"SHE CALL AGAIN," Mama greeted me.
I looked a question at her.
"Woman say her name Candy, remember? Little Candy from Hudson Street. Very important."
"Nothing's so important."
Mama's eyes were black, small hard dots in her smooth round face. "Baby important, okay? Baby safe now."
"I thought…"
"Yes. You think, you think what is right. Big girl, you love her, she's gone. High price."
"Too high."
"No. Babies die first, soon no people, okay?"
I put my fingers on each side of my head, holding it like an eggshell with cracks. I wanted to howl like Pansy, grieve for my woman. For myself. Nothing came.
Mama stayed with me. One of the waiters came over, said something in Cantonese. Mama ignored him. He went away. I felt the trembling inside me, but it wasn't my old pal this time. Not fear. I wasn't afraid. Too sad to cry. Nothing left alive to hate.
I looked over at the only woman I had ever called Mama. "Max could have beaten him."
"Maybe."
"I didn't know the answer, Mama."
She tapped my hand to make me watch her face. See the truth. "You don't know the answer, you must be the answer."
"Who said that? Confucius?"
"I say that," she said.
When she got up, she left a piece of paper in front of me.