“Is this normal?” I ask him.
“At first police say the letter will go away last summer,” Uncle Dai says slowly. “But then now many try to push car and then you suddenly missing and lots of angry people. We not worry at first because no big deal. Now we must fix problem, but we already have investor money and start building.”
“Aren’t you scared?” I demand, scanning Ruby and Auntie Yingfei for social cues. They seem as uncomfortable as I am, clutching their purses but not being overly emotional. They look like they are pretending to tolerate a foreign art movie, but in reality, they have no idea what’s going on. Is that how I look when I’m browsing museums? Half-constipated, half fake-frozen smiling?
“Weijun, do not worry,” Uncle Dai says. “I am CEO of family and company.”
“Aren’t you worried, though?” I persist.
“Scare is bad for productivity,” he says.
“Yes! But—”
“Weijun, enough question. Please stop talking and let me think.” Uncle Dai looks deeply disturbed.
Auntie Yingfei puts her arms around me and Ruby, and we huddle together in the car. I glance at Ruby, who is no longer pouting. She glances at me without her usual snarky eye-rolling, then looks away. Is this a relatively normal situation for her? Or is this unthinkable evacuation an actual emergency for her, too?
We don’t talk during the entire car ride.
I recognize the palatial structure of the Red Mandarin Hotel as soon as we near the entrance. My grandparents live here. But this time, we enter through the back with the security team at urgent, fast-forwarded speed.
Ruby and I are assigned to a suite on the thirty-seventh floor. We’ll be sharing a room. Uncle Dai thinks it’s better to split up, in case anyone follows him. Even Auntie Yingfei will be staying on a separate floor.
I thought that he’d most likely forget due to the stress and chaos of relocating hotels, but Uncle Dai makes us hand over our prepaid Visa cards. How can he even remember that Ruby got a B-minus in English at a time like this? For some reason, I can’t find mine, which was with the secret room key that my grandma gave me.
“You not lying?” Uncle Dai asks, looking shocked. “You lose Visa card??”
I hand him my purse and wallet to search, and even he and Auntie Yingfei agree that they can’t find it.
“At least I still have my passport, right?” I say. “That’s important, right?”
No one says anything.
“Can I see Grandma and Grandpa?” Ruby asks.
Uncle Dai looks at me nervously.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I know they live here. I know what happened between my dad and you in the past.”
He looks at me, incredulous.
“How?” he says, but then he changes his mind. “Forget it. Don’t tell me. Tiger is very sneaky animal!”
Uncle Dai then barks orders at the security guards to take us to see Grandma and Grandpa. He assigns one guard for Ruby and me, three to Auntie Yingfei, and six for himself. He even gets to keep Mr. Chen.
“Why is Iris coming with me?” Ruby whines.
Instead of sneering this time, she has resumed her typical eye-rolling. It almost makes me feel relieved.
“You go with cousin or stay in room,” Uncle Dai says. “Your mom and I go to work. We need to find way to stop problem.”
Escorted, we take the elevator down and rap on the door of my grandparents’ suite.
My grandma and grandpa are astonished to see us with our new bodyguard. They greet me before they hug a frowning, wounded-looking Ruby, and I fling my arms around both of them, relieved that everything will be okay.
They automatically start making us tea and feeding us cookies from tins—coconut, black sesame, almond, peanut—and red bean pastries. I grab a cookie with a crunchy walnut topping. They keep asking questions and turn to Ruby for translation. She points at herself, but my grandparents are asking about me. As if annoyed with the attention that I’m receiving, she shrugs casually and then says something cutting in Chinese. All I understand is my own name, and I’m so pissed at myself for not trying harder to learn my grandparents’ language. I have so much I want to say to them without a translator.
To my horror, Ruby pulls out her phone and shows them my Instagram photos. Me and Frank, half-nude, in a hot spring. Selfies of my arms thrown around his neck. More photos of me kissing him. I didn’t think about how this might look to my parents or grandparents.
Our grandparents look at me, stunned and uncomfortable.
My photos make them so upset that they have to leave the room, where they both start shouting.
I don’t know how to speak to them.
“Why did you show them?” I ask. “What did you say to them, Ruby?”
She shrugs and turns away.
In anger, I chuck a cookie at the back of her head. I don’t mean to throw a cookie, but I’m so angry and fed up with my cousin’s bitchy behavior. Usually, I would miss my target, but for some reason, my aim is exceptional today and the cookie lands on her head and snaps in half. I attribute it to rage, betrayal, and watching the New York Yankees with my dad.
She gasps. And whirls around. The cookie bounces off her shoulder.
We stare at each other.
“You are the most annoying and spoiled person on the planet,” Ruby exclaims, throwing up her hands in aggravation. “First, you take over my life! My parents want to spend time with you instead of me. Then you torture me with all your nonstop talking. Why couldn’t you just stay in America? You have gotten all these amazing opportunities in the United States and you just throw them all away because you don’t care about anything or anyone.”
“What are you talking about?” I say. “You’re the one who is living like a Kardashian.”
“What are you talking about?” Ruby asks, massaging her head. “Stop making up nonsense English words.”
In frustration, she throws a handful of cookies at me. Luckily, she misses and they hit the wall.
“You really are a CRA! Crazy Rich Asian,” I say.
As soon as it comes out of my mouth, I regret it. It’s too much. I’m not a mean girl like Samira, who judges people on their behavior and IQ.
Ruby lets out a sharp, bitter laugh.
“I didn’t grow up like this. While my dad was working on his company and attending school, my mom and I lived in a tiny run-down village. We didn’t even have electricity or heat or running water. We practically lived in a hut with nothing to eat. My dad showed me your photos; you grew up in a nice house with a piano and tennis lessons. But you don’t care about anything or anyone. Worst of all, people like you. They don’t see that you’re a self-absorbed brat.”
Shocked, I stare at her. I had no idea that Ruby grew up in such extreme poverty. How could I have known? She seemed to be such a stuck-up princess with an unlimited spending allowance. She seemed to be so smug and comfortable with her life. Is that why she has been so mean to me?
A hurt silence escalates between us.
Ruby and I are connected by the same blood feud and long history. We love the same people, and I think we are actually on the same side of the family tree. How can we reconcile our differences?
“We’re not that opposite,” I say. “We both really care about family, and we want our parents to be happy with our decisions.”