San Francisco, California
April, 1907
Lee Ming dusted off the jars in her grandfather’s apothecary shop. Each was carefully labeled in Mandarin. There were also numbers that indicated books and pages to look up how much of a given ingredient might be needed for a compound. Grandfather Lee was grateful to the family association; his investments with them allowed him to rebuild after the earthquake last year.
Ming loved helping Grandfather Lee at the shop; her other position, with the Rochambeaus as their daughter’s amah, was not terribly taxing and afforded her the opportunity to learn at the elderly herbalist’s side.
“It is quite a surprise,” Grandfather Lee announced to no one in particular. “Your brother wanting so much to be a Western man. His suits from the Sears, Roebuck book. His haircut … aiee. And what kind of a name is Samuel? Song is a good name for a man.”
“Grandfather, “ Ming was cautious in her approach, “Samuel is a name from the Christian Bible. It means ‘God listens.’ Perhaps this new name is Song’s way of praying to God.”
“Aiee,” Grandfather repeated. “The Christian Bible? What is wrong with the I Ching? Song is trying too hard to fit in: to pretend that he is all white and not half-Chinese. It will only be bad for him. And you! You are no help, bringing that gwai lo woman to our New Year’s festival. I saw how she looked at Samuel … and he at her.”
Ming sighed; Grandfather Lee spoke the truth. She could only imagine the conflict that would arise if her family learned that Samuel was paying court to Veronique. Bad enough that she was not Chinese, but Veronique was that very daughter whom Ming served … and Ming’s friend.
“Song is a very smart man,” Ming replied. “He will not do anything to bring shame upon us.”
“I think, granddaughter, that he has already brought shame upon us. I only hope that he realizes it before something horrible happens.”
Ming had already given some thought to this; the Chinese Exclusion Act prescribed just what rights she and her family possessed. Samuel seemed determined to flout the anti-miscegenation portion of the law with his secret courtship. Like Grandfather Lee, Ming could only hope that either Samuel or Veronique would come to their senses … sooner rather than later.
“Indeed, Grandfather. Now, let us go home for lunch. Mother is sure to have made something lovely.”
They locked the door behind themselves and walked up Grant Avenue for the comforts of home.