is as charming as a poisonous snake!”
“How long have you known her?”
A few seconds passed before he answered. “I knew her in China.” He grimaced at the memory. “When she was young, she was beautiful, but not nice.”
It was difficult to picture how the Widow’s hardened face might have looked in her youth. Now her styled coiffure and make-up created the illusion of beauty over mean eyes, a flat nose and a hard mouth. Jenny leaned forward, encouraging him to tell his story.
“She wanted to marry me so she could come to Canada.” He brought the teacup to his lips and slurped the hot liquid. “Her parents offered a big dowry, but my parents had already arranged for me to marry your grandmother.” He shrugged. “It was my duty as the eldest son to marry. One day, a friend and I sneaked to the village where your grandmother lived. I saw her from a distance.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not allowed to. I was not supposed to see her face until the wedding day. But when I saw her, I knew she was the one to marry.”
She’d never heard him say anything so sentimental. “What did Mrs. Woo do?” Jenny asked, suppressing a smile.
“Oh! She was so mad. Screaming. Crying. Yelling.” He paused. “I never understood why she behaved like that.” He picked up his teacup, drained it and held it out to Jenny. “Pour me some more.”
Jenny picked up the pot and filled the cup. The Widow could either be nursing a hatred for Grandfather or carrying a torch for him.
He closed his eyes to take a nap. Age had not eroded the features of the man who had immigrated to Canada decades ago. He had the same sparkle of kindness in his dark brown eyes and the same smile of contentment on his lips as in his wedding picture. Considering how happy her grandparents were, Jenny wouldn’t be surprised if the Widow Woo nursed a grudge.
As she had promised Mrs. Tan, Jenny arrived at Fletcher’s Field promptly at eight the following Tuesday morning. The group was already assembled at the south end of the park. Jenny was surprised to see Grandfather. He was not inclined to exercise and only came if Granny nagged him. After she greeted her grandparents and Mrs. Tan, Granny introduced her to the other women: Wendy, a slim, pretty woman in her late twenties who, Jenny remembered, was Mrs. Yu’s daughter, and Mrs. Hong, a grim-faced woman who was about Granny’s age. They arranged themselves into two parallel lines and began the form.
Raise Hands.
Strum the Lute.
Grasp the bird’s tail.
A male jogger stopped and joined them. So did a woman out for a stroll with her German Shepherd.
White Crane Spreads Wings.
Brush Knee Twist.
Practising the form in the park under the clear morning sky was meditative. The cool morning air flowed over Jenny’s bare arms. Concentrating on the movements erased her worries about finding a summer job. From the corner of her eye, Jenny noticed another person join them. She turned to smile at the newcomer.
A pair of dark eyes gleamed and bright red lips painted with insincerity smiled back.
The Widow Woo.
Goose pimples rose on Jenny’s skin. Her smile wavered. She glanced towards her grandparents to see if they had seen the Widow. If they had, they didn’t show it.
Step Forward, Parry and Punch.
Fifteen minutes later, after they had finished the last movement, the Widow stepped up to Grandfather.
Like a dandelion in a garden of roses on a breezy day, she bowed her head. “Mr. Leung, how pleasant to see you here,” she said with a practised smile. “Ah, Old Lady Leung, I am glad to see you are well. You must enjoy the day while you are able.”
“I will be enjoying many more days, as I am in perfect health,” Granny answered.
“Mr. Leung, please do not hesitate to call me if you find yourself alone. After all, old friends should comfort each other.” Without another word, the Widow walked away. Wendy Yu spat on the ground behind her heels.
“Aiee-ya!” Mrs. Tan exclaimed. “How dare she! You should have kicked her out, Mr. Leung.”
“This is a public park.” Grandfather clenched his jaw.
Granny walked away while the others argued and headed towards her house. Jenny caught up to her.
“Why is she causing us trouble?” Granny’s thin body shook with anger.
A ball of hate churned in Jenny’s stomach as she silently accompanied her grandmother back home.
Mr. Tan wielded the butcher’s knife in his right hand and, with quick accurate strokes, sliced half a roast duck lying on the butcher’s block into bite-sized portions. He scooped the slices up onto the blade, neatly plopped them into an aluminum foil container, and sealed it. “Very good duck,” he said with a faint smile. “Very fresh.” He wiped his hands on the stained apron tied around his waist.
It was apparent his battle with the Widow and the Phoenix Noodle Company was taking its toll. Jenny had always thought his smooth round face, hairless head and short stocky body resembled a happy Buddha. But now, creases and lines accentuated his forehead and his eyes; his smile lacked its usual sparkle.
Jenny’s mother had given her a list of groceries and asked her to shop at the Lucky Grocery Store as a show of support for Granny’s friends. Mrs. Tan rang up the purchases and began stuffing white plastic bags with bottles and boxes of oriental condiments, tea, tofu, fresh bok choy and the aluminum container of duck. Jenny handed her the money and pocketed the change without a glance.
“Mrs. Woo came back to tai chi on Thursday. Can you believe it?” Mrs. Tan lowered her voice so the other customers wandering up and down the aisles would not overhear. “That woman knows she is not welcome in our group, but still she comes.” Mrs. Tan’s shoulders heaved. “This time, she told your grandmother exercise cannot protect a person. Healthy and fit people are not immortal.”
An invisible weight pressed against Jenny’s chest. “Was she threatening my grandmother?”
Mrs. Tan’s face was grim. “She chooses her words carefully. I believe she meant to make your grandmother uncomfortable. Hopefully, it was nothing more.” She moved away to serve another customer.
De la Gauchetière Street was crowded with Saturday morning shoppers. The street, which had been converted into a bricked pedestrian mall years ago, was lined with sidewalk merchants selling inexpensive toys, slippers, incense and other dry goods. Jenny stepped into the flow of the crowd and headed east to St. Laurent Street.
She saw her grandfather first. He stood on the corner gesticulating wildly at a petite woman who held herself rigidly against the storm of his anger. It was the Widow Woo. Jenny’s curiosity propelled her towards them. Neither of them noticed her.
“I am not ruining your life,” the Widow said icily. “It was you who ruined mine.”
“You cannot hold me responsible!” Jenny’s
