CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

A little over a month later, Eilene is sitting on the sofa in my hotel suite while I try to find space in my luggage for all the new clothes Alyssa and Mimi have pressed upon me. Not that I fought too hard against it. After all, Mimi did totally design an entire line of clothing catering to my tastes. It would be downright ungrateful to refuse the clothes.

I tried to offer payment (although I couldn’t have afforded even a fraction of the cost), but Mimi refused, and Alyssa ended up footing the bill. And she bought me a whole bunch of accessories.

“I can’t let my mei mei leave China without a new wardrobe!” Alyssa insisted.

I have to admit that I love the new clothes, like the black cigarette pants and white silk blouse I’m currently wearing.

Pressing down hard on my rolling suitcase, I finally manage to get it zipped. “Thanks for coming to say goodbye before I leave tomorrow,” I tell Eilene. We’d put the film in the can a few days ago, but I can hardly believe it’s actually time to leave China. Mom had stayed to make sure Dad got his pardon, and then when Dad did get his pardon, he came to spend a week with us in China. My parents went back to the United States nearly a month ago. Now it’s my turn to go home.

“Actually, I’m not here just to say goodbye,” Eilene says.

I glance up from my packing. “You’re not?”

“I’m so thrilled with your work on Butterfly. Because of you, the film will be a success.” As I bask in the warm glow of her praise, Eilene says, “So, the reason I came by is to discuss a project I have lined up. I have you in mind for a role.”

“Seriously? That would be so awesome!”

“And that’s just the beginning.” A mischievous grin lights up her face. “I couldn’t help but talk you up to a well-known director friend of mine, and he wants to bring you in to audition for another part.”

“Which one?” I demand breathlessly. Working with Eilene again is a no-brainer, but I don’t know about another director. And will it be a role I can live with? “Sorry, Eilene! I didn’t even thank you for hooking me up for roles or for saying such nice things about my work on Butterfly!”

She waves my apology aside. “Don’t worry! This is an exciting time for you, Gemma.”

“It is. So many things are happening.” I hesitate and then say, “But I’m worried about the other role. What if it’s one I don’t want to do?”

“What if it’s another Butterfly, you mean?” she asks shrewdly.

It seems risky to be picky about roles so early in my career, and it’s not that I regret taking the Butterfly role and making it my own, but . . . “I’m not sure if I want to do that again anytime soon.”

Instead of trying to talk me out of my decision, Eilene says, “Good for you, Gemma.” I blink in surprise as she continues. “You have a brilliant career ahead of you, but it can be on your own terms. Do the audition and then decide whether you want the role or not.” Decisively, she says, “Let’s see what happens.”

I smile. “You know, that’s exactly what you said before. ‘Let’s see what happens.’ You said it right before we shot the first take of that scene in Butterfly. The one where Song in drag flirts with Ryan? The one we hijacked.”

“We saw what happened, didn’t we? It’s my favorite scene in the whole movie.”

“Mine too.” I’m tempted to make some kind of butterfly pun about metamorphosis and cocoons, but that’s a bit too cheesy, even for me. “It’s the scene where I finally figured out who I am.” I don’t mean my character, Sonia Li. I mean me, Gemma Huang.

Eilene nods. “That’s worth fighting for. So stick to your guns and . . .”

“Let’s see what happens?” I guess.

“Exactly.”

It feels scary. To trust that the journey to myself is worth every risk. But Eilene is right.

I’m worth fighting for.

The next morning, Eric takes me to the airport, and we’re both pretty somber as I check in my bags. I have to keep reminding myself that we’re only saying goodbye temporarily. I’ll see him in two months when he moves to LA for grad school at the start of winter quarter.

Still, we get to the security gate way too soon. The movie studio is paying for me to fly back first class, and there’s not even a line at the gate for the first-class passengers. I sigh and turn to Eric. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“For now,” he says firmly.

Standing on tiptoe, I pull Eric to me. “For now,” I agree. Our kiss is hard, tinged with desperation. It’s also, as always, toe-curling and hot. Dimly, I register the flashes of lights of camera phones and rising whispers. Not again.

But there’s something different this time. As the crowd calls, “Alyssa! Alyssa!” and people hold their phones in the air, desperate to get a picture of me, I can imagine something else.

One day, it will be my name the crowd is yelling.

I pull away from my lip-lock with Eric. “I guess that’s my cue to leave.”

He glances over at the multiplying crowd pressing closer. “You’d better get out of here before I’m tempted to whisk you away.” The look on his face is tender. “Like the first time.”

“You mean when you thought I was Alyssa and wanted to warn me to stay away from your little sister?”

“Well, when you put it like that, I guess I’m luckier than I thought to be your boyfriend in the end.” He takes both of my hands in his.

“We both got lucky.” I give him a final kiss that’s way too brief to satisfy the ache of missing him already. But even this fleeting kiss whips up the frenzy of camera flashes.

“You’d better go,” Eric says reluctantly, releasing my hands.

I nod and go through the security checkpoint. But with Eric’s kiss on my lips and dreams of my own name being shouted someday, I can’t help but smile.

After I go through security, I blow a last kiss to Eric. My fans think I’m blowing them a kiss and go nuts. My last glimpse of Eric is of him shrugging wryly and blowing a kiss back at me before dozens of people push in front of him and he’s lost to my sight.

It’s a lot quieter on this side of the security gate, and I’m able to text Glory and Camille in peace as I walk to my gate.

At the airport. Can’t wait to see you in LA!

Glory’s reply comes back first.

You’d better not be jet-lagged.

Before I can text a confused-face emoji, Camille’s text pops up.

Epic welcome-home party in the works!

Could my life get any better? My thumbs fly on my phone.

You two are the absolute best!

I don’t get a chance to read their response to my text because I’m being paged over the airport intercom. What’s going on? Then I realize that I’m being asked to go to a different gate, than the one where my plane is leaving from. This is getting stranger and stranger.

Confused, I follow the directions to the gate, where I’m met by an airport employee. “This way please, Ms. Huang, to our VIP airline lounge.” She gestures to a sliding glass door.

Wow. I knew that the movie studio upgraded my ticket to first class, but this is ridiculous. Still, who am I to refuse a cushy exclusive-lounge experience?

The sliding glass door opens at my approach, and the lounge is as posh as I expected, with black leather couches and little bottles of champagne and bowls of oranges on tables. And the lounge is occupied. By two of my favorite people on the planet. Who also happen to be related to me.

My cousin and my aunt. Jie Jie and Yi Ma. “Surprise!” Alyssa calls out from one of the leather couches, next to her mother. She raises a toast to me with a flute of champagne.

My whole body lights up with joy. “What are you doing here?”

“We go every year to Paris,” my aunt explains.

“For the couture shows,” Alyssa chimes in, “and we thought we’d take our flight at the same time you leave for LA so we could see you off in style!”

“You’ve already done that,” I say, smoothing my dress down. “Just look at all these clothes you gave me!” For my last day in China, I’m wearing another of Mimi’s designs—a yellow silk shift dress.

Alyssa and her mother both study me—my aunt with reserved satisfaction and Alyssa with smug pride. They are both gorgeously attired themselves. My aunt is wearing a tailored navy pantsuit with a silk water-colored scarf, and Alyssa is wearing a red lace midi dress.

“Oh, the clothes! That’s nothing,” Alyssa says airily. “You’re descended from Wu Zetian, remember? A descendant of an empress who once ruled China should have nice clothes.”

The clothes Alyssa gave me are leaps and bounds over the category of nice, but I don’t quibble with her. It feels too good to be spoiled by my cousin.

“Besides,” Alyssa says, “you’re an heiress. You should get to dress the part.”

“Your mother refuses to take the money that should be rightfully hers,” my aunt explains, “but she did agree to let you inherit her share. Your grandparents have changed their will to reflect this.”

“That’s not necessary,” I mumble.

“Entirely necessary,” my aunt says firmly.

I turn to my cousin. “Are you OK with this?”

“Of course!” she declares. “We want you to know you’re part of the family. We wouldn’t want you to forget us!”

“Never.” I sit across from them on another leather couch. “And not because of the clothes or the money. You’re my family. I couldn’t forget you.”

“You’d better not!” Alyssa says, scooting over to me and having my aunt take a picture of us. Then she retrieves her phone from my aunt and plunks down next to me again. Together, we look at the picture of the two of us—alike in more than our faces. Alike in our joy in each other.

Alyssa laughs. “Look! You in a yellow dress and me in a red one. We look like the two court ladies in those paintings Empress Wu commissioned.”

“Maybe they were cousins too.” Wouldn’t that be cool?

“We’re sisters, remember?” Alyssa corrects me with a smile. “Jiemei.”

“Jiemei”—the word that our two pendants form. “Yes, jiemei. Sisters.” My heart melts in gratitude for Alyssa. It makes me shudder to think of never coming to Beijing and never knowing her. Never knowing all my family.

“We’ll stay in touch.” My aunt’s face glows brightly. “Alyssa and I will be in Chicago next summer. Your mother has a surprise planned. Will you be there?”

“Absolutely!” I say. “What’s the surprise?”

“You’ll see,” she says, and no amount of cajoling from me or Alyssa gets anything more out of her.

My aunt reaches over and covers my hands with hers. “I’m so happy to find my sister again, but that’s not all. It’s finding you too. We love you so much, Gemma.”

“Don’t make me cry!” Alyssa warns. “I don’t want to smudge my makeup.” But it’s too late. Tears are already forming in her eyes.

Just like they’re forming, hot and thick, in my own eyes. “I love you both.”

“And I love you too, Gemma,” Alyssa says, giving up on the battle to save her makeup and sniffling into a silk handkerchief.

It’s the perfect way to leave China, seen off by my cousin and my aunt. But all too soon, it’s time to say goodbye and depart for my gate. Alyssa hugs me hard, crying so much that I fear her makeup is a lost cause. Yi Ma kisses me on both cheeks and whispers her hope of seeing me soon.

At last I board my plane and sink into the luxurious first-class seat. This time I’m not squished between two other passengers. I have the row to myself and can stretch out. Smiling, I think of my arrival three months ago, when I had been frantically emailing my parents to keep them from finding out that I was in Beijing and then unexpectedly envious of the Chinese grandfather who was returning home to his family in China.

The plane taxis down the runway, and as it rises into the air, I see the Beijing skyline glittering and bright in the slowly darkening sky.

When I first came here, I had no family to meet me in China, and I was lying to the only family I had. Now my family in China sent me off with love and promises to meet again. And my parents and I understand each other in a way I never thought possible.

Don’t get me wrong—designer clothes and money are nice, but their value for me is that they’re gifts from people who love me and whom I love. That is the real inheritance that Wu Zetian has left me.

My family.