The Joy Luck Club Page #4

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Great to meet you.

Boy, something smells wonderful.

I guess we came to the right

place, huh? Here you are.

You know, Waverly has been telling me

that you are the best cook.

I think maybe we got her.

So many spots on his face.

Of course, the night

was still young.

Thank god I already prepped

him on the Emily Post of Chinese manners.

Hi, Uncle.

How are you?

Actually, there were a few things

I forgot to mention.

Uh, let me make a toast.

- He shouldn't have had that second glass...

- Here's to...

- when everyone else had

had only half an inch...

- everyone in the family.

just for taste.

Shrimp. My favorite.

He should have taken only

a small spoonful of the best dish...

until everyone had

had a helping.

He has good appetite.

He shouldn't have bragged

he was a fast learner.

But the worst was when Rich

criticized my mother's cooking...

and he didn't even know

what he had done.

As is the Chinese

cook's custom...

my mother always

insults her own cooking...

but only with the dishes

she serves with special pride.

This dish not salty enough.

No flavor.

It's too bad to eat.

But please--

Oh!

That was our cue

to eat some...

and proclaim it

the best she'd ever made.

You know, Lindo...

all this needs is

a little soy sauce.

Oh! Uh, oh.

So, how'd your mom react when

you told her about the wedding?

It never came up.

How come?

She'd rather get

rectal cancer.

Oh.

Ma, a soft wave for body.

What do you think?

Look, she doesn't

want it too short.

Otherwise it'll be

too tight for the wedding.

And we don't want it

looking too weird or kinky.

Isn't that right, Ma?

Not too kinky?

Why does my daughter think

she's translating English for me?

Maybe I don't go.

- What do you mean?

- Maybe I don't go to your wedding.

- Oh, don't be ridiculous.

- Maybe already ridiculous.

Hair too ridiculous for

future husband's family.

I could see her face

looking at me...

but not seeing me.

She was ashamed...

so ashamed

to be my daughter.

Ma?

- What's wrong?

- Nothing.

Nothing.

I-- I only thinking...

thinking about my mother...

how much I wanted

to be like her.

Your mother?

She told me...

all the hopes

she had for me...

words I would never forget.

You're so lucky.

You don't have ears like mine.

You'll have a better life!

But listen carefully

to what is calling.

Can you feel in your heart...

what I am saying?

Will you always keep it there?

You know...

after today...

I will never...

give you any more advice.

In my memory, my--

my mother very

important to me...

just like her words.

Easy to appreciate memory.

Ma?

Why don't you like Rich?

It's Rich you afraid

I not like?

If I don't like your Rich...

I act polite, say nothing;

let him have big cancer...

let my daughter be a widow.

I like Rich.

Of course I do...

to allow him to marry

such a daughter.

You don't know--

You don't know the power

you have over me.

One word from you,

one look...

and I'm...

four years old again,

crying myself to sleep.

Because nothing I do...

can ever, ever please you.

Now--

Now you make me happy.

Look, look, look, look, Ma, Ma,

Auntie Ying, Auntie Ying.

- I did it.

- Rich!

Where'd it go?

Did it go inside?

-Oh, come on.

-God, I can't take you anywhere.

- So where'd it end up?

- Oh, Lena, do you want to eat?

- Thank you.

- Oh, here's a fork.

- Okay.

- Well, I'm trying.

- Ta-la!

- Oh!

Wow! That's beautiful, huh?

Oh, oh.

What's the matter,

guest of honor?

- Yeah!

- Should eat more!

Should eat more!

Too skinny!

Well, I thought you said

I was getting fat.

- Auntie An Mei said that.

Why you always confusing us?

- Oh, look.

June so happy,

going to China...

see her sisters at last.

Only steamed.

Can't get you fat.

How terrible for Suyuan...

to lose your babies...

never know if they

are alive or dead.

Only one thing's worse.

I was only 1 6.

Stop looking!

Ying Ying.

Ying Ying.

Open the watermelon!

Dog fart!

Ah, Lin Xiao--

Lin Xiao.

After that, everything

like this dream.

Our wedding...

our son.

Honored guests!

Thank you for coming.

I have persuaded

the famous diva, Miss Bai Yen...

- to sing in honor of my son.

- There he was...

with his opera singer.

This was not

his first conquest...

only the first I permitted

myself to recognize.

By then I knew what kind

of man I had married:

happiest when he was cruel.

Let me have him.

He became forgetful.

Don't touch it!

So forgetful he had not

returned by the next morning.

Or the next evening.

Who's this?

This person is a whore.

Just like you.

My son!

My son!

Listen to that voice!

Strong...

like his father!

Look at you!

Disgusting!

You make me sick!

Clean up this mess!

You hear me?

My whole life turned

in this moment.

If I had left him

or killed him...

I would not have lost

the one thing that mattered.

My mind kept repeating

a single thought.

He had taken from me

my innocence...

my youth, my heart,

everything.

So I took from him

the only thing I could.

My baby was so light

in my arms...

because his little spirit

had flown away.

And with his,

my spirit had also gone.

Years later,

I moved to America.

But what I had done in China

was always with me.

In time, I remarried...

and I had a daughter.

But Lena had no spirit...

because I had none

to give her.

Mommy?

Mommy?

Are you hungry yet?

Mom?

Mommy, please answer me.

Mommy? Oh, Mom!

As I was growing up...

there were times when Mom

went through these bad spells.

She often seemed

scared and sad.

But she would never

talk about it...

except to say that she had been

married to a bad man in China.

Over the years

Mom got better...

although it seemed like all her fears

turned into worries about me.

So now that I'm married...

and she's visiting

our new house...

I hope she can finally

be happy for me.

Don't worry.

Everything's fine.

He's very nice to me.

Nice.

Nice. Very nice.

- Oh, Mom? Mom--

- What's this?

Why don't you, uh, rest

in the living room?

I'll make you

some tea, okay?

I've got some

chrysanthemum tea.

- What's this writing?

- Mom! It's nothing.

You know. It's just

the things we share.

At least that's what

Harold calls it.

Sharing.

Everything 50-50.

So our love is always equal.

- The irony is, I was the one

who started it that way.

- Let's see--

- Forty-one dollars.

- Oh, total?

Each. What?

You don't have enough?

No, it's, uh...

it's just, uh, I was

never very good at math.

So what if I had a salad

and he had three courses?

We were equals.

Except that I work in his firm

and he pays himself...

seven times more

than he pays me.

Seven and a half.

And then last year, when we

finally decided to get married...

we agreed:
love, yes;

false dependencies, no.

With most everything,

we keep track of what we spend...

then split it 50-50.

Of course we agreed early on

not to include personal stuff...

like my tampons and

feminine hygiene spray...

and his shaving lotion

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