At the express lane a gawky, pink-faced boy checked him out and said, "Twenty-three forty-seven." The screen of the register showed the same amount.
Nan was puzzled but handed him the money anyway. As the cashier was making change, Nan said, "Zer marked price is nineteen ninety-nine. Why such a big difference?"
"Six percent sales tax, sir." The boy grinned while his pale blue eyes batted.
"Still, it shouldn't be so mahch."
The boy gave thought to that, then pointed at a counter, saying, "The computer must've made a mistake. Go to Customer Service. They'll help you. I'm sorry about this, sir." He handed Nan the change and the receipt.
At the counter a fortyish woman with amber hair looked at the receipt and the watch. Without a word she punched away at a keyboard. "I'm going to give the money back to you, all right?" she said to Nan.
"Fine."
She came over and handed him $23.47, together with the wrist-watch. Perplexed, Nan said, "I want zer watch." "You can have it."
"But you gave me all zer money back."
The woman, wearing a nametag with SARAH printed on it, beamed and narrowed her eyes. "The store has a new policy-if the computer overcharges you, we give you the purchase for free. We apologize for the mistake, sir."
"Wow, sank you!"
Nan put on the watch and stepped out of the supermarket, impressed by the store's effort to inspire the customers' trust. His mood was lifting, and he was amazed that he was actually so easy to please. Just a free little timepiece could cheer him up. As he was about to cross Lakeside Drive, he caught sight of a pack of Virginia Slims lying in the roadside grass, the cellophane wrap dotted with rainwater and a cigarette sticking out of the top of the case. He picked it up. He didn't smoke, but the pack was hardly used and its contents still dry, so he put it into his pocket. With a lightened heart he headed home.
10
SLUMPED at the kitchen table, Pingping was smoking while Nan was away. Usually she wouldn't touch cigarettes, but when distressed, she'd indulge in one. She always kept a pack around, secreted somewhere Nan couldn't find. If only she didn't love him so hopelessly. How often she was torn between love and bitterness; and she even tried to hate him, but never could she summon up any real hatred. Despite her misery and feeling of being misused, every night before going to sleep she'd repeat to herself, "I love my husband only," as though this thought were her only way out of the labyrinth of love in which both she and Nan were trapped. It was clear by now that she could never go back to China and live as a self-sufficient person again, yet she wouldn't regret having settled down in Georgia and was willing to accept the prospect that she and Nan would have to remain together for a long time, probably for the rest of their lives. Still, why couldn't Nan outgrow his feelings for his first love, for that heartless woman? Why would he continue letting her suck all the energy and lifeblood out of him? Stupid ass. He'll get feebler and feebler if he doesn't quit pining away for her. Why can't he see that her life belongs elsewhere and has nothing to do with his here? He's just a miserable man, just an automatic generator of suffering and pain.
Unlike him, Pingping had never missed her ex-boyfriend, compared with whom Nan was a better man; Nan hadn't hesitated to marry her and wouldn't shirk his responsibilities as a husband and father. If only he were more responsive to her love and devotion. If only there were a way to soften his hardened heart.
The kitchen door opened. At the sight of Nan, Pingping averted her eyes and took a short drag on her cigarette. He said harshly, "You're not supposed to smoke in this house." The instant he let out those words, he changed his tone. "This isn't our home." He took out the Virginia Slims and inserted something into the case.
She blew out a puff of smoke. "I don't care." Despite saying that, she stubbed out her cigarette in a saucer serving as an ashtray.
"Then I have another pack for you." He smiled and handed her the opened Virginia Slims. "It has two thousand lucky pennies in it too."
"You bought this for me?" She looked puzzled, her eyes wider. She shook the case. "My, twenty dollars!"
"I told you, didn't I?"
" Where did you get this? You smoke too?"
"No. I found it on the street."
" Who lost it, do you know?"
"No idea."
He also showed her the brand-new watch on his wrist. She was amazed he had gotten it free. Hurriedly she made oatmeal for both of them. After breakfast, together they walked to work as if their squabble had never happened. Nan was amazed that just a free wristwatch had actually averted the crisis between them. He felt rather trivial as he remembered he had never been like this before. He had despised money back in China and never cared to save any, and before he met Pingping, he had always spent every penny of his salary each month. On the other hand, he felt that a good life should be uneventful, having few dramatic moments; instead, it should be filled with small delights, each of which should be appreciated and enjoyed like a gift. Pingping and he had too few such delights in their life, so a tiny windfall, a free watch, could bowl them over and switch their emotions to another gear. He wondered whether this piece of luck had come his way at the critical moment purely by accident. Life was truly mysterious. If he were a Christian, he'd have believed this might be a gift from God, but he didn't belong to any church and so he didn't allow his thoughts to stretch heavenward.
11
AT BEAVER HILL PLAZA a jewelry store had opened recently. It was five doors down from the Gold Wok to the east. Its owner was Janet Mitchell, a woman in her late thirties, with rusty hair and sloping shoulders. She had come from New Jersey to Atlanta the previous year with her husband, who worked for GE. Despite her trim figure, Janet walked with a lurch, the result of a traffic accident three years before. The damages she had collected enabled her to start her own business, whose clientele consisted mostly of young women living in Gwinnett County. She hired a salesgirl to work at the counter of her store while she herself made earrings and necklaces in the back room, which had a glass cutaway. Two or three times a week she would come to the Gold Wok for lunch and was particularly fond of the noodles and Ma Po Tofu offered there. Janet had caught the Wus' attention from the very beginning, because she wouldn't use a fork and would pick up a sliver of meat or a piece of stir-fried vegetable with her fingers if her chopsticks couldn't do the job. She and Ping-ping liked each other, and whenever she was there, the two of them would chat and giggle. Janet was amazed that Pingping, having learned English mainly by osmosis, could read local newspapers.
Sometimes when it wasn't busy at the restaurant, Pingping would go to Janet's store to see how she made jewelry. Besides showing her the craft, Janet also told her where to buy the beads, shells, stones, pearls. She even let Pingping assemble a necklace, just for fun; the piece turned out as elegant as those for sale. Janet was greatly impressed. Whenever they were together they'd talk about all kinds of things. Janet asked Pingping many questions. Why did Chinese children do so well in school? How come there weren't many fat Chinese? What did she think of the one-child policy in China? Why did some families abandon girl babies there? Did the Chinese really respect old people? Must Pingping take care of her parents even if she was far away from home?