door.
•
Severo del Valle waited three weeks without news of Lynn, until he couldn't contain his impatience any longer and went to the tea shop to ask Eliza Sommers to allow him to speak with her daughter. He expected to be met with unyielding resistance, but Eliza, enveloped in her aroma of sugar and vanilla, received him with the same serenity Tao Chi'en had shown when he spoke with him. At first Eliza had blamed herself for what happened: she had been careless, she hadn't been capable of protecting her daughter, and now the girl's life was ruined. She wept in her husband's arms until he reminded her that when she was sixteen she had suffered a similar experience: the same excessive love, abandonment by her lover, pregnancy, terror. The difference was that Lynn was not alone; she would not have to run away from home and sail half the length of the hemisphere in the hold of a ship to follow an unworthy man, as Eliza had done. Lynn had come to her parents, and it was their great good fortune that they were able to help her, Tao Chi'en had said. In China or in Chile, their daughter would be lost, society would have no forgiveness, but in California, a land without tradition, there was room for everyone. The zhong-yi gathered his small family together and told them that the baby was a gift from heaven and that they should await it with joy; tears were bad for karma, they harmed the creature in the mother's womb and marked it for a life of uncertainty. This infant boy or girl would be welcome. Its uncle Lucky, and he himself, its grandfather, would be worthy substitutes for the absent father. And as for Lynn's thwarted love, well, they would think about that later. He seemed so enthusiastic about the prospect of being a grandfather that Eliza was embarrassed about her prudish concerns; she dried her tears and never again blamed herself. If to Tao Chi'en the compassion he felt for his daughter counted more than family honor, the same should be true for her, she decided; her duty was to protect Lynn and nothing else mattered. That was what she calmly told Severo del Valle that day in the tearoom. She did not understand the Chilean's reasons for insisting on speaking with her daughter, but she interceded in his behalf, and finally Lynn agreed to see him. She barely remembered him, but she welcomed him with the hope that he was there as an emissary of Matias.
During the months that followed, Severo del Valle's visits to the home of the Chi'ens became a habit. He would come at nightfall, when he was through work, tie his horse in front of the house, and appear, hat in one hand and some gift in the other, until gradually Lynn's room filled with toys and baby clothes. Tao Chi'en taught him to play mahjongg, and they spent hours with Eliza and Lynn moving the beautiful ivory tiles. Lucky didn't join them because to him it seemed a waste of time to play without betting. In contrast, Tao Chi'en played only in the bosom of his family, because in his youth he had sworn never to play for money and he was sure that if he broke that vow he would bring down some misfortune. The Chi'ens became so accustomed to Severo's presence that when he was late they would consult the clock, worried. Eliza Sommers took advantage of his visits to practice her Spanish and remember Chile, that far-off country she still thought of as her homeland but had not set foot in for more than thirty years. They discussed the details of the war, and political changes. After several decades of conservative governments the liberals had triumphed and the struggle to break the hold of the clergy and enact reforms had divided every Chilean family. Most men, however Catholic they might be, were eager to modernize the country, but the women, who were much more religious, turned against their fathers and husbands to defend the Church. As Nívea explained in her letters, no matter how liberal the government, the fate of the poor had not changed, and she added that, as they had
•
Severo del Valle waited three weeks without news of Lynn, until he couldn't contain his impatience any longer and went to the tea shop to ask Eliza Sommers to allow him to speak with her daughter. He expected to be met with unyielding resistance, but Eliza, enveloped in her aroma of sugar and vanilla, received him with the same serenity Tao Chi'en had shown when he spoke with him. At first Eliza had blamed herself for what happened: she had been careless, she hadn't been capable of protecting her daughter, and now the girl's life was ruined. She wept in her husband's arms until he reminded her that when she was sixteen she had suffered a similar experience: the same excessive love, abandonment by her lover, pregnancy, terror. The difference was that Lynn was not alone; she would not have to run away from home and sail half the length of the hemisphere in the hold of a ship to follow an unworthy man, as Eliza had done. Lynn had come to her parents, and it was their great good fortune that they were able to help her, Tao Chi'en had said. In China or in Chile, their daughter would be lost, society would have no forgiveness, but in California, a land without tradition, there was room for everyone. The zhong-yi gathered his small family together and told them that the baby was a gift from heaven and that they should await it with joy; tears were bad for karma, they harmed the creature in the mother's womb and marked it for a life of uncertainty. This infant boy or girl would be welcome. Its uncle Lucky, and he himself, its grandfather, would be worthy substitutes for the absent father. And as for Lynn's thwarted love, well, they would think about that later. He seemed so enthusiastic about the prospect of being a grandfather that Eliza was embarrassed about her prudish concerns; she dried her tears and never again blamed herself. If to Tao Chi'en the compassion he felt for his daughter counted more than family honor, the same should be true for her, she decided; her duty was to protect Lynn and nothing else mattered. That was what she calmly told Severo del Valle that day in the tearoom. She did not understand the Chilean's reasons for insisting on speaking with her daughter, but she interceded in his behalf, and finally Lynn agreed to see him. She barely remembered him, but she welcomed him with the hope that he was there as an emissary of Matias.
During the months that followed, Severo del Valle's visits to the home of the Chi'ens became a habit. He would come at nightfall, when he was through work, tie his horse in front of the house, and appear, hat in one hand and some gift in the other, until gradually Lynn's room filled with toys and baby clothes. Tao Chi'en taught him to play mahjongg, and they spent hours with Eliza and Lynn moving the beautiful ivory tiles. Lucky didn't join them because to him it seemed a waste of time to play without betting. In contrast, Tao Chi'en played only in the bosom of his family, because in his youth he had sworn never to play for money and he was sure that if he broke that vow he would bring down some misfortune. The Chi'ens became so accustomed to Severo's presence that when he was late they would consult the clock, worried. Eliza Sommers took advantage of his visits to practice her Spanish and remember Chile, that far-off country she still thought of as her homeland but had not set foot in for more than thirty years. They discussed the details of the war, and political changes. After several decades of conservative governments the liberals had triumphed and the struggle to break the hold of the clergy and enact reforms had divided every Chilean family. Most men, however Catholic they might be, were eager to modernize the country, but the women, who were much more religious, turned against their fathers and husbands to defend the Church. As Nívea explained in her letters, no matter how liberal the government, the fate of the poor had not changed, and she added that, as they had
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