Page 26 of A Banh Mi for Two
“It’s this giant market in Sài Gòn,” I say. “It’s one of our most iconic landmarks, and so the place is always brimming with tourists. Having a stall there is prime real estate because most foreigners don’t know how to haggle.”
“I can’t believe that I have a lead,” she says, her eyes still pinned to the photograph and her thumb hovering over the silhouette of her mom. “I have to go to Ch? B?n Thành, then.”
“And do what?”
She sighs. “I haven’t thought that far yet. Maybe ask everyone at Ch? B?n Thành once I’m there?”
I snort. “Vivi, do you know how many people go in and out of that market every day? That’s impossible.”
Her face falls. “Oh.”
“But,” I start again. “They’re wearing áo dàis in this photograph. I think I know the cut and patterns of those áo dàis, and if I’m right, I might know someone who can help us point to where your family might be.”
She gasps, clutching my hands. Heat rises to my cheeks from the skin-to-skin contact. “Us? You would help me? You’d come with? Because, if you say yes, you cannot back out.”
Vivi’s looking at me as if I’m made of magic, like I have solved the mysteries of life. It feels nice, to bask in that awe; her eyes pinning me and my breath too shy to leave my mouth. But what I know isn’t magic, just the life of a girl living in the heart of Sài Gòn.
“Well.” I inhale. “How about this, since you’re helping me with the submission contest, I’ll help you track down the women in the photos. Everyone in Sài Gòn knows someone. We can definitely ask around.”
Her face brightens. “Really? You’d do that?”
“Yeah. Why not?” There are many, many reasons why I shouldn’t be instigating a wild goose chase around Sài Gòn with a girl I just met, but I owe her something, or at least that’s what I tell myself. Plus, I find myself gravitating toward her smile, and the blossoming urge to have her look at me like that again.
“What’s that thing Americans do with their littlest finger?” I say, holding out my pinkie. “Let’s make a deal?”
She laughs and loops her pinkie around mine. I can feel the warmth creeping up my spine.
“Deal,” she says, and my heart leaps. “I still can’t believe you put all the pieces together from just a building in the background and some áo dàis.”
She holds the photographs closer to her chest, almost as if she’s afraid they’ll disappear. “It’s not impossible after all—finding my family in such a big city. I thought it was so silly of me to hope that I’d run into them on the streets. That they’d recognize me, even though we’ve never met.”
Even though Vivi’s a girl from across the world and grew up in a city so different from Sài Gòn, she still ended up here, in my city, chasing after the phantoms of family and searching for answers. I know that feeling all too well.
Maybe we’re more alike than I think.
“We’ll go to Ch? B?n Thành together. We’ll find them,” I say, the promise rolling off my tongue—since when do I make promises? “Somehow or someway, I’m sure you’ll meet them.”
She smiles, and her dimples make my heart jump. “And somehow or someway, we’ll win the contest, too. Two miracles can happen at once.”
“It’s getting late. I’ll take you home.”
She hesitates. “Take me home?”
I feel the corner of my left lip shaping into a smirk. “Yes. On my motorbike.”
She drops her jaw, shocked.
“Is there… something wrong with that?”
“No!” she blurts out. “Just… I feel like I’m inconveniencing you. You don’t have to take me home—I’ll figure it out. The internet is free and ever generous.”
“Can you please let me take you home before I feel bad about leaving a tourist stranded in the middle of the city?” I know Vivi wouldn’t be stranded. Sài Gòn has tons of rideshare apps for tourists and locals alike, but still, a part of me doesn’t want to leave her just yet.
She nods, biting her bottom lip. “Thanks.”
I help Vivi hop onto my motorbike, our fingers brushing against each other. She fidgets behind me, her books in between us.
“Hold on to me.”
