they reached the bus stop in Northern Virginia, she had counted six Home Depots and ten Bed, Bath and Beyonds, and countless supermarkets and clothing stores. So this was where Roman lived. She was ready to leave.
But there in the massive bus station was Roman, waiting for her as she stumped off the bus with her luggage. As usual, he was dressed in black – black t-shirt and trench coat, jeans, and boots. Black sunglasses, too. He was smiling at her, and holding a huge bunch of long-stemmed red roses.
She sighed: even jobless and short of cash, Roman could be so generous. And so impulsive. Too impulsive. She kissed him, took the roses, and only then noticed that he was still grinning.
"What?" she asked suspiciously.
He took her arms and pulled her close.
"We're rich."
"Yes, in God, family, and one another. But that doesn't…"
"No, my family. Is rich."
She stared at him.
"We've come into money. C'mon. I'll tell you how it happened."
Incredulously, she glanced down at the roses.
Roman said significantly, "They were not on sale."
Once she had gotten into the car, she told her about the money. How he had gotten the check. How he'd depositing it, on a lark. How it had actually cleared.
"So now?" She asked still puzzled over the whole thing.
"We have over one million dollars in the bank. And we're still not sure how it happened."
Kady frowned. "But if it's a check – you must know who sent it."
"The Unicorn Foundation. And here's something weird: it closed its doors two days after our transaction went through. It's listed as a place that holds contests, but none of us remember entering any sweepstakes. The only thing Mom can think of is that it might have been one of those things where you're automatically entered into a drawing when you sign up for a service."
Kady was still trying to take this in, and a feeling was growing inside her. "I don't like this," she murmured. "You're right: it's weird. You should…"
Roman shot her a look. "I know what you're thinking, Kat. I'd like to do some research, find out more, but the odd thing is, Dad doesn't want me to. Plus he doesn't want us to tell anyone about the money until he can figure out where it came from. I had to promise him up and down that you were one of those inscrutable Asian types who would never breathe a word to anyone."
Asian types. Kady sighed again. "And of course, your Dad agreed."
"You know I've told you how much he loves anything from Asia. I know he'll love you, too."
She shifted a bit nervously, having remembered again that she was meeting Roman's family for the first time. A significant relationship moment. A sign that things were 'serious'. Again, she felt she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. "I hope I'm going to be more than just your trophy Asian girlfriend."
"Oh, absolutely, you are." Roman said with a cheeky grin. "But I've always liked trophies. They tell me that I've won big." He pulled to a stop at a red light, leaned over, and kissed her.
Why did his corny romance always give her goose bumps? "Nowadays everyone gets trophies, even if they didn't do a thing." She murmured when they broke off the kiss.
"The analogy holds," he said with a small smile. "I didn't do a thing to deserve you, did I?"
Groaning, she pulled away from him. "The light's green."
He obligingly turned his attention to driving but kept talking. "Obviously, Dad doesn't want us to spend the money. Unfortunately my brothers were with me when I went to deposit the check, and we've had to threaten them with Chinese water torture to keep them from talking. But that hasn't stopped them from begging us to upgrade our video game systems, get new computers, cool cars…"
"Probably good not to rush into anything." She said, glancing out the window.
"Exactly. Though I can't help looking at the new Nissan Civics." He heaved a sigh. "Mom's been trying to persuade him to use some of the money, but he doesn't want us to touch a cent."
"What is he waiting for?"
"Federal agents to show up on our doorstep? The IRS? Who knows? Anyhow," he glanced over at Kady. "I'm so glad you're here. You couldn't have picked a better time to visit. It's very interesting at home just now."
I'm glad that a lot of you liked the first chapter :) Here's the next installment, enjoy!
As always, if you have the time, please read and review.