Joy

Tao and I started a small art business. I worry that Tao will yearn for fame and riches again and demand we travel to some major city to make something of ourselves. I don't want that. I have everything I ever wanted right here. My fears are usually abated when Sam asks her daddy to help her paint or do school work. Sometimes he'll be so into his painting that's he'll send her to me, but usually he drops everything for her, and for me too. Instead of pulling him away from painting, I join him. Frequently Tao draws me, but those paintings end up so graphic that we show them to no one. I am flattered that he enjoys painting me that way. It reminds me of Z.G. painting my birth mother. We keep them all in a safe place so they won't be stumbled upon or stolen. We also paint our memories from the village. We used to only paint the good memories. A few months ago, I caught Tao painting some of the horrible ones.

"Why do you want to paint that?" I ask.

"To document what the government is trying to pretend doesn't exist," he says. He sounds so much like Z.G. now. He has come far from a country bumpkin shouting with the masses and praising Mao. I know he may never win an award or get famous, (and a part of me selfishly hopes he never does) but I couldn't possibly be more proud of him. I put a hand on his shoulder and whisper that fact into his ear. He decides the painting can wait.

"But the brushes will get dry and hard –"

"There is something else that is hard that needs to be attended to first," he says playfully. I giggle and squeal. Afterwards we lay in bed, wrapped in each other and the sweaty sheets.

"Did you really mean that?" he asks me.

"Um…you mean what we just did…?" I ask, confused.

"No, I mean…" he blushes. "That you couldn't possibly be more proud of me. Did you mean that?"

"Of course," I say. "When I say I forgive you for almost killing our daughter and that I love you, you respond with 'It's about time'. But when I tell you I'm proud of you, then you get all insecure on me?" I smile to ease the intensity of my words, but I know it's a good point. He gives me an awkward grin and confesses something I know he's thought about for a long time.

"I've always worried that I haven't been a good enough father to Sam. I just don't always know what to do. I feel like I need to be the perfect father to make up for everything that happened before we left China."

It's been years and he still hates himself for it. If I have been holding on to any lingering feelings of anger, they are vanished now. Love has eradicated those feelings. It saddens me that he still feels this remorse, but I know there is nothing I can do but continue to be his wife and companion.

"I've been painting the bad memories to show people what happened, but I've also been doing it as a kind of therapy, I think. I still can't paint what almost happened to Sam," he says. I nod. "Not that I would ever show it to anyone but you. I wouldn't even keep it hidden. I'd probably burn it after I finished it, but I just can't do it."

"I'll help you with it," I say. He looks me in the eyes.

"Really?"

I nod.

"Thank you."

It seems like the oddest request, to help my husband paint his worst nightmare, which also happens to be mine, but it is the right thing to do.

"And you can stop worrying about being the perfect father. You may make mistakes, but we all do. You are perfect in Sam's eyes. She'll learn that we make mistakes, but that's not for a long time. Just keep loving her. She's a happy girl. I'm a happy girl too," I say.

"I guess this means I have to stop calling her Au Ji," he jokes.

"To say the least!" I say, play slapping his shoulder. "You don't still call her that!"

"What? Of course not!"

"Well," I say, seeing that this is a good moment and I have news to make this moment perfect. "You can still call her that…for a little while anyways…" I say, letting him figure out what I mean.

"What? Why?" he asks. I smile.

"Perhaps we can call her what my Grandfather used to call me…Pan-di…" My smile expands as I watch his confusion turn to excitement.

"You're pregnant!" His excitement has me so energized I can only laugh and nod my head. He grabs me in a tight embrace.

"You're going to be a great father. Again," I say. I see tears trickle down his face and feel him tremble in my arms. He kisses me over and over again, his tears smearing with my own. I have experienced some of the most painful hardships I will ever endure with Tao. I have experienced disgust and an all-encompassing determination to escape him, but I have also learned forgiveness and love from this same man. And now I know joy. True joy.

The End

A/N: Pan-di = Hope-for-a-Brother