Page 33

Tri ? t and M á insisted that I take the day off. This time, I listened to them. I do my usual morning routine: sweep the yard, water the orchids and herbs, and kiss Ba’s picture on the altar. Then, instead of running out to the bánh mì stall, I make myself walk to the bakery. Ba’s books have been there for too long. It’s time I bring them home.

“Good morning, Lan!” Chú Hai calls when I open the door. “What brings you here today? Tri ? t already picked up the baguettes this morning.”

I clear my throat. “I’m here for the books.”

He gives me a thumbs-up and disappears into the back, coming back with the box, which has been well cared for. “That’s unusual. Is today a special day that I should know about?”

I smile at him. “I just felt like being brave today.”

Not a lie. I’m still unsure if I’m ready to talk to Vivi again, but being brave also means taking one step at a time.

Waving goodbye to Chú Hai, I run toward the flimsy door and hike up to my favorite rooftop. The spot that used to be Ba’s favorite, too.

Flipping open the first book from the box, I see Ba’s handwriting scribbled across the top. A masterpiece and must-read , he wrote. I crack a smile. He annotated the entire book, writing down all his thoughts as he read. I flip through every page, carefully reading his annotations ( Brilliant! What an idea! Beautiful! ), brushing my fingers over his writing. Then, he wrote on the last page of the book, To Lan, if you’re ever bored and want some rainy day reads, this one’s for you . Laughing to myself, I clutch the book closer. Then I let the tears fall again.

I continue flipping through each book, tracing his thoughts and writing, and smiling to myself whenever I find my name.

Ba hoarded books because he wanted me to read them so he could hear my thoughts. I turn to the last page of the book in my hand and nearly cry again.

For when you grow up , he wrote.

As time passes and Sài Gòn comes alive, I stay where I am, reading through Ba’s warm, loving words.

He’d write for when you meet the love of your life or for when you don’t know what to do , as if he was afraid that he wouldn’t be there for me when those things happened.

By the time that I’m finished, the sun has already gone to sleep. I breathe in the cool air, lie down, and stare at the bright sky. Tonight, Lyra and Orion join the Big and Little Dipper.

Ba, are you smiling at me from up there? I hope you are. I miss you so much. Please don’t be upset that I took so long to come around. I promise I’ll still take care of M á , but this time, I want to take care of myself, too.

I want to make you proud.

The North Star twinkles back at me as if hearing my wishes.

I’m drifting off to sleep when my phone rings next to me. “Hello?” I mumble.

Tri ? t’s voice comes through, although I hear Cindy in the background as well. “Hey, uh, are you by any chance with Vivi right now?”

My heart drops. “No, why? Did something happen to her?”

He sighs. “Cindy says that she dropped Vivi off at her mom’s childhood home a while ago but she still hasn’t come back to the dorm, and she’s not responding to her texts, either. We’re just worried.”

I jump up, grab the box, and start running down the hill. “I’ll find her. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure? We can go together.”

“It’s okay. I’m coming back for my motorbike right now. I think that I should do this… alone.”

I can feel Tri ? t nodding. “I understand,” he says. “I’ll let Cindy know.”

I race to the house, stumbling and scraping my knee against the wet concrete. I don’t care. I keep going, looking at the twinkling North Star and praying that Vivi is safe. I haven’t told her that I’m sorry yet. I haven’t told her I love her yet.

As I near the house, Tri ? t’s already waiting outside with my motorbike. I give him the box, earning a confused look from him, and grab my helmet from his hand. M á ’s next to him, nodding her head and smiling at me. “I’m proud of you.”

I maneuver through Sài Gòn’s winding roads toward District 2. The night’s brisk air beats on my back as I speed faster and faster, the wind muffling my ears while other motorbikes around me honk as I pass them. After twenty minutes, District 2 comes into view. Thank goodness that I’ve lived in this city all my life because I know all the alleyways by heart now. I recognize the church from last time and turn into the small alleyway next to it. A small two-story house with mismatched roofs comes into view. I hop off my motorbike, forgetting to turn it off, and run toward the door. Without a thought, I knock furiously. “Vivi!”

The small girl that’s been the center of my world comes out. Her eyebrows scrunch when she meets my eyes. “Lan?”

Flustered, I look at my feet, unsure of how to handle this. The last time we talked, she had stomped out in anger. What can I say to make this all right again? What can I say to make her forgive me?

“I came to see you. I’m sorry.”

“You hurt me, Lan.” Her voice quivers. “I did everything I could to help you, and yet you pushed me away like I didn’t mean anything to you. I didn’t know if I’d see you again. If I’m going to leave Sài Gòn without ever talking to the girl I love.”

My tears drip onto the pavement, each drop staining the concrete. “You’re the reason I started writing again. The reason why I even got the courage to go grab my dad’s books. Four years ago… my dad called me the day he felt sick, but I was out with friends and writing for the blog, so I didn’t pick up. I blamed myself for everything that happened and was afraid to lose my mom in the same way. I know I’ve hurt you. I know I shouldn’t have said everything that I did, and that all this time, all you’ve ever wanted was the best for me.”

“It was always, always you, Vivi. You who pulled me out of my rut. You who made life in Sài Gòn so much more colorful. You who inspired my writing. You who helped me get this job. It has always been you.”

She bites her lips, her chin trembling, and bursts into tears. “When I started this study abroad trip, I felt like an outsider. Like I was intruding and didn’t belong in this city. Then, as I spent more time with you, I realized that maybe Sài Gòn is home. Maybe Sài Gòn is home because it’s with you.”

“I—”

Vivi shakes her head before continuing. “You were right, Lan. I don’t understand how it feels. I am lucky, so lucky to have what I have. I’m so lucky to even be able to do this study abroad program and meet you. I’m so sorry I didn’t think about how you’d feel. I don’t know what it means to have to wake up before the sun even rises every day, to have to worry about where my food will come from next. I don’t know how it feels to lose someone, or to carry the burden of being someone’s livelihood. I’m sorry.” Vivi kisses my forehead deeply, her lips brushing heat and warmth throughout my chest. “It has always been you for me, too.”

“Vivi…” I can barely see her face through my tears and snot. She holds me closer and kisses my forehead, each touch igniting a fire inside of me.

“Today I finally went to grab the books that my dad has always wanted me to have. I was so scared to touch them because I didn’t think that I was ever going to be ready. I held on to this promise that I made to him about protecting my mom forever because it gave me purpose. I was scared that I’d be lost by myself without him. It was an easy way out. You inspired me to be brave, and taught me that I can choose for myself,” I choke out. “You are the best thing in my life. Sometimes I think about how my dad probably pulled some strings from wherever he is to get us together. And I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

She looks at me, her eyes glossy. “Do you mean it?”

I nod. “Yeah. I do. I mean all of it. Everything I’ve said.”

“What about the magazine contest—”

I inhale sharply, my heart beating fast as I prepare myself for what I’m about to tell her. This is it. This is my decision, and Vivi needs to know. “I’m going to take the journalism job with the magazine. Tri ? t will step in for me—do whatever my mom needs. I… I’m finally going to do it, Vivi, finally going to see the cities outside of Sài Gòn.”

“Lan.” She chokes out a sob. “I’m so proud of you. You are so talented and you deserve this so much and no one works harder than you and no one is as creative, as masterful with their writing, and no one can ever compare to you—and I hope you know that. I love you.”

My heart swells. “I love you, too,” I whisper before leaning in, the air sizzling between us just before her lips meet mine. We embrace each other tightly, tenderly, and as if our bodies are so delicate we might break. I lean in deeper, caressing her face with my hands. Warmth spreads through my body, and I nudge my mouth with everything I’ve got—all my sorrys, my desperation, and my overwhelming feelings for her.

“I love you, too, Lan,” she says, her face flushed between my palms.

Someone clears their throat behind us. “Vivi? Is this Lan?”

We jump from our position and untangle our limbs from each other. Vivi, red from head to toe, manages to squeak—not speak. “Yes, Mom.”

I gape at her. Her mom ? I must have missed a chapter. Or two. “Chào c?, I’m Lan. I’m Vivi’s, uh.” I give Vivi a side glance.

“Girlfriend. Yes, this is my girlfriend,” she says, and grabs me to straighten my back.

Her mom softens her gaze at us and takes my head in her hands. “Con, thank you for taking care of Vivi for me. She loves Sài Gòn, and I think you’re the reason why.”

I blush. “It was nothing, I didn’t mind it at all.”

She nods to Vivi and me before speaking the phrase that all Vietnamese mothers use interchangeably with I love you . “Have you eaten?”