Free Soy Sauce for Beginners by Kirstin Chen Page A

in that awful synthetic butter?”
    His mouth twisted in mock disgust. “Never,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I eat only organic, all-natural, whole foods.”
    I picked up a sushi roll with my fingers and made a big show of dunking it in the sauce before popping it in my mouth.
    James clicked his tongue against his upper teeth. “The horror, the horror.”
    When I finished chewing, I said, “The trick is to hold your breath.”
    He let out a big laugh, and I felt the stress seep out of me.
    Across the pool, guests swirled about like schools of colorful fish.
    He followed my gaze. “Do you know any of the one million people at this party?”
    As a matter of fact, I did. Over there, seated on a deck chair, was Cindy Lau, my childhood second-best friend. When we were nine, Kat, Cindy and I had purchased identical fake-gold, heart-shaped pendants, inscribed with the words Best Friends . We’d vowed to wear them forever—except I kept accidentally wearing mine in the shower until all I had left was an illegible black lump of oxidized brass. Beside Cindy was her husband Terrance, who spent most of his time at the Island Country Club, lifting weights and playing tennis while his wife worked long hours as a corporate lawyer. That tall, skinny girl with the purple feather boa was Liwen Poon, who I heard had given up her venture capital job to release an album of pop songs. Coming through the patio door was Mark de Souza, the boy every girl in my primary-three class had had a crush on, and beside him, with her hand in the back pocket of his jeans, was his current girlfriend Lakshmi, a former computer programmer turned restaurateur.
    “So if you know everyone, why are you out here all by yourself?” James held my gaze, a wry smile on his lips.
    Something about his expression or his American accent made me think, Maybe I could try to explain, maybe he would get it . Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Frankie making her way over, and disappointment poured through me.
    She said, “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
    “How’d it go with Pierre?” I asked.
    “So, you’re the one he was going on and on about,” said James.
    I introduced James and Frankie to each other, explaining that he was Lin’s newest client and that she was about to be Lin’s newest employee.
    “So you moved all the way here to pursue your love of artisanal soy sauce?” he asked.
    “Not quite,” said Frankie. “I moved all the way here to pursue my love of Singapore, though I’m more than willing to get acquainted with artisanal soy sauce, too.”
    I watched them exchange grins.
    From across the pool Kat called my name. She was waving her arms and crying that I couldn’t possibly be planning to hide out here all night. I shot Frankie and James an apologetic look.
    “Don’t worry about us,” James said. “I’ll give Frankie a crash course in the art of soy sauce brewing.”
    I followed Kat inside.
    The crowd in the living room had thinned. My childhood duet partner was still at the piano, and a group had gathered around to sing a Mandarin ballad I didn’t know.
    “Drinks off the piano, please,” Kat said as we swept past.
    The silver balloons had spread across the ceiling like an ominous pattern on a weather map. Occasionally their thin black ribbons brushed the tops of guests’ heads, causing them to look up in alarm. Kat approached the group lounging on the circular couch, and I trailed behind.
    “And so I told him, if I’m going to give up coffee, you better do it, too,” Cindy was saying. She pecked Terrance’s cheek and laid her head on his shoulder.
    “It’s true,” he said. “That first week, she kena caffeine withdrawal, I didn’t dare take breakfast with her.”
    “Just be glad you’re still allowed to drink champagne,” said Cindy. She turned to me. “Gretch. Finally decided to show your face.”
    Only the slightest mound of a belly protruded from beneath her slim red dress, but I’d already