In the background, Ted began explaining how his child-rearing philosophy had always leaned toward financial independence, but that he understood all too well—he gave Poppy a wry glance—how a little generosity from the older generations could go a long way.

Ivy didn’t know what flustered her more—that her parents, thrifty as they were, had offered to foot the bill for two hundred guests, or that Poppy, for all her firm suggestions on how the wedding should be arranged, had not planned on chipping in at all. It’d been a delicate procedure planning the wedding thus far, since Ivy could never bring herself to speak frankly about dollar figures with any Speyer. It’d been especially awkward when dealing with tactless people like Meifeng, who nagged her at least once a week about how much money Gideon made, to which Ivy would respond with evasive, nonnumerical answers delivered in irritated tones. In reality, she had no idea how much Gideon made or the size of his trust fund (if any)—he spent money easily and decisively, saying no to small expenses as often as he agreed to larger ones, thus revealing nothing about his inherent wealth—and Ivy felt annoyed that this should be such an obsession on Meifeng’s part when even Nan hadn’t thought to ask Ivy about such private matters.

Poppy said, “I hope the reception will be up to your high standards, Nan. You have impeccable taste, that wonderful Chanel jacket…”

“All those checks you’ve been sending us these years,” Meifeng whispered to Ivy under her breath. “Your mother’s been saving them for you. And more.”

Ivy could only nod stiffly at her grandmother. Was this where she was supposed to castrate herself in gratitude? First the loan to cover her year’s rent. Now this. I’ll pay every cent back after I become a lawyer, she vowed, feeling very flat all of a sudden. The conversations continued on around her in pairs, everyone looking old and tired and gray, their skin drooping like papier-maché under the dim light of the crystal chandelier. Gideon was speaking: “The slopes are very icy on the East Coast compared to Colorado—do you enjoy skiing, Nan?”

Nan’s head snapped back in surprise. “Call me Mom,” she said firmly. “You’re my son now.”

There was a sharp sound of a chair scraping. Everyone’s heads followed Austin’s figure striding out of the dining room. “Are you looking for the bathroom?” Ivy called out at his retreating back. But he was already gone.

Nan didn’t take her eyes off Gideon.

“Ah—right,” said Gideon. “… Mom.” He took a large mouthful of goat cheese and winced, reaching for his water.

“See how he squirms,” Meifeng muttered.

Nan beamed and turned to Poppy, making a wide circle with her hands. “Now we are all family.”

“Yes…” said Poppy, her almost invisible lashes fluttering in double time.

Ted cleared his throat. “You can call me Dad,” he said to Ivy with a twinkle in his eye.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Poppy. She looked around with an air of resolute gaiety. “Should we bring out the pies?”

* * *

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER and Austin still had not returned to the table. Ivy excused herself. She found him sitting on the staircase, scrolling listlessly through his phone.

“What are you doing? Come back to dinner.” No movement. “Come on,” she said more insistently. Silence. She grabbed the phone from Austin’s hands but it slipped and landed on the floor with a loud clatter. He didn’t bother to pick it up.

“It’s better that I’m not there.” He was sweating again, his pallor white and ashen, like the underbelly of a fish. A bead of sweat trailed down his neck and disappeared into the tight collar of his dress shirt.

“Let’s go,” she said, tugging at his elbow. He was too large now for this to have any effect. There came a burst of laughter from the dining room; Ivy could hear Poppy’s distinct huh huh huh carrying on the longest. “Austin,” she snapped. “You need to come back to the table.”

“Why?”

“You’re part of the family.”

“I wish I wasn’t.”

Familiar words rose to Ivy’s throat. She hated him for making her sound like a broken record all her life. “Just be…” She couldn’t finish. Austin’s face was twisting, his chin quivering, one hand over his eyes. Just be cool, was what she was going to say, this childish phrase seemingly the perfect advice that encompassed all she wanted for Austin: ease, assurance, knowledge of what mattered and what didn’t.

Before Austin could compose himself, Poppy was walking toward them, smiling her eager hostess smile. “Is everything all right here? I wasn’t sure if you two got lost.”

Ivy said “Everything’s fine” just as Austin said “I’m sorry.”

Poppy sat down beside Austin on the stairs. “I was talking to your sister about this earlier. I hear you’re interested in working with computers?”

Austin glanced at Ivy. She nodded.

“Uh, I guess,” he said.

“My cousin Spencer is looking for an intern for his software company in New York. Would you be interested in something like that?”

“What kind of intern?”

“You know, I never asked about the specifics. But I’m sure he’d very much like to talk to you about it.”

Austin mumbled something about not being qualified. Poppy said, “Oh, I’m sure you can learn on the job. They don’t expect you to come in with prior experience… I think you’d be fantastic at it…” When Austin didn’t respond, she said, “That’s settled then. I’ll get your email from Ivy and have Spencer send some information over to you.” She picked his phone up off the floor and handed it back to him. Austin stared at the cracked screen without moving. Poppy slid one arm around his hulking shoulders, tentative at first, then more firmly when he didn’t stiffen but instead lowered his head. “There, there,” Poppy soothed. Ivy was confused by this remark until she saw the steady drops of tears sliding off the end of Austin’s nose into his lap.

“Get some tissues for us, will you, Ivy?” Poppy whispered.

By the time Ivy returned, Austin was wiping his face on his sweater, his blazer draped over his legs. Poppy was speaking to him in quiet tones; he nodded, twisted his hands in his lap. Ivy only heard the last few sentences: “… between us… nothing to worry about. Why don’t you get freshened up in the bathroom and we’ll go have some dessert. Do you like apple pie?” Austin mumbled that he did. When Ivy caught her brother’s face on his way to the bathroom, she saw that he looked as if some knot had finally unwound inside him. He even managed a small grimace that was supposed to be an apologetic smile.

Ivy’s astonishment was so great it erased all other emotions. All those flunked classes, meticulous plans, doctor visits, vitamin injections, and all Austin needed was a motherly shoulder to cry on? Poppy’s butter-soft hands to pat his back and say, There, there? She couldn’t believe that the respect and understanding her brother had sought all his life had come from, of all people, Poppy Speyer, the woman who worried about things like where to find a rare 1830s Georgian sterling silver spoon to complete her collection.

For the first time in her life, Ivy saw how her marriage to Gideon, which she’d guarded from the Lins like a dragon over its most precious treasure, could lead to a new identity not just for herself but for her family. It was something that Meifeng used to tell her: one successful marriage feeds three generations. Only now did she believe this.

17

AUSTIN STARTED HIS NEW INTERNSHIP immediately after the New Year. Every morning, he caught the seven forty train into Manhattan, and he returned in the evening with the commuter crowd. Shen took him to the outlet malls to buy four suits in muted shades of blue and gray, striped silk ties, thin cotton socks that Austin color-coordinated with his ties. He needed a new cell phone, because of the cracked screen, as well as a new laptop because the fan had stopped working on his old one. The internship was unpaid, so Nan gave him a credit card for his daily expenses. He liked to pick up a bagel and a yogurt smoothie at Penn Station for breakfast, then lunch at a popular sushi place in midtown. And because he felt guilty about living at home while his new friends at the company had to pay their own rent, he would often treat them to sashimi platters as well.