Rich People Problems (Crazy Rich Asians #3)(101)
"Of course. Go to my closet and pick out anything you'd like for him. One of the Borrellis might be nice. Actually, give me a second and I'll do it." As his mother left the bathroom, Oliver thought to himself, I've learned my lesson. Next time I'm going to put them up at a hotel, even if they kick and scream.* This flat is just too small for three people.
* * *
* Asian parents visiting their adult children who live in other cities ALWAYS INSIST on staying with them, no matter if the child lives in a studio apartment or the house is already bursting at the seams with too many hormonal teenagers, and even if the parents could afford to buy out a whole floor of the Ritz-Carlton. And of course, even if you're forty-six years old, suffering from sleep apnea and chronic sciatica, you're still expected to give up your master bedroom to your parents and sleep on the inflatable mattress in the living room. Because that's just how it is.
CHAPTER FOUR
ST. ANDREW'S CATHEDRAL, SINGAPORE
Inside the lead Mercedes escorting the funeral cortege from Tyersall Park to the cathedral, Harry Leong was staring out the window, trying to ignore the incessant chatter that came from his wife, Felicity, arguing over last-minute details with her sister Victoria.
"No, we have to let the president of Singapore speak first. That follows official protocol," Victoria said.
"But then the Sultan of Borneo will be terribly insulted. Royalty should always come before elected officials," Felicity argued back.
"Rubbish, this is our country, and our president has precedence. You only care about the sultan because of all the Leong plantations in Borneo."
"I care about him not urinating all over the pulpit at St. Andrew's. His Majesty is an elderly diabetic with a weak bladder. He should get to have the first word. Besides, he knew Mummy even before the president was born."
"Reverend Bo Lor Yong is going to have the first word. He's going to read the blessing."
"WHAT? You invited Bo Lor Yong too? How many pastors are going to be at this funeral?" Felicity asked incredulously.
"Only three. Reverend Bo will deliver the blessing, Bishop See will give the sermon, and Pastor Tony Chi will say the closing prayer."
"What a pity. Is it too late to ask Tony to deliver the sermon? He's so much better than that See Bei Sien," Felicity scoffed.
Harry Leong groaned. "Can you speak softer? You two are giving me a migraine. If I knew you were going to argue all the way, I would have ridden in Astrid's car."
"You know your security won't let you ride with her. She doesn't have bulletproof windows," Felicity said.
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In the Jaguar XJL (which was not bulletproof) following behind them, Eleanor Young sat scrutinizing her son's face intently. "I think next week I should make an appointment for you to see my dermatologist. Those puffy lines under your eyes … I'm not happy with them. Dr. Teo can do wonders with his laser."
"Mum, it's fine. I just didn't get much sleep last night," Nick said.
"He was up all night writing his tribute to Ah Ma," Rachel explained.
"Why did it take all night?" Eleanor asked.
"It was the hardest thing I've ever had to write, Mum. You try condensing Ah Ma's entire life into a thousand words."
Rachel squeezed Nick's hand encouragingly. She knew how much he had struggled over his speech, working on it until the wee hours and getting out of bed several times after that to make a change or add another anecdote.
Eleanor kept prodding. "Why should there be a word limit?"
"Auntie Victoria insisted that I only have five minutes for my speech. And that's about a thousand words."
"Five minutes? What nonsense! You were her closest grandson, and the only Young. You should be allowed to speak as long as you wish!"
"Apparently there are going to be a lot of speeches, so I'm just toeing the party line," Nick said. "It's fine, Mum. I'm very happy with my speech now."
"Oh my. Who is that woman in the car beside us?" Rachel suddenly asked. Everyone turned to look into the Rolls that was trying to overtake them, where there was a woman wearing a black hat with a dramatic black veil draped over her face.
"Looks like Marlene Dietrich," Philip chuckled as he drove.
"Aiyah, Philip! Pay attention to the road!" Eleanor yelled. "Actually, it does look like Marlene Dietrich. I wonder which sultan's wife that could be?"
Peering over, Nick laughed. "That's no sultana. That's Fiona Tung behind that getup."