Why Do I Love These People?: Honest and Amazing Stories of Real Families (Random House Large Print)

The Cook's Story We've all lost something along the way. In Jennifer Louie's case, what she had lost was a belief that her family was a fundamentally essential thing, a meaningful purpose worth her devotion, a principle on which to build her life. Family is like Religion: There are all kinds, but when you get right down to it, you either believe, or you're not sure, or you think it's a crock of hooey. Jen had lost her belief. She had it in China, and she lost it when she came to America. These things happenshe was moving on. She was in the right place to lose it: The United States of America has seventy-six million great families with roots around the world, but it's also one of the best places in which to move on after losing belief. It can be done here. Those "Not Sure" have plenty of company. Then, unexpectedly, it came back. Her belief. It came back when she got to know her father, James, but not as her father, just as a man, a human being with feelings. She found herself loving him again, with a respect she'd not had in twenty years. This is their story. I had actually met Jennifer before. "Do you remember?" she asked. "I still have your old business card," I recalled truthfully. We would bump into each other at a South of Market club where my best friend and I used to swing-dance. What I remembered about Jen was that she spoke very directly about her emerging career as a television producer. She was ambitious and sharp. And this was memorable, because we were in a club where (1) businessy career conversations seemed out of place, not to mention hard to hear, and (2) Jen was working as a Lucky Strike cigarette girl, in costume, giving away cigarettes. Her second job. It was amusing to listen to the beautiful, fiercely independent Chinese Lucky Strike girl going on about her successful day job for a cable channel in the big city. It always stuck in my memory, a multiculti Mary Tyler Moore moment. Yes, she was in Lucky Strike costume, but she moved around the nightclub with the body language of a manager in an office, armed with business cards, never missing a chance to network. When she mentioned her family, she always painfully waved the topic away. "They just don't get me," she would say, or "They don't approve of what I'm doing with my life," or "They're living their life, I'm living mine." Unable to please them, she'd stopped trying. She treasured her career passion like a good secret, it being the only part of her life that was hers alone to ruin or shape into something grand. Then, one day some six years later, after I made a presentation at a business conference (about the heroic courage required to find a meaningful career, no less), Jennifer came up to me, wondering if I remembered her. She said she'd just moved back from New York. There was something different about her, a peacefulness to equal her confidence. It intrigued me. We agreed to meet for a glass of wine after work the next week. With Jen, there's so much to attract the eye. She puts the double H in hip-hop. Blond streaks highlight her black hair. A mountain lion tooth dangles from her leather choker. Metallic powder-blue eyeshadow, umber lip liner, and rose-tinted sunglasses add color to her visage. Pin-striped pants, a snug T-shirt, and black boots with two-inch heels proudly show off her curves. But while I noticed these details, my eye fixed on the one accessory that didn't fit. On her left wrist was a delicate bracelet of beaded hooks, with a single gold heart dangling from the chain. It was solid gold, but somPo Bronson is the author of 'Why Do I Love These People?: Honest and Amazing Stories of Real Families (Random House Large Print)', published 2005 under ISBN 9780739326008 and ISBN 0739326007.