Page 37 of A Banh Mi for Two
At my comment, Vivi ducks her head under the curtain again, mumbling something between the lines of “thank you” and “oh my God.” She emerges again minutes later, flustered and absolutely over what just happened.
“So, what did you girls need?” Cô Ngân asks, completely oblivious to why Vivi and I are sitting with a gap between us. My cheeks are still hot, and as I peek at her, I can see her pink ears, too.
Vivi’s fingers tremble slightly as she places the photograph of her mom and her family standing in front of Ch? B?n Thành on the bamboo mat. But unlike earlier, she seems more at ease now. More confident. “Lan told me you might know who these people are.”
Cô Ngân studies the photo. “Oh yes! I remember them. This girl”—she points to Vivi’s mom—“her name’s Hoa, isn’t it?”
Vivi gasps. “Yes! So you know who they are.”
“That’s Hoa, her sister, and her mom. I used to see them every day. Until Hoa up and went to America.” Cô Ngân smiles sadly. “At least that’s what the neighborhood gossips say, little Hoa went to the States all by herself.”
Vivi avoids Cô Ngân’s gaze, and I just watch them while fidgeting with the hem of my shirt… unsure of what to say. Still, I scoot closer to Vivi before placing a hand over hers. I don’t know why, but I just know that if I were her, I’d want someone to comfort me in this moment.
“But I don’t blame Hoa.” Cô Ngân speaks again. “Maybe she found something better for herself. Everyone knows how hard it was back then.”
Vivi swallows. “What do you mean?”
Cô Ngân looks at her sadly. “You’re Vietnamese American, aren’t you?”
Vivi immediately shrinks into herself at that question. I find myself getting restless, wanting to protect her.
“It’s okay that you don’t know,” Cô Ngân says. “A lot of younger kids still don’t. But what do you think happens when a war is over? Fighting is easy. Living is hard. And how do you live, or hold on to that hope of living, when you’ve seen your country torn apart? When you don’t know when life will look up again? It was so, so tough for everyone. And when all you know is harshness, you want to run away from it, too.”
“I… knew that.” Vivi breathes out. “I guess more than most kids? I’ve read a lot about Vi?t Nam, thanks to Lan.” My heart leaps again. “But I… never thought about my family and how they went through all the terrible stuff the Wikipedia pages talk about. It’s easy to read about the numbers of people dying and what happened when it’s just dry facts, but much harder to imagine the people you know experiencing the same things.”
But Vivi isn’t the only one feeling that way. Even I, a girl who grew up here in Sài Gòn, sometimes find it hard to believe that such a beautiful city went through hell.
Cô Ngân’s eyes soften. “As long as you know, that is good enough. But for these people…”
Vivi’s face falls. “So we can’t find them after all.”
I squeeze her hand again, feeling her gaze on me. “Just listen, Cô’s about to say something.”
She returns to the photo, her eyebrows still scrunched. “Though I don’t see them anymore, I think someone I know may have an idea. Lan, you know the uncle who sells com t?m—the one that was friends with your dad?”
My chest squeezes tight at the mention of Ba, except not as tight as it used to. I nod. “Bác Tu?n.”
“Yes, ask Bác Tu?n about these people. He might know them. He went to school with the daughters in the photo.”
Vivi’s face brightens immediately, and she scoops the photo back into her hands, cradling it against her chest. “Thank you, Cô. You don’t know how much you’ve helped me.”
I face Vivi, warmth fluttering through my body at her smile. Still, I’m relieved my hunch was right. Everyone in Sài Gòn really knows someone.
She looks at me, really looks at me, and I find myself wanting to keep helping her. To keep sitting next to her just like this, giving her comfort if she needs me.
Chapter EighteenVIVI
Lan and I continue wandering through Ch? B?n Thành, my mind preoccupied with Mom and the women in the photograph. Somehow and somewhere along the way, Sài Gòn stopped being a study abroad fluke, a secret I’d pocket forever once I boarded my return flight. I’m really on my way to unfolding Mom’s history. My history.
While I’m lost in thought, my hand accidentally brushes against Lan’s, causing my stomach to do its silly little flip for the umpteenth time today. My heart, as always, runs miles whenever I’m near her. Whenever the lightest touch of her skin meets mine. Everything she says makes my thoughts blurry.
Vivi’s really pretty.
“Are you okay?” Lan asks, concerns dripping from her voice. Her eyes scan my body, and as a response, I stiffen immediately. I bite my cheek, and my ears heat up again as I remember what just happened. How her fingers felt on my exposed back.
I nod, eyes covered by the hair falling on my face.
She reaches to tuck them away, her lips parting. The scent of orchids overwhelms me. “Here, Cô Ngân wanted to give you this.”
